Crash Prologue

Good Morning/Afternoon/Evening/Night(whichever one it is in your part of the world),

Hi! I'm here to leave a quick review!!

First Impression: This is a pretty nice little prologue here. Sufficiently mysterious to hook me in as a reader at any rate, and there weren't too many parts that felt a bit off.

Anyway let's get right to it,

I looked out the window. I was sitting on the window seat in my bedroom. I hadn't slept much, maybe an hour at most, but that was the case with this day. The sun was just tipping over the vast hillside. I watched as the sun made the sky change colours - dark blue to red to pink to orange. All beautiful.

A bit of an odd start to a story this one. I feel like it didn't quite stick to a common theme there, and that's what makes it a little off. Cause like on one hand, we've got the beauty of the day being described, but there's also a distinct undercurrent of things in general being in a bad state

I hardly heard my alarm clock go off in the midst of my thoughts. When I did turn it off, the sun was well on it's way up into the sky. I slowly made my way to the shower. I took my night shirt off and only paused a minute to look at the mirror. At myself. My hair was dark red and hanging in wavy tresses down my shoulders. If I fixed my hair just right, you'd only be able to see a little bit of my markings. Scars. My markings - as Elliot calls them - run across my chest and stomach.I had gotten the scars exactly five years ago today. You couldn't see them unless you looked really close; the paleness of my skin hiding them well. I was one of the lucky ones. Me.

Hmm, yeah, that certainly seems to follow on with the idea of things being a bit on the bad side. Its a very interesting little image there to start off with here. We've got someone that's been quite badly scarred judging by that description and it seems they are one of few survivors of some sort of large attack of sorts judging from the words being used here.

I shook my head at myself. I can't believe it's been five years. Today I wouldn't go attend school, instead I'd be going to a memorial service for me. No, I'm not dead, but I should be according to doctors.Seventy-four others were though, my foster parents being amoung them.

Okay...yeah well that quickly confirms the theory, certainly a very interesting note to bring up at the start. It also very mysterious to see how they'd be going to their own memorial, you definitely do not see that all that often, even in a story.

Exactly five years ago, Flight 1582 crashed in a forest in Gladys, Illinois.Fifty-six people died instantly; 18 more died of complications due to the crash. There were only a handful of us left. 13. All of us wanted to stay, having nothing really left in the actual world, and the worlddidn'thave anything left for us. So now we all lived her in Gladys. It was a quiet town. Peaceful. The first year or so we definitely got looks - some of still do.

Okay...that's a very interesting thing to happen as the result of a plane crash. That being an incident to kill a fair number of people and leave handful alive is very realistic, but the whole them having nothing left and having to live in the town they crashed in is a bit of an odd move. Its definitely not the typical result of surviving a plane crash, so this certainly gets our attention as a reader.

The hot water ran over me like a waterfall. It felt so good. Refreshing. My skin turned pink from the burning liquid. It was an improvement, the colour, from the blues, and blacks and yellow splotches that once covered my body. I quickly washed my hair and body. Cleansing. I slipped out of the shower and put a towel around me.

In my closet, I have few dresses. They're for special occasions, but for this one I only had one thing appropriate for the event. I pulled the dress aside and reached for a black garment bag stuffed in the back of my closet. I hated pulling it out. It meant that another person is dead. Gone. It was a simple black dress with three-quarters length sleeves and a full skirt that came to just above my knees. The top was a simple scoop neck. I only used it for funerals.I had bought it last summer at a small shop in Historic Gladys.I had worn it to Bess's funeral four months ago. She died from liver failure due to her being an alcoholic. Due to her being in a plane crash.

Hmm, this little touch of backstory along with the dress is interesting. I think this does a lot more to sort of talk of the effects of this plane crash. It seems much more in line with how something like that go and how this sort of thing would cause a person to have emotions of this sort. Hmm, this is slowly building up quite nicely here.

I stood staring at the dress for a long time. I sighed. Another event to wear you to, Dress.

I had gotten dressed in no haste, taking my time. It was nearly nine-thirty by the time I traveled down stairs. I found Clara already dressed in a black skirt-suit. Black. I hate that colour. Her dark brown hair was pulled back into a ponytail. Her olive skin set off by the black, making her seem darker. She sat at the counter on a barstool she had found in a thrift shop. Our kitchen was small but adequate. We had the essentials plus an island. The walls were pale blue and the floors were light hardwood. I grabbed myself a cup of coffee, my black pumps cliking the whole way.

I sat next to Clara and looked out the windows with her. There were clouds covering the sky now. It always happened on this day. It was like God was crying with us.

Hmm...there's an odd sense of mystery here that surrounds this whole thing, especially in the last couple of lines and I wonder if there's more to this than just immediately jumps out at us here. Its certainly quite interesting. The one issue I do have here is the description after the part where she runs into Clara, it sounds like it dives a bit too deep into the details of the surroundings there, it kinda breaks the flow of the story somewhat.

Aaaaand that's it for this one.

Overall: Overall, this makes for a pretty solid piece here. I think I enjoyed this start. There's just a very eerie mystical sort of backdrop on top of just the normal trauma of the plane crash here and that just really makes me find out more here.

As always remember to take what you think was helpful and forget the rest.

Stay Safe
Harry

Hi Comments in bold.

I looked out the window. I was sitting on the window seat in my bedroom. I hadn't slept much, maybe an hour at most, but that was the case with this day. Why?The sun was just tipping over the vast hillside. I watched as the sun made the sky change colours - dark blue to red to pink to orange. All beautiful.

I hardly heard my alarm clock go off in the midst of my thoughts. When I did turn it off, the sun was well on it's way up into the sky. I slowly made my way to the shower. I took my night shirt off and only paused a minute to look at the mirror. At myself. My hair was dark red and hanging in wavy tresses down my shoulders. If I fixed my hair just right, you'd only be able to see a little bit of my markings. Scars. My markings - as Elliot calls them - run across my chest and stomach.I had gotten the scars exactly five years ago today. You couldn't see them unless you looked really close; the paleness of my skin hiding them well. Watch the tenses - should be "hid", not "hiding" I was one of the lucky ones. Me.

I shook my head at myself. I can't believe it's been five years. Today I wouldn't go attend school either I wouldn't go to school or I wouldn't attend school , instead I'd be going to a memorial service for me. No, I'm not dead, but I should be comma according to doctors. Seventy-four others were though, my foster parents being amoung Spelling - among them. Then it's not a memorial service for the narrator but all the other people, because she is alive

Exactly five years ago, Flight 1582 crashed in a forest in Gladys, Illinois. Fifty-six people died instantly; 18 more died of complications due to the crash. There were only a handful of us left. 13. I'd say personally it would be better if you spelt out the numbers especially if you're using fragmented sentences, aesthetically better All of us wanted to stay, having nothing really left in the actual Why actual world, what do you mean by that? world, and the world didn't have anything left for us. So now we all lived her Spelling. And tenses - does she still live in the town? If so, present in Gladys. It was a quiet town. Peaceful. The first year or so we definitely got looks - some of Missing a word? still do.

The hot water ran over me like a waterfall. It felt so good. Refreshing. My skin turned pink from the burning liquid. It was an improvement, the colour, from the blues, and blacks and yellow splotches that once covered my body. I quickly washed my hair and body. Cleansing. I slipped out of the shower and put a towel around me.

In my closet, I have few dresses. They're for special occasions, but for this one I only had one thing appropriate for the event Repetition, you already said "for this one" which implies the event, don't need this last part. I pulled the dress aside and reached for a black garment bag stuffed in the back of my closet. I hated pulling it out. It meant that another person is dead. Gone. It was a simple black dress with three-quarters length sleeves and a full skirt that came to just above my knees. The top was a simple scoop neck. I only used it for funerals.I had bought it last summer at a small shop in Historic Gladys. I had worn it to Bess's funeral four months ago. She died from liver failure due to her being an alcoholic. Due to her being in a plane crash. Very sudden transition there between remembering the dead and describing the dress, try making it more fluid. Also, perhaps more elaboration on how the alcoholism was related to the plane crash?

I stood staring at the dress for a long time. I sighed. Another event to wear you to, Dress.

I had gotten dressed Try a synonym or something, to many "dress"s in the last few sentences in no haste, taking my time. It was nearly nine-thirty by the time I traveled down stairs. I found Clara already dressed in a black skirt-suit. Black. I hate that colour. Her dark brown hair was pulled back into a ponytail. Her olive skin set off by the black, making her seem darker. She sat at the counter on a barstool she had found in a thrift shop. Our kitchen was small but adequate For what?. We had the essentials plus an island. An island? whoa.... definitely more explanation needed here The walls were pale blue and the floors were light hardwood. I grabbed myself a cup of coffee, my black pumps cliking Spelling the whole way.

I sat next to Clara and looked out the windows with her. There were clouds covering the sky now. It always happened on this day. It was like God was crying with us.

First off, you need to re-read what you've written before you post it to eliminate the spelling mistakes and tense mix-ups, and repetitions. Makes for more difficult reading.

I liked it a lot overall, though some more background needed I think, or insight into the narrator's thoughts, and less impersonal descriptions, especially as you're writing in first person. For instance the dress, or the kitchen - show it to me, don't tell me.

Also, maybe reconsider having so many fragmented sentences. It is effective, but only if it isn't overdone, and I think you're kind of on the borderline with that here. Aside from that, it's good, interesting - can't wait to read more!