Young Writers Society

Maybe I'll adapt this to become the prologue of a longer story (if I find the time/energy to start yet another long story ) but for now it's just a short story.

Feel free to rip it to shreds ^^

XxxDo

“I can’t believe we’re finally going. I remember spending hours on the phone with you while we tried to get our parents to agree to this, and now the moment is actually here. It’s so unreal.” Aiden smiled, shifting the position of the shoulder strap of her bag in an attempt to make the weight more bearable. Bringing a laptop with her on holiday was absolutely awesome if you planned to watch movies or have access to the internet, but getting it there was a different story entirely. She wasn’t planning on loosing her computer to some luggage mess-up by checking it in, and was therefore carrying the 3.6 kilogram chunk of electronics across three airports and two plane flights. And then back.

“God, I know. This morning, when I woke up, I nearly had a heart attack of excitement.” Dylan’s tan face was split into a joyous grin, which seemed permanently plastered on her fair face, her blue eyes shining with sincere enthusiasm. After hours on top of hours of pleading, their parents had allowed the two best friends to go on their first solo-holiday. The teens arguments had been reasonable, as they were sixteen, amply responsible, and both trusted by their parents not to get involved in any uncanny activities. Plus, it’d only be for a week, and they were staying at the holiday house in Spain that Aiden’s parents owned. In other words; nothing could go wrong.

They’d cleared the first passport check, waving goodbye to their parents from behind the glass barrier that divided those who left and those who stayed. Now, they were on their own, and all too ready to make the most of every minute of freedom.

“You wanna get a coffee? We have ages before the gate is announced, even.” Aiden tucked her short, blonde hair behind her ear to keep the loose strands from tickling her skin, and eyed the overhead boards. Searching for a restaurant or café, she stood still, scanning their surroundings.

“There, dude.” Dylan gestured at a brightly lit sign that hung over a counter, the white letters announcing: The Coffee House. She started towards it, grabbing Aiden by the wrist as she took off. Nearly dragging her friend along, she grinned. “Come on, A, I’m seriously in need of a caffeine fix.”

“Same here.” Aiden said, tightly gripping the shoulder strap of her bag with her free hand to keep it from slipping off as they quickened their pace. “I can’t understand how my parents could possibly find me old enough to go on holiday alone if they don’t even allow me to have a cup of coffee in the morning. Honestly, it lacks all logic.”

“You can’t seriously expect parents to be logical, dude, they’re not meant to make any sense.”

“True.” Aiden rested her arms on the counter as Dylan released her wrist, pleased with their luck. There wasn’t a line to be spoken of, with only one customer waiting for his drink. The African-American woman behind the counter granted them a kind smile, and they returned it before glancing at the chalkboard behind her.

“They’ve got Lattes.” Aiden announced, content, as though this wasn’t a given fact.

“You ever seen a coffee shop that didn’t have Lattes? It’s damn near mandatory, if you ask me.” Dylan nudged her gently, amused.

Aiden sniggered. Her friend was truly in the mood to be witty this morning, with one-liners rolling off her tongue like bolts of lightning. She could always count on her friend to amuse her, though school time and holidays, no matter how they communicated. Dylan usually managed to make her emails sound more like stand-up comedy than the stand-up comedy fellows managed to do to their onstage speeches.

“Two latte’s, please.” Dylan ordered with a charming smile, and the woman behind the counter beamed back before starting the coffee machine. Aiden narrowed her eyes, watching three ominous-looking men approach. She couldn’t quite decipher why they raised the hairs on her arms like soldiers for salute; though there was something terrorizing about the resolute pace with which they advanced towards the cafe.

The middle one, the tallest and more fierce-looking one of the three, pocketed his hand, his eyes meeting hers. The cold cruelty that radiated from him caused her to involuntarily stiffen up as he held her gaze. Then he retracted his hand, a gun firmly fitted into his palm. Tearing his gaze loose from her, aiming at the Cafe, he fired, again and again in close succession.

People screamed. People ran. People fled.

And people hit the ground.

The hostess took a hit to the chest, the latte she’d just made falling from her hand, and limply vanished out of their line of sight behind the high counter. A suit-clad businessman rose to his feet, quickly reaching for his metal case, when bullets knocked him off balance. As he clutched his hands to his chest he toppled over, taking down a table as he fell. Coffee spilled across the floor, the mug crashing and breaking, a gruesome mix of brown and red liquid forming a puddle around him as he gasped.

The shooter sprinted at him, gunning down a woman as he passed by her. She had already been cowering on the floor. She screamed, then breathed one last wheezing breath before she fell still, blood running down the side of her face from the bullet hole in her temple. Her empty eyes were fixed on Dylan and Aiden, seemingly begging them to run. Though during the seconds it took for the scene to unfold, neither Aiden nor Dylan had moved a muscle.

“Oh, shit.” Dylan whispered, her eyes wide. Staring in awe at the three men she backed away, circling Aiden’s wrist with her hand almost exactly as she had only minutes ago. This time, though, it wasn’t out of enthusiasm that she tugged at her friend’s arm.

“Oh my God…” Aiden was shaking, her gaze fixed on the shooter. He kneeled beside the businessman, pressing the nozzle of his gun against the man’s forehead. Apparently having the man be half-dead didn’t suffice. His lips trembled as he tried to speak, but not a word came out. Is he the target of their shootout? What the hell is going on?

“Behind the counter. Come on.” Dylan said through clenched teeth, trying to control the quivering of her voice. As slowly as their adrenaline-filled muscles allowed, the two friends walked backwards, rounding the counter. No more than two feet from their goal, an angry yell stopped them in their tracks. The two hollered words had been clear enough. Don't move!

Stepping in front of her friend, Dylan backs into her as the shooter draws nearer, his eyes irrevocably fixed on her face. He takes another step, his arm lifting. The nozzle aimed at Dylan’s chest he cracks a sly smile. With a wink, he squeezes off a round. It all happened too fast for either one of them to grasp the severity of their situation.

The impact of the bullet throws her into Aiden, bringing both teenagers to the ground with the gunshot echoing around them. Motionless, winded, and with her eyes tightly closed, Aiden lets herself go limp. A stinging pain in her shoulder tells her that the bullet is lodged in her flesh. She keeps herself from screaming, the torn skin burning fiercely, as it dawns on her that there had only been one shot. Despite this, Dylan’s hand, which is still around her wrist, lacks all strength.

Aiden had always thought it a television myth that bullets could successfully rip right through a person’s torso and lodge in the person behind them. She was hit. Dylan's hand was still. There had only been one shot… It couldn't possibly have...

Or could it?

Her shoulder throbs, and the hand around her wrist remains eerily limp. The shooter’s footsteps reverberate in her ears as he walks away, and another shot rips through the deadly tension. The businessman? Did they kill him?

Muffled conversation, followed by the sound of metal sliding against metal, force her to fake unconsciousness a little longer, but soon she hears the gunman pace away; his henchmen falling into step with him. In the distance, someone screams. Strained breathing comes from behind the counter. The hostess? Did she survive?

Turning her head, slowly, she feel tears slide down her cheeks, fearing the worst. She rests her gaze on Dylan’s pale face, holding her breath. Her vision blurred by the liquid that overflows the brim of her eyes, she finds that Dylan’s is staring back at her, and for a split second she swears she saw movement. A split second is all it takes for reality to sink in.

Dylan's eyes are open, yes.

But they're open, stock-still, and lifeless.

“I can’t believe we’re finally going. I remember spending hours on the phone with you while we tried to get our parents to agree to this, and now the moment is actually here. It’s so unreal.”

Unrealistic dialog. It sounds like she is writing a letter to a long-gone friend, rather than speaking to someone next to her. Read it to yourself out loud, and you'll see what I mean. Maybe >.>

She wasn’t planning on loosing her computer to some luggage mess-up by checking it in, and was therefore carrying the 3.6 kilogram chunk of electronics across three airports and two plane flights.

3.6kg isn't heavy, especially for a shoulder bag.

Stepping in front of her friend, Dylan backs into her as the shooter draws nearer...

Starting here and throughout the rest of the story, you've changed from past tense to future tense. I would go with the former, over the latter.

The nozzle aimed at Dylan’s chest he cracks a sly smile. With a wink, he squeezes off a round.

Muzzle, not nozzle. Nozzle sounds like he's wielding a squirt gun.

The impact of the bullet throws her into Aiden, bringing both teenagers to the ground with the gunshot echoing around them.

Bit of technical stuff for you; if the bullet went clean through Dylan, she wouldn't be thown backward by the force of it, because the force was not absorbed by her tissue--it couldn't stop the bullet. She might take a step backward, but unless it was a very, very high caliber bullet, she wouldn't be thrown.

Couple general notes:

It would be nigh impossible for the gunmen to get their weapons past the checkpoints; security is airtight since the 9/11 attacks in the US, especially in Western Europe and North America. Slight plothole.

Also, your shooters seem to be crack shots--every one of them shot someone in the chest! You might consider making them hit people in other parts of the body, to make them seem not to superhumanly accurate.

Finally, both Aiden and Dylan are typcially guys' names--the fact that they call each other "dude" constantly had me rather confused as to their gender, despite your having used "she" as a pronoun for them both.

--D

Thanks for the review, Dono ^^

I shall edit my story.

And... I like the guy-ish names! *sheepish smile*

Ahum. Anyway =] I'll look into my story and make some changes (though I'm keeping the names )

XxxDo

Hiii~ :D guess who's got me again!

“I can’t believe we’re finally going. I remember spending hours on the phone with you while we tried to get our parents to agree to this, and now the moment is actually here. It’s so unreal.”

Eh, it's only two words but it makes the whole thing sound quite unnatural. I'd say cut them, or rearrange it a little to hours on the phone trying to get our parents to agree.

shifting the position of the shoulder strap of her bag in an attempt to make the weight more bearable.

This sounds... awkward XD cut that part out, it doesn't sound as weird, and it's more condensed.

Bringing a laptop with her on holiday was absolutely awesome if you planned to watch movies or have access to the internet, but getting it there was a different story entirely.

This part... doesn't make sense. First out cut the awesome as it doesn't really fit the narrative tone, you could have something like absolutely essential if you planned on watching movies.... But otherwise, I don't see the need for justification? Movies and 'net seems like a pretty poor reason to bring a laptop across two flights to me ;) If you're going that far away on holiday, you're probably not going to want to waste your times watching movies XD If nothing less trivial comes to mind, it might not be worth mentioning it at all.

She wasn’t planning on loosing her computer to some luggage mess-up by checking it in,

Lose = losing. Lol I do this all the time too XD

“God, I know. This morning, when I woke up, I nearly had a heart attack of excitement.”

When I woke up this morning

“You wanna get a coffee? We have ages before the gate is announced, even.”

Eh, I'd either drop the even, or have before the gate is even announced.

the white letters announcing: The Coffee House.

I think the convention would be for that to be italicised. You don't have to go with it, but in my opinion it looks neater, and doesn't stare out as much.

Aiden said, tightly gripping the shoulder strap of her bag with her free hand to keep it from slipping off as they quickened their pace.

She's hardly going to grip it with her foot ;D

“They’ve got Lattes."

Drop the cap in latte.

“Two latte’s, please."

No need for an apostrophe.

The hostess took a hit to the chest, the latte she’d just made falling from her hand, and limply vanished out of their line of sight behind the high counter.

Limply doesn't seem to be the right word; the cup it was in wouldn't have gone soggy or anything.

Dylan's eyes are open, yes.

But they're open, stock-still, and lifeless.

But means that the following is going to be converse to what been said previously (kinda?) so having open again is contradictory and doesn't fit.

Okay!

There are some info dumps near the beginning, now you could maybe get away with them because they're not huge or anything, but there are some parts, like that the house they're going to belongs to Aiden's parents, that you could put into dialogue so it flows in.

Another thing that's quite sticky in this is the dialogue. People don't talk in complex well-formed sentences, they're full of grammatical errors and are usually pretty simply. I'm not saying you should throw mistakes in there, but I think even going for a less complex sentence structure would help improve it. If you're tempted to have a few commas in someone's speech, stop, and thing see if you're just fragmenting things unnessacerily.

Sometimes you elaborate on things more than they needed to be; I highlighted a couple of the example I picked up on. Sometimes, less is more; once the reader gets going with all the imagery they don't need to be fed every little detail about it, it just slows the story up and takes it longer to get to the exciting parts.

Towards the end your tenses switch around a bit, but that can be sorted easily.

Also I was confused a tad, because I'd always thought that Dylan and Aiden were guys names XD Myth's gender confusions have been rubbing off on me. On that note, pleasepleaseplease don't make Dylan say dude any more, it really doesn't help the confusion.

Any questions, pm, etc, you know the drill XD

This was interesting. I liked the beginning set up. The end seemed a little weird, considering how it sort of just cuts off after all that set up we read through at the beginning. But it was nice.

You switch tenses though, about halfway through - about when the shooting starts. You wrote the rest of the story in past tense, but then you start writing in present tense, with a little past sprinkled in. Not so good. Pick one tense and write in it the entire way through. Both would work for this story, but you can't use both interchangeably like that.

Aiden seems to catch on to the shooters really quickly, while I think the shooters would have been a little more discreet. A typical 16 year-old girl on her first solo vacation would probably be ecstatic and joking with her friend, not really aware of other stuff that is going on. But she not only sees and narrows her eyes to peer more closely at the men, she also has a bad feeling about them immediately.

Let's not make it so obvious who the baddies are immediately. Give the reader a chance to be maybe comfortable with these shooters so the shock when they start shooting is even worse. As it is right now, the minute Aiden notices them, the reader is just waiting for the bomb to drop. Sort of takes away the suspense or shock factor.

Anyway, this seemed really solid otherwise. What kind of story would this be if you were to make it longer? Having read this beginning, I'd love to know where it would go as a longer story.

~GryphonFledgling

Thanks for the reviews, guys. I'll get editing soon =]

Tin fish: I always make that mistake =P it's just one of those things I can't seem to get right. And thanks for the advice on the dialogue, you're right, it does seem a bit fabricated. I'll work on making it more natural.

Gryphon: The tense switch was intentional 'cause I started in past tense, and then figured maybe the shooting scene would draw the readers in more if it were present. I'll change it, though, for it doesn't seem to work quite as effectively as I'd hoped. I'll also work on the shock factor =]

I was planning to continue this story a few years after the planning, when (cliché, maybe, but I feel like doing it =P) she's an adult - and a cop - and stumbles across a suspect in another murder case who could very well be linked to her past experience. Something along those lines.

Thanks, guys!

XxxDo