Je t'aime

Flower~Child wrote:"Je t’aime," she said, the French words slurring slightly as she spoke. "I love you to Aimèe, I won’t let them get away with this," Steve declaired comma?strongly. He looked into her clear blue eyes one last time, and his facade broke. Silent tears rolled down his face as he watched her fade away. Blodblood stained his white, button-down shirt as he held her limp body in his arms. She always liked me to wear that type of shirt. She thought they made me look sophisticated. If I had been smart though, I wouldn’t have let her come here today.

~
My story beganwouldn't it be begins? But I don't know haha in the large city of Bishkek. The summers were always too hot, and the winters were always too cold. I hated living in Russia, I missed my hometown. I had to be there though, I had to attend a writers convention. I told everyone I wanted to follow my passion, and now I was paying the price.

The good thing about living here was the writing classes. I had improved quite a bit taking them, and I couldn’t wait to show the people at the convention the improvements to my novel. Confidence usually wasn’t my thing, but I felt that this was my best work yet. Everyone said that I needed to gain confidence, but I never did, I just learned how to act.
~
Now that I think about it, I fit in better in Russia.
~
Time moved rather slowly the week of the convention. My patience was wearing thin, it wasn’t good for anyone to sit in an apartment all day long. I could have called my friendcomma since it is a interrogative Victor, but I didn’t feel like it, I decided instead to go and eat.

The restaurant I picked was packed. It took nearly an hour just to get my food, and when I got it, it was under-cooked. So instead of wasting more time there I decided to take a walk home. After all it could clear my head.

It was already late afternoon when I began the long walk home. Not many people were out on the streets. Everyone was afraid to be out, especially at night. People turned up missing, and if they were found, it wasn't alive.

My walk home seemed as if it would be very uneventful. The moon was out, but it was blocked from view by some neighboring trees. The two of them paired together created eerie shadows, that stretched across the road ahead of me. I tried to keep my mind on the bright patches of light, and that was the only reason I noticed her.

Small frightened eyes stared at me. I could tell she wanted to run, but her feet were frozen in place. My foot was caught in half step, and I realized that I was staring at her. A cut off scream escaped her throat, but it sounded like a shrill whisper.
"I wont hurt you," I cautioned.
She still didn’t move, so I let my gaze drop to the ground. A little notebook caught my attention.
"Um, you dropped your notebook, ma’am.
Her speech came out as stammers at first, but became clearer and clearer the more she spoke.
"I’m not old enough to be called ma’am," she retorted.
A French accent ran deep in her voice. I noticed her shoulders began to relax, so I took a chance and began to meander over to her. She didn’t move so I continued to walk towards her. I stooped down and grabbed her notebook, handing it to her afterwards.
"Merci," she said flashing a pearly white smile.
"Anytime", I replied, "Sorry commaI cant can'tsay it in French."
She giggled quietly without replying.
"So, what’s a pretty girl like you doing out here this late?"
A contemplative look crossed her face.
"I couldn’t sleep, I’m waiting to go to a writing convention," she replied.
"The one that happens on Monday?"
Shock covered her face, "How did you know?"
"That’s the whole reason I’m in Russia. Would you like me to walk you home? It’s not really safe out here."
She looked at me hesitantly for a moment, and then replied. "Sure, I’m sure your safer than most people out here.
"What’s your name by the way?
"Aimèe, and yours?"
"Steve, I said in embarrassment, I never liked my name. It seemed to old and simple. She smiled a big cheesy grin, "I love it."

~
From then on, days in Russia wern’t long enough for me. I was always with Aimèe, except at night. She would always leave in the afternoon, and I would suffer her absence until the next day.

Monday was coming up, and that meant the writers convention was to. Aimèe came over as usual, and we prepared for the next day. It grew late, but she didn’t leave. We were both to engulfed in our writings.
"You know, we have to stop sometime," she saidcomma stiffling stiflinga yawn.
"Yeah," I said commalooking up from my paper.
I scooted over beside her and brushed her cheek with my hand.
I studied her face, and I found a question written on it.
"What do you want to ask me?"
"Do you care if I stay here tonight, it’s to late to walk home."
A smile played at the edge of my mouth, "Sure, I don’t mind."
~
"C'est lundi," Aimèe declared.I know french and obviously you do too but most people do not so if I were you, which I am not remember that, make it so the words in french are somewhere translated. But thats just me
"Sure is," I mumbled throwing a pillow over my face.
"We have to get ready to go to the convention," she said impatiently.
"I know that," I said as I sat up and wiped the sleep out of my eyes.
I watched Aimèe as she combed her glossy, auburn hair. She placed a clip in it, holding her bangs out of her face. I grabbed a black T-shirt and some jeans, and began to pull them on.
"Now that won’t do," Aimèe said giving me a disapproving look. She began to fumble through my drawers. After a while she pulled out a black, button-down shirt.
"Put it on," she demanded.
I did as I was told, and then we left for the convention.
"Stay close to me now, Aimeê,you changed where the accent mark was, watch out for that that can make the reader question if it is still the same person, it’s not safe here."
The reason it wasn’t safe in Russia, was because of the soldiers. They didn’t care what you did, they used any excuse they could find to kill.
"I’ll be fine, I’ve lived here longer than you," she retorted.
We arrived at the convention early, so I found Victor and began to talk to him. Aimeêwasn't that an grave accent mark before? said she had to go to the bathroom, so I told her I would wait for her at the spot I was standing in. She disappeared into the crowd of people, and I continued to talk to Victor.
The next thing I knew I heard a gunshot fired. You would think people would be screaming, but they weren’t. It was to common in Russia, to many dead. I walked over to see what happened, but what I found wasn’t what I expected. What I found was Aimèwasn't it before circumflex accent mark?e, covered in blood, laying on the ground. I gasped in horror at the sight of her body. I snatched her lifeless body up, ignoring the protests of the soldiers.

"Je t’aime," she said, the French words slurring slightly as she spoke. "I love you to [color=#FF0000]too not[/color]Aimèe, I won’t let them get away with this," I declared strongly. I
looked into her clear blue eyes one last time, and my facade broke. Silent tears rolled down my face as I watched her fade away. Blood stained my white, button-down shirt as I held her limp body in my arms. She always liked me to wear that type of shirt. She thought they made me look sophisticated. If I had been smart though, I wouldn’t have let her come here today.

The soldiers jerked her body out of my arms, I screamed in protest, and began to beat the soldier in the face. They couldn’t stop me, they killed my, delete comma it doesn't need a pause thereAimèe! The next feeling I had was a sharp pain in my chest. I looked down to see the fresh bullet wound there. Things began to get blurry, and finally they faded away. "I’m coming with you Aimèe, just wait, I’m coming.

Hi! I'm Abby
I like this a lot, even though it was very sad. But a few things confused me. First of all, this may just be me being dense, but it took me forever to figure out you were telling the story. I read the beggining part, and when you talked about the scared girl named Aimee, I thought, Whoa, ANOTHER aimee? Then I figured out that it was a flashback. You might want to clarify that. Also, you said that Aimee pulled out a black button down shirt, then you said that blood stained his white button down shirt. This is the same day, right? Did he change? You spelled some word wrong, but as a horrible speller, I am not qualified to correct you.

Hi there.

First off, you wrote the title wrong. Je t'aime, is the right way to write it. Believe me, you're talking to a frenchie here.

"Je’t’aime," she said, the French words, slurring slightly as she spoke.

"I love you too Aimeê, I won’t let them get away with this,"

She always liked me to wear that type of shirt. She thought they made me look sophisticated. If I had been smart though, I wouldn’t have let her come here today.

The summers were always too hot, and the winters were always too cold.

It wasn’t good for anyone to sit in an apartment all day long. I could have called my friend Victor, but I didn’t feel like it. I decided to go and eat instead.

I could have called my friend Victor, but I didn’t feel like it, I decided instead to go and eat instead.

"Yeah," I said looking up from my paper.

"Do you care if I stay here tonight, it’s to late to walk home."

A smile played at the edge of my mouth, "Sure, I don’t mind."

"It’s lundi," Aimeê declared.

"We have to get ready to go to the convention," she said impatiently.

I gasped in horror at the site did you mean "at the sight of her?.

"Je’t’aime," she said, the French words slurring slightly as she spoke.
"I love you to Aimeê, I won’t let them get away with this," I declared strongly.

Well I think guitargirl has pretty much covered the grammatical and structural errors and typos, so I'll skip the mundanities (is that even a word?) and get straight to the point. This was a beautiful little story, sad and sweet. I love the setting (Communist Russia?) as well as the French words (though I must admit I didn't understand many of them). The ending, though tragic, was very nice, if a bit sudden. My only quibble about the story would be that it could use perhaps a little more plot, a little more character development. I mean, he's only known Aimee a few days, and yet they're seemingly madly in love. But overall I thought it was quite good. You should write stories more often, dear.

Aww, I found this good, yet sad. I shall do what other people do on here, and go over grammer errors, and then give my general impression. :]

Flower~Child wrote:"Je’t’aime," she said, the French words slurring slightly as she spoke. "I love you too Aimeê, I won’t let them get away with this," Steve declaired strongly. He looked into her clear blue eyes one last time, and his facade broke. Silent tears rolled down his face as he watched her fade away. Blood stained his white, button-down shirt as he held her limp body in his arms. She always liked me to wear that type of shirt. She thought they made me look sophisticated. If I had been smart though, I wouldn’t have let her come here today. <-- This paragraph confused me. How come it goes to second person to first? It says "Steve declared." and then goes to "She always liked me to wear that type of shirt.

~
My story began in the large city of Bishkek. The summers were always to hot, and the winters were always to cold. I hated living in Russia; I missed my hometown. I had to be there though; I had to attend a writers convention. I told everyone I wanted to follow my passion, and now I was paying the price.

The good thing about living here was the writing classes. I had improved quite a bit taking them, and I couldn’t wait to show the people at the convention the improvements to my novel. Confidence usually wasn’t my thing, but I felt that this was my best work yet. Everyone said that I needed to gain confidence, but I never did, I just learned how to act.
~
Now that I think about it, I fit in better in Russia.
~
Time moved rather slowly the week of the convention. My patience was wearing thin. I wasn’t good for anyone to sit in a apartment all day long. I could have called my friend Victor, but I didn’t feel like it. I decided to go and eat instead.

The restaurant I picked was packed. It took nearly an hour just to get my food, and when I got it, it was under-cooked. So instead of wasting more time there I decided to take a walk home. After all, it could clear my head.

It was already late afternoon when I began the long walk home. Not many people were out on the streets. Everyone was afraid to be out, especially at night. People turned up missing, and if they were found, it was alive. <-- This sentence confused me a little. Could you clarify?

My walk home seemed as if it would be very uneventful. The moon was out, but it was blocked from view by some neighboring trees. The two of them paired together created eerie shadows, that stretched across the road ahead of me. I tried to keep my mind on the bright patches of light, and that was the only reason I noticed her.

Small frightened eyes stared at me. I could tell she wanted to run, but her feet were frozen in place. My foot was caught in half step, and I realized that I was staring at her. A cut off scream escaped her throat, but it sounded like a shrill whisper.
"I wont hurt you," I cautioned.
She still didn’t move, so I let my gaze drop to the ground. A little notebook caught my attention.
"Um, you dropped your notebook, ma’am.
Her speech came out as stammers at first, but became clearer and clearer the more she spoke.
"I’m not old enough to be called ma’am," she retorted.
A French accent ran deep in her voice. I noticed her shoulders began to relax, so I took a chance and began to meander over to her. She didn’t move so I continued to walk towards her. I stooped down and grabbed her notebook, handing it to her afterwards.
"Merci," she said flashing a pearly white smile.
"Anytime", I replied, "Sorry I cant say it in French."
She giggled quietly without replying.
"So, what’s a pretty girl like you doing out here this late?"
A contemplative look crossed her face.
"I couldn’t sleep, I’m waiting to go to a writing convention," she replied.
"The one that happens on Monday?"
Shock covered her face, "How did you know?"
"That’s the whole reason I’m in Russia. Would you like me to walk you home? It’s not really safe out here."
She looked at me hesitantly for a moment, and then replied. "Sure, I’m sure you're safer than most people out here.
"What’s your name by the way?
"Aimeê, and yours?"
"Steve." I said in embarrassment, I never had liked my name. It seemed to old and simple. She smiled a big cheesy grin, "I love it."

~
From then on, days in Russia weren’t long enough for me. I was always with Aimeê, except at night. She would always leave in the afternoon, and I would suffer her absence until the next day.

Monday was coming up, and that meant the writers convention was too. Aimeê came over as usual, and we prepared for the next day. It grew late, but she didn’t leave. We were both to engulfed in our writings.
"You know, we have to stop sometime," she said stiffling a yawn.
"Yea," I said looking up from my paper.
I scooted over beside her and brushed her cheek with my hand.
I studied her face, and I found a question written on it.
"What do you want to ask me?"
"Do you care if I stay her tonight, it’s to late to walk home.
A smile played at the edge of my mouth, "Sure I don’t mind."
~
It’s lundi," Aimeê declared.
"Sure is," I mumbled throwing a pillow over my face.
"We have to get ready to go to the convention she aid impatiently.
"I know that," I said as I sat up and wiped the sleep out of my eyes.
I watched Aimeê as she combed her glossy, auburn hair. She placed a clip in it, holding her bangs out of her face. I grabbed a black T-shirt and some jeans, and began to pull them on.
"Now that won’t do," Aimeê said giving me a disapproving look. She began to fumble through my drawers. After a while she pulled out a black, button-down shirt.
"Put it on," she demanded.
I did as I was told, and then we left for the convention.
"Stay close to me now, Aimeê, it’s not safe here."
The reason it wasn’t safe in Russia, was because of the soldiers. They didn’t care what you did, they used any excuse they could find to kill.
"I’ll be fine, I’ve lived here longer than you," she retorted.
We arrived at the convention early, so I found Victor and began to talk to him. Aimeê said she had to go to the bathroom, so I told her I would wait for her at the spot I was standing in. She disappeared into the crowd of people, and I continued to talk to Victor.
The next thing I knew I heard a gunshot fired. You would think people would be screaming, but they weren’t. It was to common in Russia, to many dead. I walked over to see what happened, but what I found wasn’t what I expected. What I found was Aimeê, covered in blood, laying on the ground. I gasped in horror at the site. I snatched up her body, ignoring the protests of the soldiers.

"Je’t’aime," she said, the French words slurring slightly as she spoke.
"I love you to Aimeê, I won’t let them get away with this," I declared strongly.

I looked into her clear blue eyes one last time, and my facade broke. Silent tears rolled down my face as I watched her fade away. Blood stained my white, button-down shirt as I held her limp body in my arms. She always liked me to wear that type of shirt. She thought they made me look sophisticated. If I had been smart though, I wouldn’t have let her come here today.

The soldiers jerked her body out of my arms, I screamed in protest, and began to beat the soldier in the face. They couldn’t stop me, they killed my, Aimeê! The next feeling I had was a sharp pain in my chest. I looked down to see the fresh bullet wound in my chest. Things began to get blurry, and finally they faded away. "I’m coming with you Aimeê, just wait, I’m coming.