Young Writers Society

ok so I know this is an overused topic, but I had this sudden inspiration moment and had to write it. So I think the action dwindles about halfway through, but I can't figure out how to fix that.

so please, rip and tear as viciously as you like. thanks!

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I finger the picture of Kylyn, trying to remember her voice. She is sandwiched between a little baby and a middle-aged man in a fancy business suit. I don't recognize them. I don't recognize anyone on that wall, even though I watched most of them die.

I can still remember every second of that day. I always will. Each day, it plays through my mind like a horrible slow-motion film. All I remember is her face. The face, the fear in her eyes that moment I left her.

***

It was five years ago today. September 11th, 2001. Ky and I had gone to visit her dad at work. He had the greatest office in the North Tower of the World Trade center. It was so high above the ground, we would often stand at the windows and pretend we were flying over the whole city.

We were doing just that when we saw the plane. At first, we thought it was just flying over, but as it came closer, we realized it was far to low.

"Dad!" Ky screamed at the top of her lungs, "Dad, that plane's gonna hit us!"

We could see the belly of the jet now, coming closer and closer to the building. Her dad picked both of us up and ran for into the hall.

By now, everyone else was scrambling out of their own offices and making a beeline for the stairs. Kylyn's dad shoved us into the crowd.

"Daddy!" she cried, trying to swim back to him through the mass.

"Ky-Cat, just go!" I grabbed her hand and pulled her through the crowd. Then, it hit.

The whole building shook from the impact. Windows shattered, roof tiles smashed onto the floor. Ky and I gripped each other, crying and screaming ourselves hoarse. We ran even faster.

We had just a few floors to go when everything went wrong. Burning papers flew everywhere, and the debris mad a thick cloud of dust. I groped around for Ky. Where did she go? I heard her voice.

"Jace!" she screamed, "Where are you?" I followed her voice until I reached her.

"I'm right here, Ky!"

She grabbed at my hand, and as soon as she had a grip, I yanked her forward. Just as I began running again, she lost her balance and let go. I grabbed at her, but missed. Then, a huge pile of rubble crumbling down stopped me.

"Ky!" I cried desperately.

She was caught under a pile of fallen bricks. I tried to pull the heavy debris off, but it wouldn't budge.

"Jace, just go! The whole building's gonna collapse any second!" I paused for a split second, shocked at her words. Of course the building was going to fall; that's why I was trying to free her!

"I can't let you die because of me. I'll be able to fend for myself. You have to go, Jace." Dirty tears streaked down Kylyn's face, her voice raspy, hushed. "Jacie, please."

I leaned down and hugged her, then turned back towards the stairs.

The rest was a blur. Something crashed overhead. I think I called for help, but there was no response. Somehow, I managed to make it all the way down and find refuge in a small coffee shop. Just as I made it outside, the whole tower came tumbling down.

***

ky and her father were both spared the grief of losing each other. Neither body was found despite all the searches we did. A few weeks later, we moved out to the suburbs of Massachusetts. I never set foot in New York until today.

***

Now I'm standing here, five years later, at the very site of the tragedy. I don't notice the solemn passerby as I stare at Ky's sixth-grade picture. I wonder what she would look like now, what we would be doing if we still lived in our Manhattan apartments. I let my eyes wander from the photo, down to the words.

"Have you seen this girl? Kylyn Donaldson, eleven years old. 5' 1", shoulder-length brown hair. Please call Eileen Donaldson and/or Jacie Grace."

I take a felt-tip pen from my purse, uncap it, and write right there on the paper, Jace and Ky, Best Friends forever.

And suddenly, I just know everything will be okay.

I can finally hear Ky's voice.

Well, I didn't find anything awkward or slow about the plot or action, if that is what you mentioned before to look for. Jace did seem to turn rather quickly, considering the apparent desire to help free Kylyn, although there obviously wasn't much time left. There's also room for expansion during the time that Jace runs out of the building by herself. Leaving her best friend behind and trying to get out alone, while there are probably other people around that she watched die as she said, definitely has potential for adding action and, maybe even depth to the story.

I thought it flowed smoothly, and i liked it. It wasn't confusing, or anything. I felt that the end was sort of abrupt... i liked how you connected it back to the beginning, but that last line just seems out of place and doesn't seem to flow as well as the others. Maybe it would help if Jace was fingering Kylyn's picture one more time.. and then she remembers.

You could draw out the tension more when Jace leaves Kylyn. It's an action scene, so spin it out. That what someone once said to me: draw it out. Make the reader tingle with suspense, torture them. Make the momet last.

And the ending was like fothi said. Too abrupt. She can hear Ky's voice? When I read that, I was like, "Yeah? So? Did I miss something here?"

So, polish the ending and spin out the middle. Just a few minor errors.

PP wrote: At first, we thought it was just flying over, but as it came closer, we realized it was far to low.

To = too

PP wrote:We had just a few floors to go when everything went wrong.

Splendid! Everything went wrong; do elucidate. This is what I mean about drawing the tension out.

PP wrote:ky and her father were both spared the grief of losing each other.

Capital letter on Ky.


All this aside; good.

Hey, nice story. I think it was a bit rushed, all though it didn't feel like it. As Twit said, I think the action scene would benefit the story even more if it was drawn out. Details are everything.

Nice job, and it truly was sad. There's just something about the ending that's not clicking for me, though. I know it's one of those that's supposed to be satisfying, but...it's just not. Perhaps try adding a bit more emotional depth and thoughts to it...

Good luck!

revised ending:

Now I'm standing here, five years later, at the very site of the tragedy. I don't notice the solemn passerby as I stare at Ky's sixth-grade picture. I wonder what she would look like now, what we would be doing if we still lived in our Manhattan apartments. I let my eyes wander from the photo, down to the words.

Have you seen this girl? Kylyn Donaldson, eleven years old. 5' 1", shoulder-length brown hair. Please call Eileen Donaldson and/or Jacie Grace.

I take a felt-tip pen from my purse, uncap it, and write right there on the paper, Jace and Ky, Best Friends Forever.

With one final glance, I tear my eyes from the picture and slowly drift back to my family.

As we drive back to our hotel, I just know everything will be okay.

I can finally hear Ky's voice.

do you think it's any better? I tried to flesh it out a bit, if you know what I mean.