z

Young Writers Society



Dark Matters

by Ashley123


Prologue: Dark Matters

Lyra was lying on the hospital bed, writhing with pain as her blood singed in her veins. Her body had never felt this way before, so much agony and pain. As if she was slowly rotting from the inside out, like a piece of forbidden fruit. Beads of sweat corrugated on her forehead, creating speckles of clear liquid along her hairline and temples. She could feel each drop on her face, each pang of pain that scorched throughout her body like a wild fire. She didn’t know if she could bear this any longer. She was tired of fighting it, tired of living as though she were as fragile as a china doll. Pain that had lasted, and refused to go away.

The doctor came into the room, wearing mint green colored gloves and a cream-colored mask. They had put Lyra in isolation the minute she had come in, they assumed it was a third world disease like Ebola, or Dengue Fever. Something that could be treated, or spread to humans. But this was nothing like that, and Lyra knew this, she knew that this was her end. She looked up at the white ceiling, and breathed in heavily, creating a wheezing sound that casted its way across the room.

“Don’t worry ma’am, we’ll figure out what is happening to you.” The doctor said, compassion creeping into his eyes. She grabbed his arm, digging her nails into his skin. He winced.

“F-f-find me my daughter. I need to see her n-now!!” She coughed, black blood splashing across her lips, leaving the doctor in utter shock. “NOW!!!” Lyra screamed, as ebony liquid dripped from her mouth, streaking her chin.

“Miss, I think that we should make sure that you’re okay first before we bring in a minor-,”

“I WANT TO SEE MY DAGHTER NOW!!!!” She screamed. While she wiped away more blood from her lips, concealing the bodily fluid from more wandering eyes. The doctor nodded, and opened the air tight door. A loud whoosh of air followed as his footsteps receded. The presence of him remained in the room, as Lyra took a ragged deep breath followed by small spurts of blood.

He walked out into the waiting room, keeping his white mask in his left hand. He ran his thick fingers through his blonde hair, and made his way over to the nurse at the waiting room desk. The nurse looked up from her computer and locked eyes with the doctor. The blue glow of the screen cascaded across her face, highlighting her facial features.

“What can I do for you Dr. Gordman?”

“Um, did anyone come in with a Lyra Emerson?” The nurse looked back down at her screen and began typing, her eyes wandering with each key stroke.

“Uh, let’s see here, Emerson.” She paused as she looked through the records. “Oh, here we go, her daughter, Casiel Emerson, came in with her. She is age, seven.”

“Ok, thanks Irene.”

“No problem.”

He made his way over to the chairs where one little girl sat. She had dark brown hair, that cascaded down her shoulders like a waterfall. Her pale skin made her ice blue eyes stand out even more than if she were tanner. She looked his way, and when she did, he saw the youth in her eyes, the fright, and the compassion for this young girl’s mother. He didn’t know her, but he knew well enough from looking at her that she was going to be a beautiful girl, the kind that made people stare and heads turn.

He walked over to the young girl, and knelt in front of her in his navy-blue scrubs. She locked eyes with him, and a flicker of hope ignited inside of her. Like a light that was finally lit after being snuffed out for so long.

“Is your name Casiel?” he asked, keeping his voice steady enough lest the child be frightened.

She nodded, and stood up, her purple shirt’s long sleeves covering up her fragile fingers.

“I’m one of your mommy’s doctors, and she’s been asking for you.” He held out his hand. “Come with me.”

She took his hand and let him lead her to her mother’s room. She felt a deep sickening feeling in the pit of her stomach, somehow, she knew that the image of her mother that she was about to see was going to be bad. She saw Lyra in the ambulance over there, wincing and writhing in pain, as blood came out of her flared nostrils. She didn’t know if she could see her mother like that again, or worse than she was before. She pushed that thought back down into the deep abyss inside her mind, letting the image drown itself into the depths of her subconscious. If her mother were beside her right now and knew what Casiel was thinking she would tell what she always told her. That, “Pain is not suffering, pain is what makes us stronger than our enemies, what leads us to victory.” Her mother would tell her that every time she got hurt when she was little, or scared of some imaginary fear. Her mother would teach her the lesson of pain, over, and over again. But this time, her mother was the one in pain. Would she remember the lesson of pain, or would she forget her own teachings? These were the things that Casiel worried about, the painful thoughts that left her head buzzing and her thoughts whirring.

They made their way over to the door of the isolation unit. Dr. Gordman handed Casiel a white mask, and mint colored gloves. She took them and began to pull the latex up and over her small hands. The gloves were baggy and barely stuck to her hand, despite them being the smallest size the hospital had. She then took the surgical mask and put the sides over her ears, as she felt the paper touch her nose and her lips. She began shaking and soon steadied herself, telling herself repeatedly the lesson of pain. She dared not show any weakness to her mother, especially in her time of need. This was when Casiel needed to bulk up, and act like the seven-year-old that her mother expected.

They entered the room, a large whoosh of air followed the girl’s body. She shuddered from the cold air, and looked around the room. She saw her mother then. Black blood spattered across her face, appearing in a tar like manner. Her mother saw her then, compassion and love soon appearing in her eyes. Casiel soon ran over to her mother’s bedside, letting go of the doctor’s hand in a great attempt to try and comfort her mom.

“C-C-Casiel, you’re here.” Lyra said, wheezing in between each letter that she spoke. Casiel nodded and gripped her mother’s left hand, squeezing harder every time Lyra had a coughing spasm. Lyra looked up at the girl, and tucked a lock of her brilliant brown hair back from her face. Smiling as she did so, in her motherly manner.

“C-Casiel, I need to tell you something. I d-d-don’t think I’m coming home with you, - “

“What do you mean? Mom stop acting like your dying, - “

“I am dying Casiel. I know that it’s hard for you to understand, but I’m not going to make it.” She took in a deep breath, exhaling through her tar like mouth. “You need to know that I love you and I want everything in the world for you. But there’s some things that you just don’t understand. AGGHHHH!!!” she screamed out in pain, doctors soon came rushing over to her, attempting to help her. But Lyra just waved them away, as if they were pesky little house flies.

“You are my everything Casiel. There was so much that I meant to teach you.” Casiel tightened her hand on her mother’s, the latex sticking to both girls’ hands. “But, they made it impossible to do so.” She whispered, choking on every word, as if they were razor blades in her mouth. Cutting every inch of her body until she forced them out.

“Who, who made it impossible mom, - “

“That’s not what matters now.” Lyra gasped, leaving Casiel hanging on her every move. “We don’t have much time.” She took something off her bedside and brought it over to Casiel. A book bound in light brown leather, the pages were cracked with age, the pen marks like chicken scratch. She handed it to Casiel, wrapping her hands around the book and her daughter’s palms.

“This is my journal. It will tell you everything that you need to know. And you’ll understand when the time comes. W-w-when the time comes, you will need to rise, and learn from my mistakes. Do you understand?” Lyra’s eyes kept to Casiel’s face, waiting on an answer.

“Yes. Yes mom I understand.” Tears began to fall from the young girl’s eyes.

“Good.” Lyra nodded. More black blood came from her mouth and nose, the monitor beeped erratically. The doctors pushed Casiel out of the way, one of them pulling her out of the room.

“N-No get off me!!!!! MOM!!” Casiel screamed as one of them carried her out of the room, the journal in hand. When she was finally fully out of the room she opened the book, letting a small crystal fall from one of the pages. She picked it up, and held it in her fist, feeling the shard pierce her skin. She ignored the pain, she let it blossom in her hand like a flower bud just fertilized. But when she looked up, she heard a flatline. And she saw her mother’s cold dead eyes stare at her from beyond the grave. The green color that Casiel so admired was now gone from them, now they were just black and pupil less, like a crow’s. The doctor shut her mother’s eyes. Casiel watched as Lyra’s pale eyelids closed, the veins twining her skin, like a mysterious spider web. The cold shadow of death had now covered Lyra.

“Time of death, 8:41.” Whispered one of the doctors, as Casiel doubled over, and held on tightly to her mother’s things. Refusing to let go. She let out a loud gasp, and began sobbing. Her face covered in salty tears, stinging her eyes.

She felt her hand drop, and heard the clang of the crystal as it hit the floor. Her hand had a small wound that the crystal created when she gripped it so tight; lacerating her own flesh.

Casiel watched as everything around her turned to shadows, and flashes. As everyone disappeared and it was only her. She looked down at her hand where the wound had flourished. She saw her blood bubbling up from the cut, and was reminded of her mother.

For the first time in a long time, Casiel let the black blood flow.


Note: You are not logged in, but you can still leave a comment or review. Before it shows up, a moderator will need to approve your comment (this is only a safeguard against spambots). Leave your email if you would like to be notified when your message is approved.







Is this a review?


  

Comments



User avatar
641 Reviews


Points: 46598
Reviews: 641

Donate
Sat Oct 07, 2017 9:39 pm
Panikos wrote a review...



Hi, Ashley123! I'm Pan and I'll be reviewing your work today.

First Impressions

This was certainly dramatic. It held my attention all the way through, and you certainly create a lot of interesting questions. What illness does the mother have? What does the journal contain? You've got some nice description and imagery, too, though you're a bit weaker on dialogue - you often overdo it, and the actual formatting of it often makes it look amateurish. There's also quite a few hitches in grammar, but I'll get to those in a moment.

I don't think this reads like a prologue. It feels like a first chapter to me, and it would probably be better if you classed it as that. Some people skip prologues, so they shouldn't really contain any information that you couldn't understand the story without. This seemed pretty key to the plot.

Realism is probably my biggest concern for this piece, which I'll talk about both as I go on and at the end of the review. There are some things you're going to need to change about this chapter just to keep it realistic. Nevertheless, they are things you can work around, so don't worry too much.

Nitpicks

They had put Lyra in isolation the minute she had come in, they assumed it was a third world disease like Ebola, or Dengue Fever.


1) This is a comma splice. Because 'They had put Lyra in isolation the minute she had come in' and 'They assumed it was a third world disease like Ebola or Dengue Fever' are both independent clauses which can make sense on their own, it's incorrect to separate them with a comma. Swap the first comma with a full stop or a semi-colon.

(This error pops up a few times in the piece, so I'd recommend checking out this YWS topic for a quick explanation about comma splices. It will help with figuring out how to both identify and fix them).

2) You don't need the comma after 'Ebola'.

Don’t worry ma’am, we’ll figure out what is happening to you.” The doctor said


Two issues here.

1) When somebody addresses someone in dialogue, be it by their name or by some other vocative, you usually need a comma before it. Like this:

"Don't do that, Jack!"

"Pass me the gravy, dear."

"That's the most exquisite hat, madam."


So, in these circumstances, there should be a comma before 'ma'am'. Watch out for those kind of mistakes in editing.

2) Dialogue punctuation. This is something a lot of people trip up on, but it's better to sort it sooner rather than later. When you have speech that has a dialogue tag on the end (a dialogue tag is something like 'he said', 'the man said', 'Kathy said') then you must never close said dialogue with a full stop. You must also make sure that, with the exception of when you're using a proper noun, the dialogue tag doesn't begin with a capital letter. I'll use some examples to illustrate.

"Stop doing that." He said.

This is incorrect because, as you can see, the dialogue closes with a full stop. 'He' is also capitalised. The correct way to write it would be:

"Stop doing that," he said.

It's also worth noting that, even when dialogue closes with an exclamation mark or question mark, you still don't capitalise the first letter of the dialogue tag. So these would be wrong:

"Give me the stupid ball!" He snapped.

"Have you seen Emily?" The girl asked.

The correct way to write them is as follows:

"Give me the stupid ball!" he snapped.

"Have you seen Emily?" the girl asked.

There are NO circumstances where the first letter of a dialogue tag should be capitalised (unless, obviously, you're using a person's name). So if you see 'He said' or 'She said' or 'They said', you know you've gone wrong.

The only circumstances where it's appropriate to close speech with a full stop is when there's no dialogue tag. So this would be acceptable:

"I can see the prancing cats from here."

Dialogue punctuation can be tiring to get to grips with because a lot of it is so arbitrary, but it will become automatic if you practise it enough. By all means, check out this short article for a fuller guide to punctuation in dialogue, as I haven't covered everything here.

She grabbed his arm, digging her nails into his skin.


This is where the realism really suffers. If the doctors suspect that Lyra has Ebola, there aboslutely no way that they would let someone go near her with exposed skin. Ebola can be transmitted via sweat and other bodily fluids and doctors take ridiculous, ridiculous precautions when treating people who have it. I remember seeing something about it during the epidemic a few years ago - doctors would literally have to be completely covered, and when they left the patient's room they had to have each item of protective equipment carefully removed and then sterilised. There's no way this doctor would be so reckless as to let her touch him. I'll talk a little more about this at the end of the review.

F-f-find me my daughter. I need to see her n-now!!


Be careful that you don't overuse stammering. It's one of those things that can look incredibly parodied and fake if it's not used very sparingly, and you use it a lot in this piece.

Also, never use more than one exclamation mark or question mark at a time. Doubling up on them makes your writing look quite amateurish.

“I WANT TO SEE MY DAGHTER NOW!!!!”


Aside from the obvious typo, you need to cut back on the exclamation marks here as well; it makes it seem like you're trying way too hard to make the dialogue dramatic. Also, don't represent emphasis with capital letters - that's another thing that makes writing look amateurish. Using italics instead. They're the standard in literature.

She is age, seven.”


Don't need that comma.

He made his way over to the chairs where one little girl sat.


Why on earth isn't somebody with her? The girl is seven. Her mum's dying. There's no way one of the doctors or nurses wouldn't be supervising her.

She saw Lyra in the ambulance over there


Where is 'there'? Be specific, not vague.

Her mother would teach her the lesson of pain, over, and over again.


Frank impressions of this line? It makes it sound like her mother hit her to teach her to cope with pain. That's the image that 'lesson of pain' conjures up in my mind, so I'd definitely consider changing it.

Mom stop acting like your dying, - “


Ah, a grammar sticker's favourite. It should be 'you're' here, not 'your'. Also, you don't need the comma at the end. Closing it solely with a dash is quite enough.

But there’s some things that you just don’t understand. AGGHHHH!!!


Advice: do not try and write screams in dialogue. It always looks corny. Just describe the character's scream in your prose. I guarantee it will be more effective.

But when she looked up, she heard a flatline. And she saw her mother’s cold dead eyes stare at her from beyond the grave.


How would she be able to hear and see what was happening in the room when they've carried her out of it? They wouldn't just plonk her outside the doors on her own. They'd take her somewhere else and try to calm her down.

Overall Thoughts

1) In overview, this is a really solid start to your story, but you let your desire for drama get in the way of realism and subtlety. Your dialogue is over-the-top, and the last section where Lyra dies feels like it's trying too hard to tug on my heartstrings. You focus on the emotional turmoil in so much detail that it actually loses all of its impact. Less is more. Don't try and make the audience feel things; just tell the story as it appears and let them decide how to react to it. Forcing a response makes the writing feel like a pantomime.

2) On the subject of realism, there's a lot of things that need tending to in this chapter. Number one: there is absolutely no way that the doctors would let Casiel come into the room if they suspected Lyra of having Ebola. It is far, far too dangerous, not to mention impractical, as they'd have to deck her out in protective gear (which they wouldn't have in her size anyway) and then sterilise it all when she left. There's no way they'd let her take a journal from her mother, given the chances of it being contaminated. Why would they even let her have the journal in the room anyway? It's not like she's in a fit state to sit up and write.

There's also the trauma aspect. Exposing a seven-year-old to their violently haemorrhaging mother just would not fly, not on the mother's orders. That's the kind of thing that could screw a kid up permanently.

So, how do you deal with this problem? The easiest solution, I think, would be to remove the Ebola suspicions. Make Lyra's deterioration less violent and remove the fear of contagion, because only with those changes would the doctors a) let her keep her journal in her possession and b) let Casiel in to see her. That's one possibility. You could also change it so that Casiel is not allowed in to see her mother before she dies. Perhaps Lyra uses her last breath convincing one of the doctors to pass a message onto her daughter, telling her the whereabouts of the journal. I'm just spitballing here. It's your story, so it's completely up to you how you resolve the problem.

3) I like your eye for detail. Your description is specific and engaged with the scene, which is something I love to see. A lot of writers fall prey to bland, sweeping descriptions of settings which never get into the specifics that bring writing to life. You are not one of those writers. That said, I think you could definitely exploit the sense of smell more than you do. The smell of hospitals is so distinctive and evocative that it seems a waste for you to not pay any attention to it.

4) When you edit this, I want you to do it from the perspective of trying to get rid of words. You have a habit of expressing things in overly-wordy, sometimes convoluted ways. Take this bit:

Black blood spattered across her face, appearing in a tar like manner.


This bit struck me as strange, needlessly lengthy expression. It could be cut down to be so much more concise. If you had something like:

Black, tarry blood was spattered across her face.


It's just an example, but you can see how rephrasing it has made it so much briefer, and by extension so much clearer. That's what I want you to do with all of your writing. Every line, every phrase - ask yourself if there's a way you can tighten it up and express it more briefly. That will sharpen up your prose and make it so much more effective. Editing is what you take out, not what you add in.

I'll call the review there. Overall, this isn't a bad start to your story. It certainly didn't bore me, which is the first hurdle to overcome, and I think it has the potential to go somewhere very interesting. Just tone it down. Work on the realism. Cut out the melodrama. With a bit more subtlety, this could be an excellent piece.

I hope this was helpful! PM me if you've any questions.

Keep writing! :D
~Pan




User avatar
154 Reviews


Points: 10017
Reviews: 154

Donate
Sat Oct 07, 2017 9:25 pm
Zoom wrote a review...



Hello. Zoom here for a review.

Just want to say that, even though I will be pointing out a lot of things I found wrong, I think you have a good foundation and clear ability to make something great out of this.

Lyra was lying on the hospital bed, writhing with pain as her blood singed in her veins.


It’s good that you have raised a question the readers will want answered – “why is Lyra in pain and in hospital”

I don’t feel there is anything particularly enticing about this sentence, but appreciate you have jumped into the story. I suggest to rework this to make it punchier. My advice is to stay away from “name + was” openers. It isn’t very smooth to read so not a promising way to start off your story. Also I’m not sure about the word “singed” in this context, or what is meant by this.

Her body had never felt this way before, so much agony and pain. As if she was slowly rotting from the inside out, like a piece of forbidden fruit.


Be careful with similes – they should only be used if:

1) The subject has a universal definition already but you want to compare it something that will create a unique perspective

2) The subject is inherently confusing and you compare it to something with a universal definition to clear up confusion & ground the reader.

In this case, a person rotting away from the inside out is going to be difficult for most to imagine, but you are comparing it to something subjective (forbidden fruit), which therefore doesn’t enhance the readers understanding.

Beads of sweat corrugated on her forehead


I think you meant a different word instead of “corrugated” – check the definition.

creating speckles of clear liquid along her hairline and temples. She could feel each drop on her face, each pang of pain that scorched throughout her body like a wild fire. She didn’t know if she could bear this any longer. She was tired of fighting it, tired of living as though she were as fragile as a china doll. Pain that had lasted, and refused to go away.


These similes are better but you have used three of them in the opening paragraph. You need to use them sparingly otherwise they will really start to stick out and become obnoxious.

The doctor came into the room, wearing mint green colored gloves and a cream-colored mask.


The doctor comes in and you describe two items of clothing that most readers would have guessed anyway. You gave two adjectives for gloves. Give us something about the doctor. Does he seem competent or not? Is he young and eager, old and experienced? The first thing we learn about him shouldn’t be mint green gloves.

The doctor said, compassion creeping into his eyes.


“Creeping” isn’t a good word choice if you are trying to portray compassion.

“NOW!!!”


“I WANT TO SEE MY DAGHTER NOW!!!!”


Work on your dialogue tags and showing good characterisation through body actions rather than using caps lock and barrages of punctuation.

She screamed. While she wiped away more blood from her lips, concealing the bodily fluid from more wandering eyes.


I don’t know what is meant by “more wandering eyes”? He’s a doctor, if he hasn’t seen blood yet then I’ll turn myside inside out. Also it’s completely bizarre that she’s yelling for her daughter but also concerned about something as trivial as this.

The presence of him remained in the room,


No idea what is meant by this.

He made his way over to the chairs where one little girl sat. She had dark brown hair, that cascaded down her shoulders like a waterfall.


This simile serves no purpose. Everyone knows what cascade means.

“Is your name Casiel?” he asked, keeping his voice steady enough lest the child be frightened.


Lest? Think about the language you use in your story. This doesn’t fit the tone at all.

“I’m one of your mommy’s doctors, and she’s been asking for you.” He held out his hand. “Come with me.”


Come with me child, I need to show you something that will traumatise you for life. Unless the doctor is sure Lyra is about to die and there's nothing that could be done to stop it (which he isn’t) – this would not take place.

“Pain is not suffering, pain is what makes us stronger than our enemies, what leads us to victory.” Her mother would tell her that every time she got hurt when she was little, or scared of some imaginary fear.


Fear =/= pain so the mother would not be using this quote in that context.

Dr. Gordman handed Casiel a white mask, and mint colored gloves.


Those mint coloured gloves again . . .

This was when Casiel needed to bulk up,


Bulk up = gain muscle, not sure if this is the time for her to hit the gym.

Black blood spattered across her face


Full marks for using “spattered” rather than “splattered”

“What do you mean? Mom stop acting like your dying, - “


Unrealistic speech for 7 year old girl in this conext.

But Lyra just waved them away, as if they were pesky little house flies.


Yeah unless this is set in a different world to ours, the doctors would still be saving her life.

“But, they made it impossible to do so.”

“Who, who made it impossible mom, - “

“That’s not what matters now.”


I isolated the dialogue here so you can see that this is unrealistic to mention something vague on her deathbed but then dismiss it as unimportant.

Overall comments

1) You overuse adjectives. You don’t need to. If it’s an irrelevant item that we can imagine ourselves then you don’t need to tell us the specific colour etc. Some nouns even came with two adjectives, and it’s very clunky and obnoxious to read. Similar to this, you have a tendency to focus on details that we didn’t need to know about, and therefore missed an opportunity to include something more interesting.

2) The logic doesn’t make sense. The doctor did not know what was wrong with the Lyra and there was no indication that he knew she was about to die. Therefore, it was unbelievable that he would go and fetch a 7-year-old girl at that time instead of doing his actual job.

3) I’m not left with any lasting impression of what this book will be about, what kind of tone it will have or what the setting is. Prologues need to nail a key element to your story in a way the first chapter can’t, otherwise you don’t need it. This prologue gave us the death of a parent and a very small hint of there being some kind of outside influence that prevented Lyra from teaching Casiel something. That doesn’t give us much insight into what is to come. Prologues are notorious for these issues, being vague and dropping random foreshadowing that won’t make sense until later, rather than creating a foundation for a solid first chapter.

As I said, I see clear potential with your writing and ability to story tell. My issues were more with the approach taken with this prologue.

Let me know if you would like to discuss more, and you can tag me in future instalments.

-Zoom



Random avatar




All truly wise thoughts have been thought already thousands of times; but to make them truly ours, we must think them over again honestly, till they take root in our personal experience.
— Johann Wolfgang von Goethe