z

Young Writers Society


12+ Violence Mature Content

Dreamwalker

by Cspr


Seven children sat in a meadow. It wasn’t much, the meadow. It was grass and dirt backed by a rusty, collapsing chain link fence that marked the football field apart. Across the way was a barren wasteland, a burnt house, but in this meadow there were signs of life: flowers, bees in the clover, and three trees clawing their way to the sky.
The seven children sat in the sun, eyes shielded from the light by the trio of oaks. They formed a circle, unwitting except for one. Amongst them were personalities that should have clashed. There was Donna, the freckled blonde cheerleader; Jacob, the resident moody outcast; Philip, the spectacle-wearing debate king; Tanya, the russet-haired female guitarist; Lorenzo, the wannabe hero football player; and Missy, the wisp of a girl who hid behind her pale hair.
The seventh person wasn’t really a child, but he pretended to be well enough. He had seen all the other children’s futures. Tanya would die of a heroin overdose. All the others would die in prolonged captivity, surrounded by needles, carcinogenic cleaning products, and crisp white.
So he sat with them behind their high school in this grassy place, brain whirring like the innards of a wristwatch as he tried to figure out how he should tell them. If he didn’t speak, he would watch them, one after another, drop like flies. Missy would last the longest. Her death would be drawn out with throes, wrung in the wash one too many times.
Everyone always wanted to pin down the butterflies. Everyone wanted to put the belongings of the dead behind glass. Everyone always wanted to see their futures and see inside the heads of those around them.
Whoever claimed that humanity wasn’t cursed was blessed by luck outrageously.
None of the six knew him, not really. They’d dreamt of him, yes, and they had more insight about him than most would. They dreamt of him before he’d met them. That was how it worked. Unlike every other character, he wasn’t someone they’d gone to school with grades ago or rode the city bus with that one time. He wasn’t the person they’d raced past, running up the escalator, and he wasn’t the person they’d spilled coffee on. They remembered him as that, of course. Their brains couldn’t understand anything different, really. Special brains, but too human. Not human enough to be left alone, but hazardously so nonetheless.
As was he too human. He was cowed even before he opened his mouth. He was the new kid. The new one accepted to the fold because what he’d done, something he’d wished to never have to do.
He didn’t want to be like them. He wished he was what he appeared to be, like the children but not like them, the brain-rakers.
“If anyone asks, tell them we’re fine,” he said.
Donna looked over at him, a smirk about her cherry red mouth. Her eyes held laughter, but no sound came up her throat.
Tanya’s hoarse voice spoke the things few others would say aloud. “Oh, really? What if I’m on my period then? I shouldn’t complain, eh?”
Lorenzo made a face at Tanya. “Seriously, that’s nasty. That’s why you don’t get dates.”
Tanya punched him in the arm, but the fondness was clear. She liked him.
David sighed. Lorenzo had died asking if Tanya was okay. David hadn’t had the heart to tell Lorenzo, no, she’d died two years earlier on tour. He’d told him that Tanya was fine, that she’d gotten married and had a little girl.
Why’d he done that?
Sometimes he couldn’t answer his own mind. Most of the time he couldn’t answer his own mind. Today he didn’t think he could save them, even if he knew all the statistics.
“There are people, see. They’ll ask you how you are. Don’t tell ‘em about the sleepless nights, okay? Just say you’re fine. Part your lips, look ‘em dead in the eye. Say, ‘I’m fine.’”
“I think David’s on drugs,” Philip commented, even as his fingers ripped a leaf of grass apart. His dark eyes flickered behind thick glass and the hair had risen on his forearms.
Missy looked David in the eye and he felt more caught than he had in years.
“Okay,” she whispered.
The world then seemed to fall to pieces in a way, sort of like black tar slowly began to rain down on the movie of it and obscure everything in sight and then flood into his eyes, his ears, his lungs.
David woke up in his cot and his eyes met the grainy darkness of the small room.
If he couldn’t save them, he’d give them as many sunny days as he could manage.
He rolled back over and tried to find sleep again.
He hoped in the morning he could yell Missy and all the orderlies’ expressions would just project confusion and pity.
He deserved something for his suffering, didn’t he?

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18 Reviews

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Reviews: 18

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Tue Mar 05, 2013 8:50 pm
EatSleepRead1120 wrote a review...



Hey, EatSleepRead here.

Nice story. Really interesting. :)

None of the grammar or punctuation or anything is wrong, so good job on that.

Can you expand on this story? It seems like it could go longer... :)

I love the imagery you put in everywhere. The characters look good and interesting, too.

Sooo... great job!

~Renee




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33 Reviews

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Thu Feb 14, 2013 9:49 pm
rwgbookwriter wrote a review...



I'm reviewing this

I like how you start off(Seven children sat in a meadow. It wasn%u2019t much, the meadow. It was grass and dirt backed by a rusty, collapsing chain link fence that marked the football field apart. Across the way was a barren wasteland, a burnt house, but in this meadow there were signs of life: flowers, bees in the clover).

this is very interesting! I like this . This is a nice story here.Very nice description throughout this story, you didn't do anything wrong here. Your grammar is right.
pretty much everything here is ok
this is a nice piece.




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179 Reviews

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Wed Feb 13, 2013 11:19 am
guineapiggirl wrote a review...



Ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooh this is very interesting!
Oooh, I like this lots. This is nice story.
"Seven children sat in a meadow. It wasn’t much, the meadow. It was grass and dirt backed by a rusty, collapsing chain link fence that marked the football field apart. Across the way was a barren wasteland, a burnt house, but in this meadow there were signs of life: flowers, bees in the clover, and three trees clawing their way to the sky."
Lovely opening description. Very nice description throughout, for that matter :D
"brain whirring like the innards of a wristwatch as he tried to figure out how he should tell them. If he didn’t speak, he would watch them, one after another, drop like flies."
That bit's lovely.
"because what he’d done, something he’d wished to never have to do."
After reading this a few times, it's still not quite making sense. I'd expand whatever it is you're saying a little more. Or it might just be you've missed a word or something.
I also don't entirely get what's happening with the things he says, about saying you're ok. I like the bit at the end with him being in a cot. It's like- he's going back in time, sort of? Or back in his life?
This is a really good piece. If you post any more of this then please tell me!




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662 Reviews

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Wed Feb 13, 2013 6:45 am
dogs wrote a review...



"that marked the football field apart"

Apart from what? What's next to the football field?

I like the imagery you used about the bee's and clovers and flowers clawing their way up to the sky. I think your opening is good, setting the imagery for the scene and bringing the reader into your piece slowly.

"They formed a circle, unwittingly except for one"

Is the "they" you're using here referring to the children, or the three oaks? Also it's a little awkwardly worded so it doesn't get your point across clearly. This is also an important point if you're attempting to describe an image for us to see.

Ok when you get to the seventh child you need to describe how each child is going to die. I really like the idea of the 7th character, certainly a lot of potential in that.

"was blessed by luck outrageously"

Ok, awkward wording here. Just say "blessed by luck." Omit all useless and excessive words whenever you can.

"Lorenzo had died asking if Tanya was okay. David hadn’t had the heart to tell Lorenzo."

I'm assuming that "david" is the seventh child, but you didn't introduce him by name to use so there is confusion there. Also this paragraph is oddly worded, so much so that it makes the meaning you're trying to get across here unclear. Try to re word it so that it rings a little more conversational tone.

"David woke up in his cot..."

You have quite a scene change from your previous train of thought to David waking up in his bed. Try to make at least a wall of **************** separating the paragraphs just to make the scene change clearer.

All and all I think you have a wonderful piece here with some excellent potential. You do have a slight problem with the clarity of your writing, so certainly work on make your point clearer. I certainly enjoyed reading this piece. Let me know if you ever need a review. Keep up the good work!

TuckEr EllsworTh :smt032




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Wed Feb 13, 2013 4:09 am
SkullCandi says...



I really hope you extend this a bit more. I have so many questions about this story. I really like the imagery you put in the beginning, very beautiful. The eeriness is awesome too! Especially when he talks about them dying. How old would you say they were? I imagine them to be very young, maybe middle school?





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