Young Writers Society

Hey Miriam! I'm here, again ^_^
First of all, I'm liking this, but nothing has made my breathe stop, if ya know what I'm meaning. You told me your biggest problem was that people would loose interest, and right now, it's not that I've lost interest, but it's not something I would wait anxiously for an update.

Now, onto the review!

“I think I like you. I mean, more than just a friend. I think I like you a lot, really, a lot.” I whispered solemnly in a desperate ramble; bracing myself to be shot down. Her eyes sparkled purple, and her lips glistened red, contrasting beautifully with her pale skin. A smile was edging its way up from the middle of her lips as she allowed a breath taking silence to shake every bone in my body. She nodded reflectively.
“I think I like you too. More than just a friend.” My jaw dropped; had she said what I thought she had? She grabbed my hand firmly in hers.

It was still dark out, but the roads were more busy than before. The engine started without too much persuasion and I continued my journey, still groggy from lack of sleep.

At my front door, shabby and scratched, I stood; unwilling to go in.

My head hit the pillow, and I slept.

“You know what, Lilac isn't too bad, I've had worse nicknames.” She relaxed into me, I'd gotten away with it, and found myself a new nickname for her.

I didn't like her real name 'Ebony' too formal, too German.

“Bloody hell Matt. Don't do that.” He smiled sheepishly in response and gave up his place beside me in the bed.
“Rough night last night?”
“Rough night last night?”

“So she said no, did she?" Matt pressed, it was the wrong thing to say.

“ .... Bloody Hell. Why did you do that Alex?”

He flicked the television remote, absent mindedly, and two blue eyed presenters appeared on the screen. They were glamorously dressed in all white, their tight 80s jackets and bootlegged jeans stuck to their bodies like glue, outlining every muscle.

He had changed the channel since I had last checked, it was on racing now.

I paused, terrified to unlock the screen of my shabby old Nokia. “Just look at it.” Matt was being as impatient as ever.

He offered for me to come, but being third wheel was never my scene.

Instead I did homework.

For hours I attempted to focus my mind, work but in the end I had to give up. Dinner at my mums.

I strode quickly towards the the front door.

It opened immediately, the door hinges straining under it's thick pine wood. My mother, a plump and eccentric woman, who had obviously had her ear pressed to the other side of it's wooden frame, waiting for my appearance; checked her watch critically. I was late, again.

My mother applauded her own chicken, as she brought it to the table.

my brother obviously thinking the same thing,

i I kept my fists tight under the table. “Thanks for dinner,” M my jaws locked and my face hardened. I attempted to glided gracefully out of the room.

war was what I was thinking. Getting them caught up in racial abuse, i was even wondering about him going off to war, decorated war veteran and all, but none of these ideas are confirmed. Thank you so much for your comment 'Pippiedooda' and Lucyy as well. It's so good to know what people think and it is what keeps me writing. I'm half way through chapter three and should have it up soon.

Miriam

Hello again! Sorry it took me so long to get to this part, I thought it was great though! I agree with the comments lucyy made but have a few more

My car didn't like the cold. Cars sped past

I whispered solemnly in a desperate ramble,

A smile was edging its way up from the middle of her lips as she allowed a breath taking silence to shake every bone in my body.

My eyes opened to find my car still sitting in the centre of the motorway. It was still dark out but the roads were more busy than before. It was five in the morning.

At my front door, shabby and scratched, I stood, unwilling to go in. I unlocked the door eventually

I didn't have the money to waste it on staying warm

I grinned watching her running so perfectly through the flowers

“You know what, Lilac isn't too bad, I've had worse nicknames.” She relaxed into me,

I leapt to hands and knees on the bed,

she couldn't just forget about me, about my world.

and idealise Hitler.”

I glared at him, anger rising, tempting one more word about Aryan, one more criticism of her.

My knuckles hit his stomach hard, slamming him into the opposite wall. “ Alex. Why did you do that?”

I sat back down beside him, our hair and eyes matching in mahogany oak tones. He flicked the television remote absent mindedly and two blue eyed presenters appeared on the screen

My phone beeped. What if it's her?

as I watched Matt bite his lip to contain laughter.

He offered for me to come, but being third wheel was never my scene.

the door hinges straining under the it's thick pine wood.

ear pressed to the other side of it's wooden frame,

It was normal, like I'd done for so many years, before I'd moved out.

all old and antique, mismatched from every other piece of furniture in the room.

displaying tree after tree in the dense forest around.

By the time we had all eaten we began discussions.

My family like discussing politics and I used to enjoy a debate, but unfortunately the story on everyone's lips is one that I am far too close to.

I mean, who do they think they are.

I lifted myself from the table, eyes fixed in concentration.

i kept my fists tight under the table.

I attempted to glided gracefully out of the room.

Hiya, I'm back!! (:

MiriamHannah wrote:
He left shortly after, to meet[s]ing [/s]his girlfriend for lunch. He offered for me to come, but being third wheel was never my scene. Instead I did homework. More and more upcoming tests demanded my attention and my mind needed something else than her to focus on, but my attempted distraction failed miserably.
I strode quickly towards the the front door. It opened immediately, the door hinges straining under the it's thick pine wood. My mother, a plump and eccentric woman, who had obviously had her ear pressed to the other side of it's wooden frame, waiting for my appearance; checked her watch critically. I was late, again. [This, again, is a jump from the previous chapter and doesn't make sense. Why does his mum have her ear pressed up to the front door? Or did you mean his bedroom door? Where did he come from that made him late home? I thought he already was home...You need to try and make these things clearer as it is slightly confusing at the moment (: ]
I allowed her ten minutes of solid grumbling, while I made myself comfortable against a kitchen cabinet. She spoke eagerly and with detail, every problem she had had in the last week was explained to me, analysed and then retold. I only nodded and looked sympathetic.
When dinner was finally ready, I navigated eagerly towards the table. It was normal, like I'd done for so many years, before I'd moved out [Okay, ignore what I said before lol, but still don't make a jump]. I didn't have to be independent for that evening. I'd always grown up with people telling me I had to move out at sixteen, gain my independence, but when I finally reached that stage in my life, all I wanted was to not have to worry about cooking dinner and maintaining an income. The Aryan don't have to move out till they[s]'re[/s] were eighteen, so why do we?
I looked around at the quaint room, my real home; lit by a crackling fire and several candles. The room was crammed with wooden ornaments and furniture, all old and antique, mismatched from every other piece of furniture in the room. A small window, [delete comma] faced me, displaying tree after tree in the dense forest around. Woodland scenery, something else I couldn't find in my flat. Each purple flower defined against the green moss.
By the time we had all eaten [who else is there at the house: his siblings, Dad...? Try and make this clearer that there is more than one person, aside your MC and his mother, in the house]we began discussions. My family like discussing politics and I used to enjoy a debate, but unfortunately the story on everyone's lips is one that I am far too close to.
“Those Aryans, they think they know everything. The purple eyed monsters, they own half the world, yet keep wanting more.” I gritted my teeth firmly together as my little brother spoke, obviously right from the mouth of his history teacher. “I mean, who do they think they are. Won a war sixty years ago and are still going on about it.” My fists clenched. “You know[comma] scientists are saying it was evolution that has changed them from their blonde hair, blue eyed style? Well it was actually inbreeding.”
I lifted myself from the table, eyes fixed in concentration. I was not going to punch my brother, despite the rising temptation. “Thanks for dinner,[replace with full stop]” My jaws locked and face hardened. I glided out of the room.

MiriamHannah wrote: Instead I did homework. More and more upcoming tests demanded my attention and my mind needed something else than her to focus on, but my attempted distraction failed miserably.
I strode quickly towards the the front door. It opened immediately, the door hinges straining under the it's thick pine wood.

Hitler? Wow, heavy subject. You sure you're ready to take that on? The horrors that happened there are far more horrifying than you could imagine.
I don't think you want to get into that; for one, it might scare you to death, the death of more than a million human beings, little children, people, ugh! How can you want to write about that? It's terrifying.
Second reason; what if someone gets offended? even if you call them 'monsters' let's say, one time, someone might sue you for calling his belief and his race a monster. Think about that.
I liked it a lot- you've got talent, and the whole history direction got me really surprised- in the good way though. I really really want to read more, the chapters are really great and the idea is awesome and the way you write too.
I liked it when he punched his friend it was well described- I've always had a problem with describing violence, and you did a fairly good job at it right now, so I say, give credit where credit is deserved. Nice going.
It really and honestly was good.
I think that you shouldn't change the history direction, despite what I just said. It gives the story a feeling of realness, like it actually happened. You also gave us the time of the story now, so I can be sure when it is. I liked that it isn't too far away, yet not that close. I don't think you're likely to be sued over it if you write that it's all fiction, but you can never be too carefull. Don't want to get yourself in trouble.
Thank you so much for PM-ing me, is it okay if you keep doing that? It's just helpful.
I can't wait to read next chapter!!
ofir

Hiya there, I have decided to review your piece today. I can see that it is a second chapter, so I apologise in advance if I ask any stupid questions - the best to do is just ignore them hehe. So, firstly I will go through the whole piece making [comments/suggestions] and edits or extra adding-ins, then I will go through the whole review with you at the end. Well, lets do this, and I really hope this helps you out!! (:

MiriamHannah wrote:Chapter 2

The name 'Aryan' suggests white skin, perfect health and beauty, all of which the race possesses. A powerful dictator once described them as 'pure blooded' and so it is thought to be wrong too, if part of the race,[delete comma] was to partner with anyone outside the Aryan race. The real name for the city which belongs to and homes all Aryans was lost in the 1960s, with their long dead ruler, (President Adolf Hitler) then came liberalism and fighting back. Those who had lived so long in secrecy for racial, health and religion purposes fought against the years of pain and suffering forced by the Aryan race and formed their own cities.
Lebensraum fighters, article 5000 special [Was that an article? If so, maybe you should put it in italics, to separate it from the rest of the chapter?]

I restarted the engine but it clicked uselessly. My car didn't like the cold. Cars sped past, a blur on the dark stretch of tarmac,[replace with semi-colon] I couldn't be bothered with retrying the engine, if it didn't work I was stranded. I allowed my eyes to shut, and they locked tight, plunging me into darkness.

“I think I like you. I mean, more than just a friend. I think I like you a lot, really, a lot.[replace with comma]” I whispered solemnly in a desperate ramble, bracing myself to be shot down. Her eyes sparkled purple, and her lips glistened red, contrasting beautifully with her pale skin. A smile was edging its way up from the middle of her lips as she allowed a breath taking silence to shake every bone in my body. She nodded reflectively.
“I think I like you too. More than just a friend.” My jaw dropped; had she said what I thought she had? She grabbed my hand firmly in hers.

A car horn sounded. My eyes opened to find my car still sitting in the centre of the motorway. It was still dark out but the roads were more busy than before. It was five in the morning. The engine started without too much persuasion and I continued my journey, still groggy from lack of sleep.
At my front door, shabby and scratched, I stood, unwilling to go in. [Whoa, that's a bit of a jump from driving on the motorway to be stood in front of her/his house. Also, your MC hasn't revealed their feelings on what the girl said to them... it's almost as though he/she imagined the reply and then just carried on driving... I would maybe slow the pace a little and fill in the gap between driving on the motorway and standing in front of the house (: ] I unlocked the door eventually and felt the silence flood into my ears. White washed walls, mud matted carpets, a single bedroom. It was cold, even for winter, I didn't like switching on the heating, I didn't have the money to waste it on staying warm. I curled up in my single bed, allowing the thick duvet to surround me. I hit the pillow and slept. [Now I'm entirely confused - who was he/she speaking to in the car and where has she gone... it's all a little too vague for my liking, read over this and try and fill in the gaps so it isn't so jumpy]

“Hey Lilac.” I grinned watching her running so perfectly through the flowers.
“What did you just call me?” Her eyebrows raised and her lips thinned.
“Lilac.” I knew she wouldn't like it, as it reminded her of her race, but I was just teasing.
“You know, technically[comma] because of the colour of my eyes I shouldn't be with you.” Her face tightened, her shoulders tensed. I rolled my eyes in response.
“Yes, but you love me too much now, you'll never leave me.” I smiled[comma] letting her calm down.
“You know what, Lilac isn't too bad, I've had worse nicknames.” She relaxed into me, I'd gotten away with it and found myself a new nickname for her. I didn't like her real name 'Ebony'[dash] it was too formal, too German.

A figure crouched, face hovering just over mine. I leapt to hands and knees on the bed, dragging myself towards the wall.
“Bloody hell[comma] Matt. Don't do that.” He smiled sheepishly in response and gave up his place beside me in the bed.
“Rough night last night?” He knew me well, too well. He'd figured out that I would go, before I had even decided it myself.

[New paragraph >>]It had been a rush,[replace with colon] I had grabbed my keys and left and was half way there by the time I knew consciously what I was doing. I had gone, even when I knew it would most likely be traumatic. I had to try, to persuade her, to change her mind. She couldn't just forget about me, about my world.
“So she said no, did she? Matt pressed, it was the wrong thing to say.
“Stop it.” I didn't want to dwell over last night.
“Why did you want to go out with an Aryan anyway, they worship the swastika, are ruled by Nazism, and idealise Hitler.” He just didn't know when to stop and the ideal time would have been before he had started speaking. I glared at him, anger rising, tempting one more word about Aryan, one more criticism of her. He didn't seem to notice.
“She's a...” I didn't let him finish, I didn't want to know what he thought. My knuckles hit his stomach hard, slamming him into the opposite wall. “ Alex. Why did you do that?”
“A warning.” A bear like growl rose automatically in my throat. He clutched his stomach feebly, it gave me a weird sense of pleasure to see him like that, crippled. I'm not mean but he should have known better than to tempt me. I'd never hit him before, despite his constant remarks, especially about her.
I sat back down beside him, our hair and eyes matching in mahogany oak tones. He flicked the television remote absent mindedly and two blue eyed presenters appeared on the screen[full stop] They were glamorously dressed in all white, their tight 80s jackets and bootlegged jeans stuck to their bodies like glue, outlining every muscle. It was obvious what race they were from. They were old Aryan[comma] those who were in Hitler's dream world, before they evolved. It was the greatest shame of the Aryan race when their hair started to darken, generation after generation turning slowly into what they are now. They were the laughing stock of the nation, before they reminded us that they were still good at fighting, that they were still the ancestors of those who fought against the British and won.
I was lost so deep in thought for a second that I forgot to listen to the TV. Matt looked over quizzically, I ignored him. He had changed the channel since I had last checked, it was on racing now. The repetitive whiz past the screen was relaxing. The cars reminded me of last night, stranded on the snow bombed motorway.
My phone beeped. What if it's her? [Thoughts work well in italics (: ] Matt peered over my shoulder, thinking the same thing. What if she regretted her harsh words last night? What if I had reminded her of my world, enough for her to want to return? I paused, terrified to unlock the screen of my shabby old Nokia.

[NP >>]“Just turn it on.” Matt was being as impatient as ever. I let the screen slide smoothly up. My cheeks flushed in realisation. How could I forget.[Replace with question mark, and maybe have this sentence in a line of its own to add extra impact?] I closed the phone without even bothering to read it. “Well?” I liked having Matt questioning me, silent in confusion and wonder. Despite that, I was embarrassed that I would have to answer.
“It's just a text. My mum, she just messaged to remind me about dinner tonight. I always have dinner with her on a Saturday night.” My cheeks turned a deeper red as I watched Matt bite his lip to contain laughter. The urge to punch him hit me hard, however I resisted.