This is something that I wrote one day when I was feeling bored. It is quite a mournful tale. Originally I only intended it to be about five or so paragraphs, but making things short is not one of my virtues. Tell me what you think of it.
The stairs above the four year old girls hide out cast eerie, prison-bar shadows on the ground around her. The girl hugged the blood soaked teddy bear to her chest. She squinted, as she pondered, unable to remember who had given it to her. Her mom had said it was one of the most important things they possessed. That was all she knew.
She wiped away at her tears with powdered cement covered hands. The city just beyond her hiding place was in chaos. The girl did not believe she would ever get out of her hideout. She rolled onto her side, and cried.
The girls sniffling was muffled by crackling automatic gunfire. The wind howled like a wolf giving the signal to go on the hunt. The girl was alone inside the artery of the carnage.
Why wouldn't mommy get up? And where did daddy go? I haven't seen him in two years. Why can't I remember what he looks like? The girl burrowed her 'ash caked' face into her red soaked teddy bear. The blood of her mother smearing her wind burned skin.
The girl's weeping became wailing as the realization that her mom would never be getting up hit her. The wound above her mother's heart had extinguished her life like a playful wind blowing out a candle.
She covered her ears as an explosion echoed down the street. Glass rained down around her sanctuary. It clinged on the concrete, singing like a lullaby.
The girl cried out in fear as the blood curdling shrieks propagated around her. More than once she bit her tongue. She was drinking in more than just her saliva.
She shivered from her very bones as soldiers ran by, their footfalls pounding into the core of the Earth.
Mucus flowed from the girls nostrils and mixed with the blood on her teddy bear. Vehicles creeped down the street, their forms clunking like oxidized robots. She trembled, but when they ground to a stop, she willed her body to become as still as stone.
The girl closed her eyes. She gnawed her tongue as footsteps pounded around her. "Find and slaughter every rebel!" a man barked.
In surprise the girl jumped, banging her head on the metal staircase above her. A gong, muffled by rhythmic marching steps resonated around her. The girl gasped, smothering her mouth with her teddy bear, as the marching ceased.
Then, the steps began coming in her direction.
"I heard something over here," a grim sounding man said.
"Yeah, I heard it, too," another added.
"Keep your weapons ready! It might be a rebel ready to shoot you down!" barked the same man that had made her jump.
She opened her eyes when the footsteps stopped again.
"Show yourself!" one of the men ordered.
The girl did not move, could not move. Her muscles seemed to become ice, and her breathing came in shallow pained inhalations of frigid air, and exhaust fumes.
"Captain, the rebel is not complying," the man said.
"Well then make it!" the scary man said, who the girl now knew as Captain.
"One last chance," the man said, "come out or I spray you with bullets!"
The girl stiffened. She had been raised to follow the instructions of 'grown ups' and crawled out of her hiding place.
"It's-a.. it's a girl!" the man said, lowering his automatic rifle.
"She's a daughter of rebels!" the Captain growled. "She's a walking plague just as much as her parents. Kill her."
The girl stared at the Captain, with her now undecipherable face. She was still hugging the teddy bear.
The Captain's features were intense. His mouth a sneer, and his eyes like those of a hawk, scanning the vicinity for prey.
The men in uniform were silent.
Wondering what was going on the girl started to walk away.
"Dispose of her," said the Captain.
"But-but, she's only a little girl!" one of the men sputtered.
The girl knew that the Captain wanted to kill her and broke into a run. She was running as fast as her little legs would carry her. Her tiny legs only carry her so far with each step.
"Get her back here!" the Captain yelled.
Thunderous foot pounds rumbled behind her. Adrenaline pumped through the girls veins. I can't let them catch me, I can't let them- she was snatched by hands as cold as death. She desperately tried to shake free of the human snare.
"Stop your squirming, girl," the man carrying her said.
The girl stopped, saying nothing.
"Throw her down there," the Captain said, indicating a place next to a big trucks tires.
The girl screamed as the man carrying her tossed her against the truck. She felt her elbow crunch as it collided with asphalt. The girl rubbed at, tears streaming down her ashen, and bloodied cheeks.
The Captain looked down at her and grinned.
The girl looked away, crawling underneath the truck, the teddy bear in her left hand. Every inch was pain beyond pain.
"You slippery snake!" the Captain roared, tugging her out form underneath.
"No!" the girl wailed, flailing her arms around. Her teddy bear fell from her grasp and plopped down next to her.
"What did you say to me!?" the Captain said, stomping on the ground next to her head.
She pursed her wind burned lips, reaching out for the teddy bear, bringing it to her chest.
"I said, what did you say!?"
The girl looked away and to the other men. She saw glints of sadness in their eyes. "Can you help me?" the girl said, her voice so feeble it was only a whisper.
The soldiers said nothing, only staring at her with anguished expressions.
"Clamp your mouth, you venom spewing snake!" the Captain said, stomping on her right hand, twisting his foot over it.
She cried out as the bones in her hand were crushed.
"Captain, stop!" one of his men said.
The girl watched as the Captain turned to look at the man that said it.
"Are you giving me an order?" the Captain said, in a calm voice.
The girl shivered. Somehow hearing him not shouting was even scarier.
In a lightning quick movement the man pointed his gun at the Captain, and shot him the face. The shot roared like thunder.
The girl closed her eyes as the Captain's body hit the side of the truck and slithered against it to the ground.
The other men's mouths were hanging agape.
The girl dragged herself away, as the man that had shot the Captain approached her. As he drew nearer, she couldn't help but feel that she knew him.
"Claretta?" the man said, couching down next to her. He then scooped up her teddy bear, as if it were the most delicate of treasures. He held it out to her, blood from its fur reddening his hand.
"Daddy?" she said, reaching out for the it. The teddy bear stained in the blood of her mother.
The man scooped up the girl, careful not cause her any pain, and embraced her. "I've missed you so much... my daughter," the man said, tears seeping down his cheeks. "I wouldn't have recognized you if it weren't for... the bear."
The father carried the girl down the war torn street, the gunfire, explosions, and the cries of the rebels a dirge of mournful music. The two would have a lot of tears to shed. For the teddy bear in their midst had a story of suffering and loss to tell.
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HA! Yeah, mercenaries allow a lot of flexibility. Those bloody fellows love their pay checks.

Thanks, I never thought about that.
For some reason I'm seeing an image of mercenaries scavenging for wallets on dead people. Even their own fallen fellow mercs.
You don't have to substitute the word "rebels" with anything. Just remove it completely.
ie:
"Show yourself!" instead of "Show yourself, Rebel!" (I dunno if you used this exact dialogue in your story, ha) But anyway, the second one is obviously more realistic.
And if the soldiers were militia? In my opinion, it doesn't add much to the realism. They still wouldn't kill their Captain unless he was, like, leading them on a suicide mission. Militias are spawned by nationalism, or when the people are so devoted to their country and their cause that they are willing to quit being farmers or whatever and fight as almost-soldiers.
You COULD assume that they were mercenaries, who have no loyalty to their leaders, really. Although they wouldn't act so unprofessional, either. I dunno xD
Thanks.

And sorry for the setting confusion.
The entire thing is set outside. The stair case is one of those outdoor ones. And, yeah, I guess I should address the fact that this thing is set in the future. Hm, what word could I substitute 'rebels' with? Perhaps the soldiers were just militia. Wait, that still makes them soldiers. I think.
Alright.
*Will fix the issues of the story at some point. Currently busy with an outrageous amount of school assignments*
First off, I want to say that the central idea of this is simply beautiful.
However, please do not write a sequel. I find it really strange that you are even begging for people to suggest for you to do a sequel on this. Some stories are better left the way they are. This is a prime example of that. Its like the Planet of the Apes (I'm hoping you've seen that). The first movie was amazing. Nuff said. Then, after the success of the first one, the people continued to make sequels, all of which were nothing compared to the first. Not only were the horrible, but they sort of took away the glory from the first movie. So do not write a sequel. This story ends beautifully as it is, no need for a sequel.
Now we must discuss some issues with the story.
First off, I feel that some parts of it just aren't realistic. For example, the way the soldiers call the people "rebels." I don't know what point in history that this took place, but I can almost guarantee that there was never a war-ish-thing where the soldiers called the people rebels like that. It just isn't realistic.
Also, the soldiers would not simply disobey their captain, and they especially wouldn't shoot him in the face. Even if it was their kid. The girl's father would have been sh*t outa luck. The captain probably wouldn't even be in the house at all. Only a couple soldiers would be searching a single house. So, to add realism, I would have the father searching the house with another soldier and then find the girl. He'd shoot his partner. Then hide the girl to come back for her later or something, I dunno.
the comma here is unnecessary.
Why would he be calm? I'd be utterly pissed if one of my soldiers back-talked me like that.
I'm sorry, but this comparison is somewhat pathetic. It's like saying: "the shot boomed like a gun." Haha, weird.
You don't need to mention that the bear has blood on it. You've already told the reader this enough times.
Not only does this phrase not make any sense, but to say a "dirge of mournful music" is silly because the definition of dirge basically is mournful music!
But hey, don't let me get you down. This really is a beautiful piece. I wish I could've come up with that idea myself.
Keep writing. PM for questions/comments.
Cheers,
Lena
Any sequel requests?
It's not likely.
But, I did establish at one point that the soldiers weren't particularly fond of the Captain's brutality. So, I can't imagine why they wouldn't be somewhat grateful that he was slain.
Of course, he would be hunted down afterward for killing the Captain. So, in a way you have a cliff hanger ending. And, who knows? Maybe I'll make a part 2. If people ask for a sequel, I will gladly write one.
Hey Gabriel!
Wow, that was a good story. Sad and depressing, but with a somewhat uplifting ending. Well done, you really made me feel for the soldiers and the little girl.
I've only got a few nitpicks.
Ash caked should be ash-caked, without the quotations. Smearing should be "smeared."
Would he really be able to get away with that?
Okay, that's it! Well done!
You could say something like, The murky water cast a dim reflection of the war scene above. She turned away from the Captain, her baby blue eyes the only brightness in the puddle. I dunno, I'm terrible at the show, not tell thing. I'm such an awful hypocrite, I say to show not tell, then all the reviews for my stories tell me I should do the same.
I really liked this story though. I think the father thing was a bit too convenient but that's alright, the coincidence worked for you.
OK, I'll be sure and do that. But, that would be telling and not showing, no? At least, that's what I've been told.

Someone told me something like, "She had blond hair and blue eyes" is obviously telling.
But, how in the world else would I establish how she looked like? Was there a mirror, or puddle of water conveniently next to her? Hm, a mirror. Perhaps the little girl in my story had one on her?
Aww. This was one of those bittersweet stories. I think you should have explained the girl's features a bit more and not as much the mucus, blood thing. You overused it a bit. Was she blonde, brunette? Blue eyes, hazel, green? I'd also like to now the time period too, just a vague little bit. Overall, I really liked this. It came from the Insane groups Make up a Story thing right? I remember I got irked at you for messing up The elephant murder stories
What a sad story. It was very good though aside from the few little mistakes. One thing when you were describing the cars as oxidized metal there was a "there" that should be a "their." It's so sad that the father figure only recognizes the little girl by her bear. Great job!
Looks like I'll need to Google that quotation mark thing.


Sometimes I'm too lazy to Google.
OK, edited according to Lillymoores PM suggestion.
This is a really sad little story...what makes it worse is knowing at there are a lot of true stories along these lines.
I liked the ending a lot though, it was relatively unexpected and made me feel like there was at least a little hope left. A few things might need some tweaking grammar-wise, but still really good.
Hey. This is my first review soo here goes.
I reall liked the concept of this story but in some places the wording seemed awkward. For example instead of "'ash caked' face" you could say "face caked with ash" or something like that, just to make it flow more easily. And I dont think you need to put quotations marks around that and lightning quick. But overall I really liked the story itself and I think if you edit it more it will be even better!
Hoped that help. :p
I tend to do that.

I'll see to addressing it after school.
Hi Aspiring. This story made me very sad. What inspired you to write it?
What detracts from an otherwise flawless story is the fact that you practically start every sentence with "the girl". The girl did this. The girl did that. The girl, the girl, the girl. Although I can't correct the specifics for you-you'll have to do that yourself-but try to find ways to vary your sentence structure. You can maybe combine a few, replace some with 'she'-anything you find that will be able to work.
Please PM me if you have any questions.
-Elinor
OK, thank you.

-
Hello there A.M. I don’t think we’ve ever been formally introduced. The names lily. *bows*
To the reviewing! Hazzah!
This is a lot of telling rather than showing, which is definitely not good in an opening sentence. But that aside, this still conjures up a great image. It’s just a matter of rewording that affects whether or not it’s telling or showing.
‘ash caked’ should be hyphenated.
This sentence isn’t really needed. The three sentences before lead the reader to the point that she bit herself to bleeding without telling us. You can just get rid of it.
I’m sure you meant ‘to.’
‘said…’ Said who?
Just needs to be lower cased.
This is another adjective that should be hyphenated. Don’t’ worry, it happens a lot. ^^
‘booming’ should be ‘boomed.’ It’s one of those silly little things that has to do with tenses I think. *ponders*
The way things are worded here are a bit confusing. I’m not completely sure what you’re trying to say.
Overall
This is kind of a sweet story but it needs some fine tuning. Obviously there were quite a few nitpicks but they can be easily fixed. One thing I really noticed was that the use of ‘she’ was very prevalent in the beginning but it then switched to ‘the little girl’ or ‘the girl.’ Mix them up. Too many of any one in a row gets to be boring.
The only other problem I saw was the fact that the setting was a bit unclear. I wasn’t sure where the little girl was at. Setting is key, especially when you have a story with a lot of movement in it.
Anyways, if you have any questions, feel free to PM me! I’m always creeping.
~lilymoore
That's really sad....
I loved it really that is so good...
Thank you, Apple. %uD83E%uDD13