It's been a rainy day at Clarence Prep High; the clouds have cleared and it's only sprinkling now. The sky's still rather gray, but the sun's out, at the very least. The time is 3:00, and as James grabs his backpack to head out, he remembers to stop by Mr. Trace's room, the Literature teacher.
Mr. Trace, always quite fond of the occult and the extraterrestrial while also a pretty big conspiracy theorist, seemed the perfect wacky character to express a measly concern to. James despises being judgmental or predisposed to harsh treatment of someone due to their interests, but this Mr. Trace fellow is certainly the type to change one's mind about such a thing; he's an over-the-top teacher who devotes more enthusiasm to his job than even his coworkers care for, a kind gentleman with a heart of gold who cares deeply for his students, and, to top it off, an avid believer in government conspiracy. Who else to talk to about a matter such as this?
One of the school's surveillance cameras in the corner of Mr. Trace's room records not only audio, but also video of the conversation.
BEGIN TRANSCRIPT
James walks into Mr. Trace's classroom and sets his backpack down on a nearby desk, checking his watch. Mr. Trace is not present in the classroom right now. What is, however, is his plethora of alien memorabilia, from the stereotypical gray alien mask to a Limited Edition Radioactive Slime Launcher he won in a contest a while back. James walks a path around the classroom, admiring the various posters spreading the wisdom of reading a good book once in a while, something he's neglected to do. This continues on for quite a while without much noise other than James' footsteps on a wooden floor. That is, until Mr. Trace walks in carrying a pink floral bag with a yellow sleeve hanging limply from a partially zipped area of the bag Mr. Trace likely was too preoccupied to fix at the time.
"Mr. Trace!"
"Oh! Hey there man! Uhhh...How'd'ya do, fine sir?"
"Cute, Mr. Trace. A common greeting shall more than suffice for the time being, lest I talk to you in casual tone."
"Oh, I see. You got the whole "Mr. Articulate" thing going for you, right? It's alright, I get it. Alas, dear fellow, I'd greatly appreciate it if you'd speak in casual tone. Just because I'm of higher implied status does not mean I'm not deserving of friendly mannerisms, including getting to hear that wonderful mind of yours stall and clang trying to crank out a modern phrase or two!"
"It's lit. Turn up squad. Hashtag WINNING. Want me to continue?"
"Sigh...Touche, James. Now, as you can tell, I'm rather busy today, so if you wouldn't mind simply telling me what it is you're concerned with -"
"I'd like to inform you, Mr. Trace, that my concern is, as one would say, right up your alley."
"Really?! What is it, then?"
"Aliens. Extra-species, rather."
"Hoo-hoo-HOO! You got that "right up your alley" thing perfect! Care for a book or two on them? A couple of links to trusted alien studies blogs? Ooh! How about you read a report of mine on UFO sightings and-"
"I assure you, Mr. Trace, that as much as I would love to do so, I simply cannot dilly-dally around with alien books. What I must discuss with you is something of higher magnitude than your typical sighting or reporting."
"'Kay. Lay it on me!"
"Have you ever thought about the possibility of the government-"
"Covering up the UFO sightings of 2040? Picking off conspiracy theorists who get public platforms? Attempting to silence the potential insurrection at the first true encounter early by pushing for more rationality and themes thereof in media directed towards small children so they don't wind up-"
"Looking and sounding exactly like a character off of one of those little kid TV shows. Look, Mr. Trace. I may not be an avid believer in government conspiracies of any sort, nor am I willing to put in time to try and discover any, lest I wind up exactly like you - which, i assure you, isn't a fate I would wish upon my worst enemy - but I'm legitimately concerned and in need of counsel as to whether the existence of government-implemented extra-species individuals is real or not."
"...I'm sorry, what?"
"I think...someone here, there, anywhere...with the looks of a human...could be a cat or dog in disguise, or any type of nonhuman entity, really."
"Really?"
"Really."
The room goes entirely silent for a while; Mr. Trace strokes his goatee and contemplates. James leans back on a desk and yawns, looking around occasionally. A minute and a half later, Mr. Trace gives his response.
"Huh."
"Huh?"
"I got you."
"You do?"
"You bet. And I 100% understand where you're coming from."
"Really?! If that's the case, then-"
"But."
"But?"
"I don't see why you're so concerned all of a sudden about something that, to you, seems so trivial compared to the great plight of life. I mean, whenever we have our discussions pertaining to the news, or like, the protesting downtown, you just sorta shrug your shoulders and brush off the issues as "insignificant" or "just human nature". I'm not saying that it's bad for you to start taking the initiative to express yourself to me on this particular topic, I'm just saying that it's rather - I'm looking for a vocab word here - unorthodox for you to show concern over something that most people would shrug off similarly to you. Uh, no offense."
James, taken aback by Mr. Trace's reaction, sits up and folds his arms, looking at the ground thoughtfully.
"None taken; I guess I should've thought about that beforehand. I mean, yeah, it's rather weird of a concern to have, and I honestly don't even know where it came from. Perhaps because of that article we discussed on Friday a couple weeks ago - you know, the one about that girl who got in some horrible pileup following a bombing on the freeway and had to be hospitalized for severe burns and vision deformities who was supposed to be released sometime recently. I guess I just figured...I figured..."
At about this moment, James takes a deep sigh, one filled with the chops and fragments expected of a bad road. He then starts chuckling a bit, shaking his head while staring at the floor. Mr. Trace simply analyzes his behavior closely, his lips pursing as both gentlemen stood in the room, a sense of discontent filling the air between them. James looks up, his eyes staring deeply into Mr. Trace's - a guilty, regretful stare.
"Disregard what I said, Mr. Trace. Everything. From the smart remarks about greetings earlier to the entirety of what I just told you. I need better things to do than get all bent out of shape over something that I ought not to."
"Hey, man. It's all right. I don't want to make you feel like you're not accepted, so I listen to what you have to say and don't discourage you from speaking your mind. It's perfectly fine to have random moments of irrationality sometimes; it happens to even the best of us. Personally, I never did drop my obsession with alien life entirely, except for what was required to become an effective instructor. People've told me since I was little that one day I'd have to put the toys down and pick up a book; that one day I'd have to put the books down and pick up a job; that one day I'd have to put down my job and seek that which was truly important to me. It's a sad fact of life, James, but not every little bit of imagination can be used..."
Mr. Trace gestures toward all of the items placed in various locations in his classroom, a smile across his face.
"...nor does it all go to waste."
James takes his respective look around the classroom, noting the things he hadn't before.
"What's that supposed to mean, Mr. Trace? I've obviously abused my imagination to step ten thousand miles out of my comfort zone into Mrs. Botsky's job, your job, and likely the list of potential school-shooters. Major apologies are in order, Mr. Trace, and they're due ASAP."
"Now what's that supposed to mean, James? I know you, and I know you would not get that sorrowful over this. Your imagination in this situation wasn't wasted or abused, only misplaced. You temporarily lost sight of reality for a brief moment, and for that brief moment, you experienced a feeling of newfound determination and drive to achieve, something I personally commend you for. You'll mature as a result of this, and one day, you may look back on this day and say "Hey, maybe temporarily losing my mind actually led to me having a better life." Whaddaya say?"
James simply wipes his eyes in a casual manner and proceeds to walk towards Mr. Trace, his arm extended.
"I'd say that's quite the prediction, and that, for my sake, it comes true. TTYL, Mr. Trace."
"Heh. See ya later, James."
The two shake hands firmly and give a one-armed "bro pat" before James grabs his stuff and exits the room, a noticeable energy in his footsteps. Mr. Trace simply chuckles a bit and sits at his desk to begin typing away at his school-assigned laptop. Roughly five minutes of this passes before a girl wearing a red dress shirt and peppermint-striped tie walks into the room, unbeknownst to Mr. Trace. As she walks over to the table with the backpack on it, Mr. Trace takes a glance up from his computer to address the young lady.
"Excuse me, do you know whose bag that is?"
"...Uhm...It's mine. Or, at least, it's got my hoodie in it."
"Oh, that yellow one?"
"Y-Yeah. That one."
"Oh, alright, then. Grab your hoodie, then."
"This is not all I came for."
"It's not? Well, then, what else did you want? Tutoring? A book? I could help you do a research paper if-"
The girl just shakes her head repeatedly, her red hair swaying back and forth. She then just looks intently at Mr. Trace and replies
"No. It's nothing. Nothing you can help with, anyway."
Mr. Trace, not one to accept a pitiful rejection like that, immediately snaps back into counselor mode.
"Well, now, miss! There's not much in the world I can think of that I can't help with! What's the issue? I'm sure I can help you somehow."
"Can you...can you keep a secret?"
"Why, of cour-"
The girl cuts in sharply:
"No. I mean really keep a secret."
"Of course. What is it?"
The girl meekly approaches Mr. Trace's desk and whispers something into his ear. He is evidently straining to keep himself from responding to what he hears, but in the end, he just accepts it and retains his composure. This continues for a while until the girl backs away and stares at Mr. Trace again.
"...Do you understand, sir? Not a word to anybody. Even acting on it yourself is dangerous."
"I get that, but why are you telling me if I'm to be expected not to act on it?"
"Because you're the one ray of light this school has. That boy is just an ember, and must be fueled before he is extinguished. You can be the determining factor in that, but only if you're willing to suffocate in regret or drown in confliction."
"Now that you're telling me this...I don't know whether to call the police, or-"
"Do whatever you feel is necessary, and do not let my words limit you if they need not to. However, do be advised that if you take no action, our ember will be no more. Will you be the fuel, or will you be the extinguisher?"
"I honestly don't know, young lady. I don't know."
"And not knowing is perfectly human. The bucket is on its way, and it won't stop for the world. It's up to you who the bucket splashes onto. Goodbye for now, sir."
Mr. Trace puts his hands on his face and sighs deeply as the girl grabs her hoodie and leaves, closing the door and turning out the lights on her way out. Mr. Trace's hand moves towards the phone, but just before he picks it up, he hears sirens blaring outside his window. He snaps out of his haze and stands quickly, bumping a paper off of his desk.
"James?!"
Screams can be heard coming from outside, and Mr. Trace stands awestruck staring at the door. A tear streaks down his face as he dashes to his door and, throwing it open, runs out of his dark classroom, leaving the door wide open. About seven minutes pass before the girl from earlier walks back into the room slowly, stopping in the middle of the camera's frame.
"Time of death: 3:38. Cause of death: Multiple lacerations to the heart and lungs."
END TRANSCRIPT
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Canary word: Present
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Original Text:
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125,005 Literary Works • 672,805 Reviews
You have a very unique, laid-back style of narration, and it'll definitely be interesting to see just who that woman is. Overall, I find your plot to be intriguing, it appears to be well-thought out, and organized in the sense that you know the direction the story is headed and how to get there. The problem with it is, it's rather hard to follow along as a reader.
Here is why. You dedicate this paragraph to describing the two characters, and the conversation between James and Mr. Trace completely lacks dialogue tags. Without dialogue tags, it's very hard to tell who is saying what. This would be problematic by itself, but when the two characters are playfully changing the way they speak to another, that just adds another headache, because the reader struggles finding out the real personalities of the characters.
So the solution is actually easy, I would cut out the second paragraph completely. Have James explain to Mr. Trace why he is there in the actual dialogue, rather than having the narrator explain it. Use dialogue tags to tell us who is saying what. ALSO: Give more description to the young lady. She is obviously very important to the plot, but she comes in so fast, it's almost too fast to make sense out of. I want to know more of what she looks like, what she sounds like, her mannerisms, etc.
Also, I'm not so sure how this line would be heard over the recording, unless the lady who killed James is a medic or something. But then again, maybe she is.
That's about it. Definitely a cool start to what could be a really promising story, I just hope the next part a bit cleaner to follow. Thank you for sharing
Heya, SacredPen! Casanova here to do a review for you!
Anyway, let's get this going. The first thing I have to say about this is the narration. It's a bit odd in places. Here's an example-
Besides being rushed, I think that this is just a bit odd to read. I would suggest either rewording or rephrasing, but that could just be me. Anyway, onward.
Characters
I think that you have pretty well thought out characters. Their emotions are there, and I think they do a well enough job(besides what Niteowl stated below) on executing them. One thing I didn't like was the way they acted, I guess? Like, their actions seemed kinda robotic instead of unpredictable like normal humans, but I've come to expect that from short stories and novel chapters. Anyway, onward.
Plot
I think you have a strong enough plot, and it really does leave off as a suspenseful end, so props or that. I love stories that keep me on the edge of my seat. The only problem I have with it, surprisingly enough, is the ending. I felt like you could have added more to it than you did, but I guess that's what you get for having a good ending xD. Anyway, onward.
Overall I think you just have some character problems along with some phrasing issues messing up your characters actions. I would suggest fixing those, but you're the author. Strong plot idea and good character construction, so props for that.
Anyway, I think that's all I have on this one, and I hope it helped.
Keep on doing what you're doing and keep on keeping on.
Sincerely, Matthew Casanova Aaron
Hi there, SacredPen! Niteowl here to review this story.
Overall, this is very interesting. I'm left with a lot of questions, namely who died at the end. I'm not saying that needs to be answered explicitly, but I'm also confused about a lot of points in the conversation between James and Mr. Trace that could help make this whole story clearer.
There's a ton of changes in tone during the conversation. At points, it seems weirdly friendly for a teacher and student, but then at other points it seems like a more standard relationship or that there's an active dislike between the two. It's also really unclear where James' thoughts about "extra species" comes from.
This statement seems kind of odd to me. It implies that James just realized he was being watched and could face consequences for "abusing his imagination". But Mr. Trace obviously knows there's a camera, and he's been pretty open about his alien beliefs. Why hasn't anyone gone after him? Also, who is Mrs. Botsky?
This is one of the lines that made me feel like this relationship was weirdly familiar for teacher and student.
Okay, so after some serious re-reading, I think it's James who died because of this belief. However, it's still unclear what happened with Mr. Trace. There was just this whole conversation implying that he was supposed to do something with or to James, but then he's killed without Mr. Trace doing anything but running off?
Overall, this story has some interesting twists, but I'm left wondering about a lot of things in the end. Keep writing!
Hey there! Thanks for the review, but I noticed you had some questions.
This is Tuesday Afternoon, and there were two parts prior to this - Monday and Tuesday Morning. They explain your plot concerns.
As for the teacher-student relationship, James isn't skilled in social interaction as much as he wishes he was, so he just speaks as if to move on to the next sentence as soon as possible. Their interactions are based off of the ones I have with my AP teacher in real life - formal conversation with regard for status and honorifics, but casual in that they know and trust each other.
As I said before, thanks for the review (it was getting kinda lonely here), and be sure to check out the two predecessors (I hate spelling that word...) to answer your questions! Have a nice day!