Hi all! It's been a while since I've updated. I just got really uninspired with the story and kind of felt like giving it up. Then I did a five part short story called'The Four People Nina Helped (and the one she couldn't)and then all of the ideas came back! woop! Anyway, this is pretty rough so reviews are appreciated! :] Thanks!
~*~
I ran, empty-handed, breathing hard although knowing I didn't have to.
I didn't think, my legs stretching and my speed increasing until the streets went by in a blur of white fences and children's sandboxes. The only constant was the sidewalk, cracked and chipped, stained with gum and bird droppings and always grey. I didn't know where I was going, simply following a trail of sidewalk cracks like it was Dorothy's yellow-brick road.
I stopped.
The church was white, pure against the dark, evening sky. The bells were still ringing, something musical now, probably a hymn and as I walked up the steps, I recognized the notes of 'Amazing Grace'. The elegant mahogany doors were closed but not locked and inside, the bell's music was even louder. I stepped inside, my Converse making squeaks on the marble floor, finally reaching Emerald City.
It was warm inside and I walked up the spiraling staircase slowly, hearing voices -they're singing- louder with each step. The members of Christian Youth Group were standing in a circle, the lights off, but at least a hundred flickering candles lighting up the room.
They were singing, Angelica, in the middle, in perfect tune with the bell's chime. Her eyes were closed, like at the night of her recital but her arms were not up, no longer flying.
I stood by the stairs and watched the CYG finish the song and sit down, the air smelling of old books and patience.
"Tonight, we remember our dear friend, Chloe, who has joined Jesus and our Lord in heaven. She grew up in our church, an eager member of youth group for many years. She has passed on but all of us here know she is in a happier place and eventually, we all will join her." Andrew said, the group leader.
He was pretty young for a pastor -in his late twenties, early thirties- but he looked a thousand years older then, his eyes dark from the candles, lines of faith creased into his skin, as if the secrets from confession, as if his religion could be folded, kept, beneath early wrinkles and laugh lines.
"I ask that we all pray for Chloe and her family, in hopes that the good Lord will provide for them."
The group, all people I knew, all people I had prayed with and laughed with and now they were praying for me, praying that I would go to heaven and prance around in fields of flowers or whatever else people did in heaven. They finished and left soon after, with somber faces and faithful eyes.
I stayed upstairs after everyone was gone, staring at the shelves and shelves of Bibles.
My teeth ground against each other as I got up and took one off the shelf then sat back against the wall. The book itself was beautiful, with a hard leather cover and the crisp smell of new paper. I opened it to a random page and I stopped breathing, because I couldn't see the words correctly, like they had been blurred. I turned to the next page and blinked over and over, my mind unable to understand why I couldn't read properly, why I couldn't see the words.
When I was 12, I went to the ortheopedic to get examined for new reading glasses. The doctor put drops in my eyes so she could see the pupil better and it wasn't until later, after opening my science textbook to do homework, that I realized I couldn't read anything. My eyes were so dilated that simply looking at text gave me a headache. It was weird and kind of irritating but after a few hours, I was back to science work.
This, this was different though. No doctor had put drops in my eyes, no new glasses were coming. It was like I was a vampire, unable to enter someone's home without an invitation, one that would never come. My teeth were still slowly grinding against each other and my hands were shaking as I dropped the book and slowly backed away from the shelves.
I turned, shaking and ran down the stairs to the *place where the pews and stuff are*. I slowed down and tread softly down the center aisle, taking the same steps hundreds of others did before me against the same red carpeted floor. Each pew was empty and I glanced at the seats where my mother cried, where my father stared, where my sister grieved, baby-faced but beautiful, where Angelina prayed and Tyler and Aiden and Nina and Daniel all mourned my death.
I was running my fingers across the altar when the door creaked open and a girl walked in, head down, humble. Angelina, with golden hair and cerulean eyes, slowly made her way down the same aisle I did and stopped at the fourth pew. She sat in the middle of the pew and when she looked up at the altar, she stared right through me to the statue of her savior, her lord, Jesus Christ.
I knew she would come, because she had always done this, ever since we were fifteen, spending her Friday nights in fervent prayer. She had tried to convince me to accompany her, attempting to persuade me with words that she loved, salvation, redemption, obedience; words that I hated, that were too wholesome, too boring for me, words that I spit back at her with bared teeth and angry eyes.
I remember childhood and a promise that both of us swore not to break. It was early summer, when mosquitoes and bees and plants all thrived, when everything was alive, nothing touched by Winter's death. My mom had dropped me off at Angelina's house for the day because she had to take Lucy into the city for a doctor's appointment.
We were five and had spent the day in her room playing with dolls, planning Barbie and Ken's wedding. We had raced outside to Aunt Ellie's garden in the backyard, ignoring her half-hearted yell not to pick the flowers and slowly stared down at the tiny buttercups and lillies.
"Maybe we shouldn't take them, Chloe. My mom said not to." Angelina said, playing with the frayed edge of her pink My Little Pont t-shirt.
"Yeah, well, we have to. Barbie and Ken are getting married today and we need flowers." I had responded, trying to figure out how to get to the pretty blue and white flower in the back without stepping on the lillies.
Angelina looked at me apprehensively while I plucked a few buttercups, a few tulips. She reached for one of the long stemmed roses Aunt Ellie had forever gotten praise for and grimaced when a thorn stabbed her pinky.
"Ow, Chloe, it cut me."
I turned from where I was grabbing bunches of light purple rosemary and watched as a small bead of blood welled up on her finger.
"That's okay. Look," I picked up the rose from where it was dropped in the mint and broke off a thorn.
"We'll do a blood promise. I saw it on TV. You put the blood together and it makes you sisters."
Angelina nodded as the thorn bit into my pinky and an identical drop of blood came onto my finger, both of us staring in fascination at the perfect circle, one tremor, one touch and it'd be ruined.
"Promise we'll be sisters forever," Angelina said, holding up her finger.
"Pinky promise," I smiled and we clutched fingers, putting the oath to blood.
We got in trouble later for taking the flowers but no one ever found out about our childhood promise, one we had yet to break. We had always been best friends but envy has a way of manipulating any friendship.
Her home was the church and that's where she was the night of my funeral, in the back pew, eyes closed, palms up, praying to God.
I walked up the aisle and sat in the same row, slowly edging close to her as she began to voice her prayers.
"Give Lucy the strength to grow in a broken home. Give Aunt Teresa and Uncle Micheal the strength to save their marriage. Give my mother the strength to give birth without complications. Give Chloe eternal peace in heaven," Her voice was a whisper, hoarse from crying.
"Sh-She was my best friend. You took her." A heavy breath and small shiver.
"Please, give me the strength to believe in You again."
Her eyes were still closed and I swear, she was the single most beautiful thing I had ever seen in my life. She opened her eyes and suddenly turned, staring directly at me. We were silent for a moment then she stood abruptly as if she had just remembered an urgent appointment and left, the door slamming loudly.
I took the spot where I was earlier, in the corner, with the perfect view of all the pews and of the base where my pearly white casket was placed. I stared at the empty space, at the empty room that holds the memories of weddings and funerals, of new life and of death. It was empty, I was empty, everything was over because I was deceased. I had ceased living. I was dead, my body slowly decomposing, the bruises and scars from the car accident slowly disintegrating into nothing, my mind and my memories and my life becoming nothing.
Everything that was Chloe Deshmount was dead.
With Amazing Grace's final note, I sank to the ground and began to cry.
~*~
Spoiler!:
So yeah, that's it basically. This chapter was definitely the hardest to write because I had no idea where I was going with the story. I do now, lol. The ending is crazy dramatic, I know, I know but bear with me. <3 Reviews and likes are appreciated!
She has passed on but all of us here know she is in a happier place and eventually, we all will join her." Andrew said, the group leader.
It rather should be 'Andrew, the group leader, said.
I stood by the stairs and watched the CYG finish the song and s#FF0000 ">at down, the air smelling of old books and patience.
Take care of your tenses.
This chapter felt a bit weird to me in terms of your sentences. Your tenses were off and then the sentence structure in itself was not perfect. I didn't feel that this was your writing, since I don't really have such problems while reading your stories. Since you say that you don't want grammatical errors pointed out, I didn't really pick them. But if you need help, tell me. I'm not an expert but I can guide you a bit-though I know it just needs an editing and you're far more smarter than me.
Each pew was empty and I glanced at the seats where my #FF4000 ">had mother cried, where my father #FF0000 ">had stared, where my sister #FF0000 ">had grieved, baby-faced but beautiful, where Angelina prayed and Tyler and Aiden and Nina and Daniel all mourned my death.
You had a problem in this sentence. They weren't doing all this even then, they had done it a long time back.
I won't really say much since my complaints are basically the ones I had in the last chapter, too. I think that even though I'm enjoying reading all the flashbacks and the relationship building that you're doing here, I believe it's the time that you moved on with the plot. By now, I'm pretty intrigued to read what it is that would happen now that Chloe is dead, and most importantly what had happened to her. I don't want you to rush this, but I'd expect you to augment your speed.
This time there were some sentence problems and at some points it just didn't seem like your writing. I don't know if it's because you had problem writing this chapter. I just feel you shouldn't ignore such problems.
Besides this, I do like the scene in Church. It was nice and I could feel myself there. I like the fact that without using many words you were able to convey your thoughts. For me, it's not the same and which does clutter my piece. You've got this awesome talent and you do use it to your best. I just wish you luck.
I'm glad you have reached this far with your project and haven't given up.
xDD maybe say to the main body of the church or something? Or just back downstairs, then take another line to describe?
II. BEST FRIENDS?
Okay, the main issue I have here is with the promise that Chloe says she never broke. But in all the other chapters, I have viewed Angelina as simply her cousin, not her best friend, I thought Nina was fulfilling that role. So I think that's an issue. If they made the promise, is Chloe now regretting not spending more time with Angelina while she had the chance? Or do you need to edit past chapters to explain this friendship? Right now this whole scene is a little out of the blue.
III. THE AFTERLIFE
So. You're dead.
You're in a church, listening to people talk about how you must be in Heaven.
You're clearly not in heaven.
I wonder if Chloe would have any other thoughts on this- does she feel betrayed by the church? Alone? Sickened? Or does she really consider this heaven? Did she believe in God before? Does she still? What about all her friends in the CYG? Does she want to tell them something about life-after-death.
I can't remember if you dealt with this in the first scene in the church- I don't think you did. I think this would be a perfect place to tell us about Chloe's beliefs and how dying has affected them, if at all. Right now, I'm thinking that that would be what I would be thinking about. Of course she's your character and your story, and it's up to you.
IV. OVERALL
This is nice, but I'm painfully aware that there's really not much plot development going on. I get it, Chloe's dead. People are in mourning. You are looking back at all her relationships, and it's very well written. But what's the point in telling a story if there's no story? As I say, I really do enjoy it and I get genuinely excited about new chapters, but I'd like to see you pushing forward a bit more
Hope I helped, drop me a note if you need anything!
First impressions: Nice! It was dramatic, yes, but I liked that. Drama is good! And it's a bit of character torture, which is a bonus. But there were a few issues that I did find.
No major grammar errors (not that I'd have pointed it out anyway, because you prefer general reviews ) but I did find this:
Give Aunt Teresa and Uncle Micheal the strength to save their marriage. Give my mother the strength to give birth without complications. Give Chloe eternal peace in heaven," Her voice was a whisper, hoarse from crying.
Michael. Usually anyway
So. I wanted to ask if I've not been reading properly? Or if it's been a while since I last read a chapter, because I don't recall ever reading about an Angelina in the story, especially that she's her best friend. I'd have thought, seeing that Angelina was someone major to Chloe, that she'd have been mentioned earlier.
I will commend you for the fact that she couldn't read. That closes the possibility of written messages between the living and the dead and that'd spoil it. In my eyes anyway.
I think the main thing is that I can't see any plot at the moment. To be blunt, it just seems like stories and memories. It's all good though, but I don't feel like I can see any conflict. What is the main problem of the story? The conflict? The... well. Major problem they have to solve? Not literally like that, but you get the idea. They're all mourning her death, recalling memories. Although it was dramatic, she'd already mentioned she was dead (apart from the beginning). What compels me to go on? I hope you understand my point, but don't be discouraged. It's great. It's just... that. xD
So. Well done, and keep writing! I hope I was clear in my review, but in case not, feel free to PM me!
) but I did find this:
Points: 58538
Reviews: 553
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