The rain fell in torrents outside the window, turning the world beyond into a haze of grey. The only spot of colour was the climbing frame; a pastel-streak of yellow in the monochromatic playground. It was depressing, Hannah decided, contemplating it with half-closed eyes from her seat by the window. At the head of the classroom, Mr. Baker was speaking about essays, or so Hannah assumed, because that was the only word she’d caught. Everyone in the room sat in variations of her position; heads on their arms, or in their hands, or, in a few cases, right against the desks. The whole school was in a near comatose state, drilled to the brink of exhaustion in their previous three classes. All they could do now was watch the clock, counting every second of the seventy-five minutes left of their confinement. Or, as in Hannah’s case, stare out the window, at the thunderstorm working itself up into a frenzy. In her unbiased opinion (as she’d spent roughly a half hour at each of them), it was the more interesting of the two options.
She shifted in her seat, resting two fingers on her temple and rubbing them in a slow circle. There was a steady pounding just beneath her skull, and a low churning roiling in her stomach with the ferocity of the storm outside. All she wanted to do was go home, and curl up on her bed with a book, or maybe just collapse and fall asleep right off the bat. The latter option was looking increasingly more appealing as time wore on. Only fifteen more minutes…
A violent crack of thunder shattered Hannah’s stupor, and, judging by the reaction of the rest of the class, theirs as well. Mr. Baker’s sentence dropped off into silence, and he looked up from his hands to his students, as if only just becoming aware of their presence. A ripple of muttering spread out, as it always did; rhetorical and obvious exclamations of, ‘Did you hear that?’ and ‘Scared me half to death!’.
“Class, quiet down! It was just a bit of thunder! We’re almost done here, just pay attention for ten more minutes, please.” Mr. Baker snapped, trying to regain (well, not really, as he never had it to begin with) the class’ attention. Hannah sunk lower into her seat, gritting her teeth against the pounding in her head. Her stomach did a sort of backflip, and her fists clenched.
“Hannah, you okay? You don’t look too good.” A whisper from somewhere behind her, accompanied by the prod of a pencil eraser against her back, caused Hannah’s head to rise. She turned to see Melody watching her with an expression of concern furrowing her brow and settling between her storm-grey eyes. She smiled and jerked a nod in response, not trusting herself to speak unless she accidentally spew all over her friend’s desk. Melody didn’t look convinced, but she didn’t press the question.
For that, Hannah was overwhelmingly thankful. She rested her head on her arms again, staring at the initials (or so she assumed) carved into the wood of her desk. RT, they read, ragged and deeply cut, but worn smooth by countless fingertips tracing over their surface. She brought out her left pinkie, and did just as all the others had, touching the groove and moving along the contours. It was a strangely comforting motion.
Hannah curled her pinkie back inwards suddenly, fists clenching until her knuckles were a shade from white. Nausea was beginning to rise up from her stomach like a wave, and two thoughts began a war for supremacy in her mind. Firstly, ‘I’m going to throw up,’ painted in vibrant and jagged yellow, and secondly, ‘Not in class, please not in class’ scrawled alongside it in a jarring shade of red. They crashed together, clashing like the storm outside the classroom and adding to the pandemonium in her head. The world seemed to narrow, and Hannah felt her hands reaching out to grip the sides of her desk as her body rose to make a dash for the bathroom down the hall. Her knee connected with the desk corner, sending a jolt of pain down through her nerve endings and straight to the synapses in her brain. It registered -pain. Then she fell over.
The next thing she knew, she was on the floor –cold, hard linoleum pressing up against her throbbing back, and the storm had somehow descended into the classroom, violent sound swirling around her, noise and light and sensation flooding in like a tide breaking the gates. For a moment, she was disoriented. Where was she? The reek of sweat, mingling with the aroma of perfume, and the sharp smell of pencil shavings. Too-loud voices of all pitches and frequencies, and then a head, swimming into view, far too close for comfort. Mr. Baker, leaning over her, brown eyes wide with what could only be described as shock crinkling the corners, stubbly jaw slack, mouth open, and coffee-breath contaminating her air supply. English class. Last period. Thursday, November 19th.
The words came a moment later, brain having to strain to pick out the meaning from the overflow of sound coursing through her ears.
Loudest, came the voice of Mr. Baker, high-pitched and frightened, “Oh my God, Hannah! Hannah? Hannah? Hannah?” Underlying it, were the utterances of all her classmates; snippets of, ‘Oh my God’, and ‘Hannah’, repeating over and over like a broken record, and ‘What just happened?’ (and many variations thereof). But, most of all, there was one word, that struck her thoughts stone-dead and sent a terrified chill down to the base of her spine. It whispered through everything else like the hiss of a snake, said quietly but somehow more loudly than all else at once. “Changeling.”
No. No, no, no, no. The word magnified in her mind, spaces dissolving and leaving one long tangle, twisting and solidifying, rebelling against the voices that dared lay their stifling verdict down. Changeling. As if. She was fourteen now –that simply didn’t happen at this age. Her life was set, path planned and concrete. That word was not allowed to sidle its way in now, and tear down those foundations she had spent so long building. It had no place in her life, so those people saying it right now, letting it pass their lips like a curse could just shut their mouths. Hannah felt a vehement snarl escape her.
Her blood slowed to ice in her veins. Mr. Baker’s face retreated, bouncing away but still retaining its minute detail, and the sounds of desk legs scraping and feet sliding away were the instrumental to the violent song raging in her head. She had snarled, for that was the only word that could be attributed to that… sound that had escaped her, that feral grating of vocal cords in a primal expression of anger. Hannah Bowman did not snarl. In fact, the human race did not snarl. They attributed the word to noises that resembled it to some capacity, but they themselves were not physically capable of producing the noise that she had just let out. Which left only one question to be answered. What was she?
Hannah struggled to her feet (was that the right word?), confusion and fear coursing in equal measure through her every vein. She looked down, seeing paws below her instead of hands. Though she had been expecting it, the sight still threw her. It felt like a punch to the stomach. Animal paws -caramel-beige fur covering the four toes, and claw tips protruding ever-so-slightly from their sheaths. The world began to narrow again.
When she came to her senses this time, there was no throbbing pain accompanying her overwhelming sense of displacement. For a moment, she lay there, simply feeling the softness against her back, the warmth of something draped across her, listening to the sound of raindrops pattering loudly against a windowpane. Then everything came flooding back, and Hannah sat up with a jolt and an unintentional gaspy exhale of breath. She registered the bend in her middle, the way her hands strayed to either side of her, gripping the sides of the bed with their four digits and opposable thumb. Human. Never before had that word had such a profound effect.
Before she had time to properly catch up with her racing thoughts, a quiet cough from somewhere to her right cut her off. A woman sat in a chair a few feet away from her –short, dumpy, with grey hair rimming her face. It took a second, but Hannah placed her. The school nurse. The woman looked slightly embarrassed, and Hannah followed her gaze back to herself. The blanket that had been placed on her had fallen to her stomach as she’d sat up, and Hannah was mortified to find that beneath it lay nothing but her bare skin. Mortification rose in her, combating with the extremis of all her other emotions to send a hot flush of blood to her cheeks. She grabbed the blanket, and drew it up higher. The nurse gave an almost imperceptible nod.
“How are you feeling?” she asked, voice soft and kind, laced with sincerity and almost dripping honey. It was in wild contrast with her heavy jaw and deep-set eyes.
Hannah opened her mouth to reply automatically, the ‘fine’ already forming in her throat before she shut it with a click. For the first time, she stopped to consider the question. How was she feeling? Physically, she was completely sound; the sharp pain in her knee had long since faded, and the ache in her back was hardly noticeable. The pounding headache that had plagued her earlier had vanished as well, as had the violent nausea that had, in her mind, triggered the whole episode. But, the tone in the nurse’s voice had suggested a concern surpassing that of bodily-wellbeing. How was she feeling mentally?
“Lost,” she replied.
The nurse’s eyebrows raised, steely grey mountain peaks. “You had your “first Change” a little over ten minutes ago in Henry Baker’s ninth grade English class. It is known that the shock of the event increases exponentially with the age the Change occurs at, so it is no strange thing that you fell unconscious soon after you realized what had happened. Mr. Baker took it upon himself to carry you down here while you were still in your shifted form. Moments before you woke up you changed back –also common; it is difficult to hold the change the first few times. Your parents have been called, and they will arrive soon. Does that help?” She recounted everything with such cool, collected factuality that one would assume that she dealt with this on a daily basis. But Hannah knew better. Even in elementary schools and middle schools, first Changes only occurred on average once every month or two. At a high school, it was practically unheard-of.
“I-it’s not that,” Hannah answered again, hearing the words for the first time as they left her mouth, “I know what happened –it just-“
“Frightened you? Confused you?” There were no eyebrow-raises this time around; the nurse was in her depth –this was the answer she had been expecting from the start.
“Yes –I guess so- yeah.”
The intercom by the cot Hannah was seated on let out a low buzz, and the nurse got to her feet.
“That’ll be your parents. I’m afraid your clothes are a bit of a state –you can wear them still if you’d like, but there are also replacement garments on that table right there. Get dressed, and I’ll bring your parents in to meet you. Okay, dear?” She added in the last word after a pause, like an afterthought.
Hannah nodded, and slid off the cot. Her feet touched the floor just as the door shut with a click.
End of chapter
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139,618 Literary Works • 672,630 Reviews
hmm... not sure what to say about this. I have a few questions though.First of all,what is a change? you never told your reader what a change is. An the blanket part, nurses don't normally do that. I'm a bit confused with this story. Keep writing though, I want to see more. <3
It's all going to be explained a bit later in the story. I wish it was acceptable to just give a huge infodump at the very beginning, just to clear everything up! xD A Change, though, is the word that describes a Changeling's shift from human to animal form, and vice versa. A first Change, specifically, is the first time that happens. And, the blanket was necessary because poor Hannah lost her clothes when she Changed, and I'm pretty sure it would be super awkward to wake up completely naked. XD
It is a bit confusing, yeah. I'm sorry. D: Thank you, though! I certainly plan on it! c:
Hey, Evil with a review
"The rain fell in torrents outside the window, turning the world beyond into a haze of grey. The only spot of colour was the climbing frame; a pastel-streak of yellow in the monochromatic playground."
--Some say that opening with the weather is cliché. It's good that you were brief in your description, however when I read about a depressed protagonist who is observing bad weather, I get a little bored. It's not very captivating. Also, I think you should rethink your word choice here. Not only does "monochromatic" seem out of place, it's a waste of an adjective because you covered colour already. You could easily swap that adjective for one that adds more to the picture.
"Everyone in the room sat in variations of her position; heads on their arms, or in their hands, or, in a few cases, right against the desks."
--I dislike that you worded it so that the position is hers. Why hers? She didn't invent sitting like that. Also "everyone in the room"? We don't know for sure who is in this room. It might be implicit at this point but we still don't know for sure. When you read your writing back, play a game. Pretend you are the reader and that you are allowed to take whatever you read any way you want, unless the meaning is established. "Everyone in the room" just became a classroom of Simpsons characters for all I know (I play this game every time I review a story). Finally, "right against the desks" doesn't necessarily mean they are resting their head directly on top of it. "Against" makes me think of a vertical surface.
" It was last period. The whole school was in a near comatose state, drilled to the brink of exhaustion in their previous three classes. All they could do now was watch the clock, counting out every second of the seventy-five minutes left of their confinement. "
--Please remove "It was last period". It's redundant, considering the following sentence. Also remove "out", it could just be "counting every second . . . "
"Or, as in Hannah’s case, stare out the window, at the thunderstorm working itself up into a frenzy. In her unbiased opinion (as she’d spent roughly a half hour at each of them), it was the more interesting of the two options."
--So far in this whole opening paragraph we have weather, a sullen classroom of students, a teacher that nobody is listening to and then once more, the weather. I'm not trying to be harsh, just honest. You could do more to captivate your readers. I'm not saying that you need to include explosions or anything, just give them something, anything to ask themselves "huh, where will this lead to?" Finally, I dislike "at each of them", looking out of a window or looking at a clock isn't a location. You can't go there.
"There was a steady pounding just beneath her skull, and a low churning roiling in her stomach like the storm outside"
--The first part of this sentence is excellent however I found "like the storm outside" to be weak and a poor way to round that sentence off.
"All she wanted to do was go home, and curl up on her bed with a book, or maybe just collapse and fall asleep right off the bat. The latter option was looking increasingly more appealing as time wore on. Only fifteen more minutes…"
--If you weren't a good writer, I'd have stopped reading by now. Probably sooner. I'll give you the benefit of the doubt because you obviously are good at writing. You can create a scene well, it's just not particularly alluring just yet.
A violent crack of thunder shattered Hannah’s stupor, and, judging by the reaction of the rest of the class, theirs as well. Mr. Baker’s sentence dropped off into silence, and he looked up from his hands to his students, as if only just becoming aware of their presence. A ripple of muttering spread out, as it always did; rhetorical and obvious exclamations of, ‘Did you hear that?’ and ‘Scared me half to death!’.
--This was amazing. That's all I have to say. I didn't even care that you went back to the weather because the way you built it up made is seem so ominous and real. The beginning makes a lot more sense now, however I stand by my comments. If I wasn't in reviewing mode I would have probably stopped reading.
"“Class, quiet down! It was just a bit of thunder! We’re almost done here, just pay attention for ten more minutes, please.” Mr. Baker snapped, trying to regain (well, not really, as he never had it to begin with) the class’ attention. Hannah sunk lower into her seat, gritting her teeth against the pounding in her head. Her stomach did a sort of backflip, and her fists clenched."
--Also amazing. I really suggest starting the story closer to "A violent crack of thunder" because in that paragraph we get the weather, the stupor, Mr Baker, everything you said before, minus the playground. It was all of that, but condensed and more interesting.
"A whisper from somewhere behind her, accompanied by the prod of a pencil eraser against her back, caused Hannah’s head to rise slightly"
--I think the LY adverb at the end of this sentence is annoying. Take that out and read the sentence back. I personally much prefer it that way
" She turned, to see Melody watching her with an expression of concern furrowing her brow and settling between her storm-grey eyes."
--I'm not the best with comma placement so I'm going to admit that it's definitely not the kind of advice I always give, but I don't think the first comma is necessary.
"She smiled and jerked a nod in response, not trusting herself to speak lest she accidentally spew all over her friend’s desk. Melody didn’t look convinced, but she didn’t press the question"
--The word "lest" is a little too Old English for me. I don't think it suits your style (I don't mean that in a negative way)
"staring fixedly"
--Do you really need that adverb? Staring kind of implies that. Try not to reinforce the meaning of a word if it already has a clear meaning
"For that, Hannah was overwhelmingly thankful. She rested her head on her arms again, staring fixedly at the initials (or so she assumed) carved into the wood of her desk. RT, they read, ragged and deeply cut, but worn smooth by countless fingertips tracing over their surface. She brought out her left pinkie, and did just as all the others had, touching the groove and moving along the contours. It was a strangely comforting motion."
--The way you describe certain parts of your story is amazing. Really. In my head, I traced the initials with her and it was almost as if I could feel it myself. Nicely done
"Firstly, ‘I’m going to throw up,’ painted in vibrant and jagged yellow, and secondly, ‘Not in class, please not in class’ scrawled alongside it in a jarring shade of red"
--I loved this. I think everyone can relate to that, even if you haven't been in that situation, you'd know how embarrassing that would be
"They tumulted together, clashing like the storm outside the classroom and adding to the cacophony in her head"
--"I can't find "tumulted" in a dictionary and "cacophony" definitely doesn't belong here, either.
"The world seemed to narrow"
--"Too"
"Her knee connected with the desk corner, sending a jolt of pain down through her nerve endings and straight to the synapses in her brain. It registered -pain. Then she fell over."
--I'm not sure if I like this. It's put together well, but does it suit your story?
"The next thing she knew, she was on the floor –cold, hard linoleum pressing up against her throbbing back, and the storm had somehow descended into the classroom, violent sound swirling around her, noise and light and sensation flooding in like a tide breaking the gates. For a moment, she was disoriented. Where was she? The reek of sweat, mingling with the aroma of perfume, and the sharp smell of pencil shavings. Too-loud voices of all pitches and frequencies, and then a head, swimming into view, far too close for comfort. Mr. Baker, leaning over her, brown eyes wide with what could only be described as shock crinkling the corners, stubbly jaw slack, mouth open, and coffee-breath contaminating her air supply. English class. Last period. Thursday, November 19th."
--Absolutely amazing.
"The words came a moment later, brain having to strain to pick out the meaning from the overflow of sound coursing in through her ears."
--I think you could remove "in"
" But, most of all, there was one word, that struck her thoughts stone-dead, "
--Same drill with the commas, but I think you can remove the one after "word"
"No. No, no, no, no. The word magnified in her mind, spaces dissolving and leaving one long tangle, twisting and solidifying, rebelling against the voices that dared lay their stifling verdict down. Changeling. As if. She was fourteen now –that simply didn’t happen at this age. Her life was set, path planned and concrete. That word was not allowed to sidle its way in now, and tear down those foundations she had spent so long building. It had no place in her life, so those people saying it right now, letting it pass their lips like a curse could just shut their mouths. Hannah felt a vehement snarl escape her."
--I'm so glad I kept reading. Your style is just so.
"desk legs scraping and feet sliding away were the instrumental to the violent song raging in her head"
--Definitely rephrase "the instrumental to the"
"Hannah struggled to her feet (was that the right word?), confusion and fear coursing in equal measure through her every vein. She looked down, seeing paws below her in the place of hands"
--"seeing paws below her instead of hands" would sound better
"Never before had that word had such a profound effect."
--The second "had" is really clunky
"The woman looked slightly discomfited"
--I don't think you used "discomfited" correctly. You're using a verb like an adjective
"with the extremis of all her other emotions to send a hot flush of blood to colour her cheeks"
--"of blood to her cheeks" or something like that would sound less awkward
"“How are you feeling?” she asked, voice soft and kind, laced with sincerity and almost dripping honey"
--Haha, lovely. You really do go the extra mile to create an image
"The nurse’s eyebrows raised, steely grey mountain peaks. “You had what is commonly termed your “first Change” a little over ten minutes ago in Henry Baker’s ninth grade English class. It is known that the shock of the event increases exponentially with the age the Change occurs at, so it is no strange thing that you fell unconscious soon after you realized what had happened. Mr. Baker took it upon himself to carry you down here while you were still in your shifted form. Moments before you woke up you changed back –also common; it is difficult to hold the change the first few times. Your parents have been contacted, and they will arrive soon. Does that clear everything up?” She recounted everything with such cool, collected factuality that one would assume that she dealt with this on a daily basis. But Hannah knew better. Even in elementary schools and middle schools, first Changes only occurred on average once every month or two. At a high school, it was practically unheard-of."
--This whole dialog seemed incredibly unnatural. First of all, it went on for ages. Second, the "does that clear everything up" part was over the top rude. I would have drop-kicked her
" I’m afraid your clothes are a bit out of state"
--"a bit of a state" or "clothes are a state" - this might be because I'm from the UK, so let me know if that's the case
" she pointed at the table that sat right behind the chair she had occupied until moments ago, “that table right there. Get dressed, and I’ll bring your parents in to meet you. Okay, dear?” She added in the last word after a pause, like an afterthought."
--Cut out the whole pointing thing, we don't really need to know that and besides, it ruins your dialog because it's harder to read it how she says it
"Okay, dear?” She added in the last word after a pause, like an afterthought."
-Do you mean the last two words or as in "you always have to have the last word"
Overall, I really enjoyed this piece. You create a scene with magnificent skill. If I can delve into the world a writer creates then that's a job well done. You seriously have to continue this because I want to keep reading. I would love to see this story develop. Please let me know if and when you post more.
Something I didn't enjoy, as you know, is the beginning. I felt that you could have opened your story closer to the thunderclap and captivated your readers from there. I also think that you should cut parts out if you have similar sentences already or have already explained something. Worst of all, though, is the nurse's dialog. The transformation came as a great shock, so well done there. However, after that, I started asking loads and loads of questions, as you can imagine. Trouble is, the nurse blurted out information in a massive info-dump, and she didn't even really reveal anything major. It was a tease. I still want to know why they are taking this both so smoothly. Well, not so much Hannah, but she is acting as if she knows all about this changing thing. I don't understand. So when the nurse became an expert, I was just shocked. I guess it's because I just want to know the answer and it's annoying that I don't know. ^^
Thank you so much for the brilliant critique! I am most certainly going to go back and change this up as par your excellent suggestions! Honestly, thank you! c:
(And, I do have four and a half more chapters sitting somewhere on a Word document, so it's a likely thing that you'll be seeing more soon. Unfortunately, they're very rough, just like this one, so they'll be in desperate need of critiquing. XD I make a habit of not reading over and editing my things until I'm farther into a story.)
You're very welcome. I'm eager to read more so do message me! Thanks
Well...what can I say?
This was amazing. Perfect vocabulary, sentence structure, flow of writing...and it was all so vivid. And yes, the only thing I can suggest is: more simple sentences? So that its easier to understand?
How do you do it? Seriously, I'm having problems with my own writing and I'd do anything to make it like yours.
Thank you! <3 I'm so glad you enjoy it! Thanks for the suggestion -I've found I do have a sort of problem with incorporating simple sentences; I'll need to look into it!
It's just practice, I guess, and the fact that I've been reading novels since first grade. That's the big one, I think, because I've never actually had a proper "lesson" on how to write effectively -I just picked everything up through the books I've read. xD
If you'd like, I'd be more than happy to look some of your stuff over and offer some critique? C:
I have to say, honestly - I am very impressed with your writing. You evidently have a true talent for taking words and putting them together in sentences that usually have a nice flow, so good job! The writing was definitely the highlight of the story of me, though I have to say - I feel some sentences could have been a little...simpler? They seemed to often run on, if you understand what I'm saying? But that is just a small nit-pick. I believe your writing to be so good that it nearly outweighs that criticism.
'Her blood slowed to ice in her veins.' This sentence sort of feels a little choppy and just out of place?
I love how you described the student's boredom that was just enveloping the classroom and how Hannah was anxious to leave. I (as many others) can relate to that feeling extremely well and you captured it remarkably! While this is marked under 'Fantasy', her 'first change' was still shocking to read about and you also painted a vivid picture of the transformation. That's actually a big challenge, so be proud that you it well.
I have nothing else to add, though I might return and re-read later? Either way, you are a terrific writer and this a great piece. Best wishes!
Thank you so, so much! It honestly means more than I can say to read such wonderful compliments, and to know that you derived honest enjoyment from this rather useless product of my boredom. (I see what you mean about long sentences; they seem to happen to me quite a lot. xD) Seriously, though, thank you.