Published January 23, 2013
‘Calm yourself, Harold,’ I say to myself and my heart splatters into fragments of dust; the type of dust that scorches on the surface of your skin when it wants to because it can. ‘Shh,’ my own voice coaches and I almost die from peculiarity; how odd I have become, even to my own self. My eyes meet a pair of wet, lashed sapphire as I choose to twist the wreck I refer to as my body to face the back, and my heart scatters into pieces.
“He’s gone.” he says to me. The familiarity of his tone creeps through my veins and everything at that specific moment, stops. Pauses. Just like that. I feel sick to my stomach as I scan the boy’s expression. His eyes flash with resentment and I cuss the world underneath my breath. With Sir Death hanging by my side, I would become as lifeless as a casket and what it’s made for. And it’d be right for me to die. Because now that he’s—
“Tristan is gone,” his voice occupies the room and the air becomes thick, thick and raw like it wants you to breathe it for the sake of watching you writhe.
“Shut up,” I whisper and he’s almost too buzzed to hear.
“He’s dead,” Nicholas growls this time and the agony seems to be doing a marvelous job sucking on his soul.
Regardless, though. I take a few piercing moments and wait for the world to end: mine at least. Because it has to. But it doesn’t.
“Shut up, Nicholas.” I lay my words down for him, concealed with choke yet a tad comprehensible so that he’d understand and break the torment that has already caused twice (if not thrice) the damage.
“What?”
“I said shut up,” the Earth shakes and I find it hard to breathe.
“Shut up?! He’s goddamn gone, Harry, and you want me to shut up?! I swear on my life, you’re a fucking basta—“
Of course, I interrupt, “Nicholas, please.” A cold fear grips me, my bones jitter, and my heart leaps to my throat. “Don’t you turn this on me now,” I implore and my eyes prickle with mourn. “Don’t you dare because I already know I deserve hell.”
He runs his fingers through the dampness of my curls and I retreat into his touch. Nicholas knows what to do. He always knows what to do.
“I’m sorry, it’s not your fault.” he manages yet all I hear is the sound of my breath as it stumbles upon clumps of oxygen and blocks my windpipe. “You’re not to blame.”
My eyes, bloody emerald, look up into his. I was hungry for an answer; hungry for blame, “I killed him,”
“No.”
“Nick, I killed Tristan.”
“Harry, you did not kill Tristan.”
My right hand tingles, “yes I did.”
Tick. The razor is out.
Tock. It is poached into Nicholas’s heart.
“Yes I did.”
I smirk and lick scarlet off of my fingers.
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139,661 Literary Works • 672,645 Reviews
Hi anonymou5
Just a note before I begin! Why not take a look around the site and see if you can find any other authors in need of a review! I'm sure they'd appreciate it and it's the fastest way to make friends!
So...review time.
Mostly I enjoyed this. Your description is very nice...sometimes it tended towards the more flowery side but not too much to make me bored or annoyed. I enjoyed how you unfurled the death on us a bit at a time. Revealing more to us as the pain took over Harry.
Just a couple of things I wanted to point out. I'm still not sure if Harry is a guy or a girl. To begin with I thought a girl because of some of the word choices and generaly how they think but then you said Harry and I was like 'Oh...a guy.' Then you talked about Harry in Nicholas' arms and I was like 'Girl?' So I think you need to clear that up a little.
Second point is the ending. It's confusing. I read it over a couple of times before I realised that Harry had killed Nicholas. I think part of the problem is the use of the word 'poached' when you describe the razor going in. Poached to me reminds me of eggs...being poached is being cooked. So it seems like the wrong word choice and it threw me off a little. I also thought the use of Tick Tock was a little weird and out of place. Nowhere before had you used this or mentioned time (I think) so it just seemed a little random and off putting that you would use it now. And lastly it was a bit too quick. A quick change and then a quick ending. Like you were too eager to wrap it up. I'd lengthen it a little. Let it sink in a smidge before you end.
Anywho! Hope that helped. PM me if you have any questions
Bex x
I thought this had good imagery, vocabulary, emotion and depth.
Although I did feel that you pushed the adverbs a little too hard and at times they didn't fit well, creating a blur of what you really wanted to say/picture you wanted to paint.
Also I think instances like;
-when it wants to because it can
-lifeless as a casket and what it was made for
were too drawn out and therefor lost their punctuality
I would advise trying to tighten up your sentences
In all I think it had a very real air to it and has a nice feeling of drama.
And the twist at the end was nice, everybody loves a twist
Heey there!
It's this one: "His eyes flash with resentment…"
I was really excited to read some good horror today, and I was indeed satisfied.
First off, the first sentence is simply amazing. I love the metaphors you used, they were vivid and unusual, but they work - and that's the main thing. Heey there!
I was really excited to read some good horror today, and I was indeed satisfied.
First off, the first sentence is simply amazing. I love the metaphors you used, they were vivid and unusual, but they work - and that's the main thing. One thing that really jumped at me was the "almost died from" - even though the previous metaphor was great, these words are a little "too much". Ironically, it seems odd that you put "die" in there.
The last sentence of the first paragraph needs work. Firstly, you need to split it into two, it runs on and it's confusing. Also, what do you mean - "meet sapphire?"' Sapphire what? The stone?
The last part of the sentence works well though. Even though a heart cannot be gutless since it doesn't have guts in the first place:D I suggest you delete that bit or replace with something like "my heart sank" or something.
When you say "my stomach feels sick" - once again, it is the character that feels sick, not the stomach. Try: "I feel sick to my stomach", or something along those lines.
Once again you have a long, confusing run-on sentence, I had to read it over and over to understand, but I still don't
The description of the air is brilliant. Once again you've impressed me with a wondrous metaphor. Great!
Also, just a little note - if someone just killed someone, I think one would call the murderer something much more offensive than a "twat"! Just the dash like this "fuckin--" would suffice, I think.
Wow, the ending is gripping, and totally goosebump-worthy. It really creeped me out for a while. I'm not sure why you put accent on the "is", but it works nonetheless.
Overall, great story, great metaphors and descriptions. I've been in the character's mind and it is insane. Love it. You really made Harry insane and yet so human and emotional at the same time, and that is amazing. Only a couple of things need fixing, such as the run-on sentences, otherwise it is a stunning piece!
Keep up the great work and I hope I helped!
~polinka