Angels and Vampires: Part 1

I would just like to thank everybody for the amount of help I got on EVERY part of Angels and Vampires so far!!!!! Its been so helpful, and its you guys that has made it the amazing story it is today x

Forgotten x

Hello, again, forgottenfallen
I like your changes, and how you explained the angels' name, Lexus. I think you did a very good job with the first one, but an even better job with the edited version. Thanks for the PM!
maegardens

Hey again. I'm here to give you a new review, since you changed it around and asked for one. Okay, after reading through yet again, here are just a few things in a style I like:

You ever wanted something so much, but it was so far out of your reach that you lost hope? Maybe it was beautiful, stunning, or maybe it was just mundane. I want a lot that I can't have, but it wouldn't take much for me to have it.

My name? Lexus. It means ‘faith and law’ in my language back home. (so totally love how you added the definition in a short, simple, easy to understand/remember way, that also hits home with the irony and significance! Well done!) As soon as I was born I was destined to be alone, or at least in some ways. Never to be married, liked, loved or a part of a friendship even have friends. Yet it didn’t scare me. People like me liked often preferred to be alone, no matter what we were feeling. Happy or sad, that's just how we were. Solitary beings. Be alone in their feelings and sorrow. Well, not always sorrow. Sometimes happiness, for other people at least.

Torn. My last name. Pain, (either a semicolon or a period would be better here) I have felt pain before,. It’s written in my name and in the stars that I am one to feel it. ('that I am one to feel it' doesn't sound right. Maybe try, 'It's written in my name and on the stars, pain was to always be lurking around every corner' I dunno, just a thought, but what you have right now does not make sense.) But the stars were my sisters, as well as the messengers of the sky. I was among them, or at least I used to be. I had fallen and fallen, never to be picked back up again. The forgotten fallen. It Pain means nothing anymore; it’s just a fancy phrase for ‘broken heart’.’ I wasn’t broken hearted in that a (that would only work if you put it sort of like 'It was the broken hearted feeling you get after a divorce...'sense, like after a divorce, or the fall through of a relationship that you thought would last forever.; I was torn in the way that I had never felt love, never felt a beating heart close to mine. This made me want. It became a longing at the night, when I sat with my weary head against the wet grass watching the stars pulsate with a wonderful light. It was enough to drive a human insane, enough to drive an immortal to wonder, and make them strive for something they knew they couldn’t have. But why did it have to be so harsh in my head?! (Pick one punctuation mark or the other. Both only works in dialogue and thoughts, but even then only sometimes. It's a tricky bridge to cross, but once you get the hang of it, it becomes a walk in the park ) I understood how lone humans longed for company; it was the environment they had grown up in. But how could you long for something when you didn’t have the faintest idea of how it would feel?The stars were my sisters, the moon my parent. I was among them, or at least I used to be. I had fallen and fallen, never to be picked back up again. The forgotten fallen.

Lexus Torn. My name. It was a name with a lot of meaning. My name,; it was a waste on a man like me. What was the point in a useless person having a beautiful name like Lexus? I didn’t feel like a boy really, I was a lot more than that. Boy was a stupid human word. (Haha, I like that sentence! ) My hair was long, sleek, and black, hanging in loose curls around my shoulders. I washed it in the pools of water by the sides of roads in the dead of night, the entirety of it in tangles as I didn’t have a brush to my name. This did not trouble me. I find this part not really necessary, nor does it really add anything to the paragraph. Scars laced my arms, not from self harm, but from the harm of the cruel outside world. I was happy to be alive; it was a privilege that some of the only grateful humans lost. There wasn’t weren't that many humans that deserved to live, they lived their lives totally oblivious to the world around them. It was painful for me to even watch. Highly painful. Unlike them, I would live my life in the way that would benefit others the most. I think a new paragraph might be good here, because this paragraph starts feeling a little chunky.

Sometimes I got taken in by some people, noticing my young age and taking pity. Others looked at me, and I knew what they were thinking: he wasted his life on alcohol, drugs, and gambling. But I have done the complete opposite. I used to sit in gutters with young girls who were so drunk they didn’t know their own names, holding their hair out of their faces as they threw up, and listening to them as they cried. Some people just wanted someone there, but didn’t want any words out of my mouth. I respected that too. Of course I hid myself my true self from all, my wings tucked under my trench coat so tightly that no-one else could tell. (you missed a space between the end of that sentence and the beginning of this one.) But I always made sure that they saw as much of me as was safe, my personality and some of my story. Some people just wanted someone there, but didn’t want any words out of my mouth. I respected that too.

Memories came to me often, little flashbacks that haunted my head me, reminding me of how beautiful my life used to be. Oh, howI would love wanted so badly to be back there.

“Lexy! Come here my beautiful. Are you working hard? You know how much your mother had to beg to get you into such a good education. Honey, why don’t you go to the meadow? It’s a spectacle of a lovely (or beautiful, or any such thing. Most people don't use spectacle when talking about a day. ) day. I shall see you tomorrow!”

My wonderful aunt, always hoping that her nephew would go places. And he did, somewhere where he wouldn’t be found by anyone that loved him every again. But of course, when I had got gone to the meadow, I wasn’t alone.

“Lexyyyy! Can you play with me? Look at all the ash on the ground! We can playmake forts and throw ash-balls at each other! It’s going to be amazing.”

Sleep didn’t come often to me; mostly because I made had such depressing thoughts that they kept me up. (You seem rather determined not to give up this incorrect use of made. Several people have said it doesn't make sense, myself included. Had would be a much better word! I still stand by what I said the first time I reviewed this piece: [you could] try something like "mostly because my thoughts were so depressing, I often stayed awake just to avoid them" or something like that. Whatever you choose, Get Rid Of 'made'!) And now I was weary because of it. Once someone told me that someone was out there for me, no matter how powerful or weak, rich or poor they were. I didn’t believe an ounce of it. That could not be the truth for such a worthless being as me. Angels were born to serve others, we weren’t meant to be worth anything to the people we helped. We were just their servants that waited on theirthem hand and foot, no without any strings attached. There were other creatures in the night, but not many like me. Hardly any, so little in number that I hadn’t actually come across another being like me. But at least I hoped. (for what? that he'd come across more beings in the night? might add a tiny bit of info on the end of that sentence) Hope. This emotion reminded me of a night a few years ago, a long time ago. The first night of my worthless existence.

It was a night in 1993, a surprisingly quiet night one at that. The moon was shrouded from sight in the sky by many other beautiful constellations and places humans hadn’t even discovered yet. To this date I was only 16 years of age; this was the night I was physically born. (I don't like this very much. If he was 16, he's already BEEN physically born. Maybe, it was the night he first saw life from the humans' perspective or something. Also, spell out numbers! Sixteen not 16.) Of course, I had been alive for 16 human years before that, but I had never actually been physically alive, physically there. This was the night I was first there. (You do sort out the problem I previously had, but I still don't like 'physically born'. Perhaps you could move 'physically there' in place of 'physically born' and that might make more sense. I dunno, just an idea) I had lived in the stars for many, many of our centuries, because our time passed a lot faster there was much different than the time on Earth. All my time was spent (repetition of time, not good! Try) Before Earth, I spent my years learning from my elders and forefathers, becoming greatly intelligent. I was respected. NEW PARAGRAPH

One night, for the first time in a few months, I ventured out on my own to watch the sky below. This was a privilege, only the highers and elders got opportunities like this. I ran as fast as I could to the edge of my home, falling onto my knees and bending over the side eagerly. A smile was imprinted across my thin lips. The sky sparkled, with such beauty and wonder that I was mystified. The black sky told me words of wisdom and enlightened me so much it nearly hurt, but the exhilaration out-weighed that. Every time a star imploded and turned to a burning supernova, ash fell onto my beautiful planet. It looked like what humans now called snow. At least this didn’t turn to accident-making slush like on Earth; it just laced the plants for a few weeks afterwards. The sky sparkled, with such beauty and wonder that I was mystified. The black sky told words of wisdom and enlightened me so much it nearly hurt, but the exhilaration out-weighed that. Some stars were bigger than the others, some smaller, and one of the stars was so close you I (avoid 2nd person speech whenever possible!) could see the intricate patterns of the burning blue centre. My body hung further and further over the edge, (either a period or semicolon would be best) I wasn’t thinking. A brush of wind pushed me over, building power until it whipped against my back. (This particular sentence, I don't like. It might make more sense if written like) A heavy wing buffeted my back, building power until it whipped against me, sending me falling over the edge. I couldn't spread my wings. I was ptrified. It all went black then, and I woke up a long time later in a pile of ash. My wings were crushed under my back, my night black hair strewn across my face. I had got (either make it 'had gotten' or just 'got') to my knees, shaking the light stardust off my body. I tried to pick it back off the ground, succeeding with a few grains, only to watch them dissolve into the mortal air, my tears staining them as they did. Turning hysterical, I had vowed that I would never do anything for myself again. I just couldn’t take that risk.

What a stupid angel.

Hey FF! Stella here, as promised!

I. NITPICKS

I want a lot that I can't have, but it wouldn't take much for me to have it.

destined to be alone or at least in some way.

The stars were my sisters, the moon my parent. I was among them, or at least I used to be.

I didn’t feel like a boy really, I was a lot more than that.

My hair was long, sleek, and black, hanging in loose curls around my shoulders.

I washed it in the pools of water by the sides of roads in the dead of night, the entirety of it in tangles as I didn’t have a brush to my name.

under my trench coat so tightly that no-one else could tell.

This was a privilege, only the highers and elders got opportunities like this.

The black sky told words of wisdom

I like it ok there's been tons of reviews before me so i'm guessing if there were any grammar errors then they'd have been mentioned, so that's my excuse for avoiding that hahah.

Well i like how you get his loneliness across so well, and i love how you make him feel non-human from the way he thinks as well as talking about wings and stuff. So few people manage to do that (i probably couldn't) so well done

The only criticisms that i would have are that the character does feel, as one of the reviewers pointed out, very feminine at the start. I also found the last paragraph hard to understand and had to read it a couple of times to get the jist of it, but that's probably just me

This isn't really a criticism and you probably do anyway but make sure you get some action in soon after this, to avoid getting the reader bogged down in thoughts.

Overall its very well written though: flows well, information is revealed well and the reader is drawn in.

Now put the next part up

Baboon

Hello, forgottenfallen, I saw some small errors in your work and decided to edit them so they fit better. You can choose not to use my editted text, you might even find fault with it. If you do then go a head a say so. Here we go then.

You ever wanted something so much, but it was so far out of your reach that you lost hope? Maybe it was beautiful, stunning, or maybe it was just mundane. I want a lot that I can't have, but it wouldn't take much for me to have it.

Lexus. My first name. Never a good place to start, out of order, not to fit in. (Okay, this needs changing desperately... perhaps you should start off with ‘My name? It’s Lexus, Lexus Torn. Just like my heart.) As soon as I was born I was destined to be alone or at least in some way. Never to be married, liked, loved or a part of a friendship. Yet it didn’t scare me. People like me liked to be alone. Be alone in their feelings and sorrow. Well, not always sorrow. Sometimes happiness, for other people at least.

Torn. My last name. A word of pain, grief and loss, a more sophisticated way of explaining the phrase ’broken heart’. (This won’t be needed if you use the sentence I told you but if you decide not to here is what I’d suggest, ‘Pain, I have felt pain before, it’s written in my name and in the stars that I am one to feel it. It means nothing anymore; it’s just a fancy phrase for ‘broken heart’.’) I wasn’t broken hearted in that sense, like after a divorce or the fall through of a relationship that you thought would last forever. I was torn in the way that I had never felt love, never felt a beating heart close to mine. This made me want. It became a longing at the night, when I sat with my weary head against the wet grass watching the stars pulsate with a wonderful light. Enough to drive a human insane, enough to drive an immortal to wonder, make them strive for something they knew they couldn’t have. But why did it have to be so harsh in my head?! (Is it grammatically correct to have both an exclamation mark and a question mark?) I understood how lone humans longed for company; it was the environment they had grown up in. But how could you long for something when you didn’t have the faintest idea of how it would feel? The stars were my sisters, the moon my parent. I was among them, or at least I used to be. I had fallen and fallen, never to be picked back up again. The forgotten fallen.

Lexus Torn. My name. It was a name that had a lot of meaning, but that was a complete waste on a person like me. (Here, try it this way, ‘Lexus Torn. It was a name with a lot of meaning. My name, it was a waste on a man like me.’) What was the point in a useless person having a beautiful name like Lexus? I didn’t feel like a boy really, I was a lot more than that. Boy was a stupid human word. My hair was long, sleek, and black, hanging in loose curls around my shoulders. I washed it in the pools of water by the sides of roads in the dead of night, the entirety of it in tangles as I didn’t have a brush to my name. This did not trouble me. Scars laced my arms, not from self harm, but from the harm of the cruel outside world. I was happy to be alive; it was a privilege that some of the only grateful humans lost. There wasn’t that many humans that deserved to live, they lived their lives totally oblivious to the world around them. It was painful for me to even watch. Highly painful. Unlike them, I would live my life in the way that would benefit others the most. Sometimes I got taken in by some people, noticing my young age and taking pity. Other looked at me, and I knew what they were thinking: wasted his life on alcohol, drugs, gambling. But I have done the complete opposite. I used to sit in gutters with young girls who were so drunk they didn’t know their own names, holding their hair out of their faces as they threw up, listening to them as they cried. Of course I hid myself, my wings tucked under my trench coat so tightly that no-one else could tell. But I always made sure that they saw as much of me as was safe, my personality and my story. Some people just wanted someone there, but didn’t want any words out of my mouth. I respected that too.

Memories came to me often, little flashbacks that haunted my head, reminding me of how beautiful my life used to be. Oh, how I would love to be back there.

“Lexy! Come here my beautiful. Are you working hard? You know how much your mother had to beg to get you into such a good education. Honey, why don’t you go to the meadow? It’s a spectacle of a day. I shall see you tomorrow!”

My wonderful aunt, always hoping that her nephew would go places. And he did, somewhere where he wouldn’t be found by anyone that loved him every again. But of course, when I had got to the meadow, I wasn’t alone.

“Lexyyyy! Can you play with me? Look at all the ash on the ground! We can play forts and throw ash-balls at each other! It’s going to be amazing.” (I had to put the memories in bold, sorry, it just looks so much better to me. It shoes the significance of these sentences.)

Sleep didn’t come often to me; mostly because I made such depressing thoughts that they kept me up. I was weary. Once someone told me that someone was out there for me, no matter how powerful or weak, rich or poor. I didn’t believe an ounce of it. That could not be the truth for such a worthless being as me. Angels were born to serve others, we weren’t meant to be worth anything to the people we helped. We were just their servants that waited on their hand and foot without any strings attached. There were other creatures in the night, but not many like me. Hardly any, so little in number that I hadn’t actually come across another being like me. But at least I hoped. Hope. This emotion reminded me of a night a few years ago, a long time ago. The first night of my worthless existence.

It was a night in 1993, a surprisingly quiet night. The moon was shrouded from sight in the sky by many other beautiful constellations and places humans hadn’t even discovered yet. To this date I was only 16 years of age; this was the night I was physically born. Of course, I had been alive for 16 human years before that, but I had never actually been physically alive, physically there. This was the night I was first there. I had lived in the stars for many, many of our centuries, because our time passed a lot faster. All my time was spent learning from my elders and forefathers, becoming greatly intelligent. I was respected. One night, for the first time in a few months, I ventured out on my own to watch the sky below. This was a privilege, only the highers and elders got opportunities like this. I ran as fast as I could to the edge of my home, falling onto my knees and bending over the side eagerly. A smile was imprinted across my thin lips. Every time a star imploded and turned to a burning supernova, ash fell onto my beautiful planet. It looked like what humans now called snow. At least this didn’t turn to accident making slush like on Earth; it just laced the plants for a few weeks afterwards. The sky sparkled, with such beauty and wonder that I was mystified. The black sky told words of wisdom and enlightened me so much it nearly hurt, but the exhilaration out-weighed that. Some stars were bigger than the others, some smaller, and one of the stars was so close you could see the intricate patterns of the burning blue centre. My body hung further and further over the edge, I wasn’t thinking. A brush of wind pushed me over, building power until it whipped against my back. It all went black then, and I woke up a long time later in a pile of ash. My wings were crushed under my back, my night black hair strewn across my face. I had got to my knees, shaking the light stardust off my body. I tried to pick it back off the ground, succeeding with a few grains, only to watch them dissolve into the mortal air, my tears staining them as they did. Turning hysterical, I had vowed that I would never do anything for myself again. I just couldn’t take that risk.


What a stupid angel.

Forgotten, here is your review as requested!

You wanted a harsh reivew so first of all. The massive info dump at the beginning of the piece is a little tired, and to be honest with you, it bored me...

Lexus. My first name. Never a good place to start...

Never to be married, loved, be part of a friendship, or at least be liked.

Be alone in their feelings and sorrow. Well, not always sorrow. Sometimes happiness, for other people at least.
Torn. My last name. A word of sorrow, a more sophisticated way of explaining the phrase ’broken heart’.

Lexus Torn. My name. It was a meaningful yet meaningless name, which meant my name had a ton of meaning but really with no point.

It was a night in 1993, a dark one.

The moon wasn’t visible in the sky, the winter night holding mist in the air.

It all went black then, and I woke up a few days later in a pile of ash.

I can't help but keep thinking he's a girl... Maybe it's the name?
Still, lovely piece of writing you have here. I definitely will be continuing to read your story.
It's a shock that you're only twelve though! I wish I could have written this well at that age...
Haha, good job and keep up the good work!

Forgottenfallen! Here's my review as requested! Wonderful start here, but a few little things jumped out at me.

1) It appears basically everyone has reported that they feel the MC is a girl. I blame the "e" on the end of the name. To me, although this sounds stupid, "Lexine" rhymes with "Maxine" which is a girl's name. So even before I moved onto the following word, I already had an assumption that your MC was a girl. If you like the name and don't want to change it completely, you could get rid of this assumption by removing the "e" - "Lexin" already feels more like a guy's name for me now (and you can still have Lexy for later on! ). But that's just my opinion on the matter.

2) As for nitpicks in the text:

Never a good place to start, out of order, not to fit in.

Torn. A word of sorrow, a more sophisticated way of explaining the phrase ’broken heart’.

It became a longing at the night,

when I sat with my weary head against the wet grass watching the beautiful stars pulsate with a wonderful light.

But why did it have to be so harsh in my head?!

But how could you long for something when you didn’t have the faintest idea of how it would feel?

Boy was a stupid human word. My hair was long, sleek, and black,

I was happy to be alive; it was a privilege that some of the only grateful humans lost.

Sometimes I got taken in by some people, noticing my young age and taking pity.

mostly because I made such depressing thoughts that they kept me up.

Once someone told me that someone was out there for me, no matter how powerful or weak, rich or poor.

It was a night in 1993,

It sparkled, with such beauty and wonder that I was mystified.

my night black hair strewn

Hey there! I'm here to review your story as you requested. And I am brutal, so be prepared.

forgottenfallen wrote:Lexine. Never a good place to start, out of order, not to fit in. This sentence feels a little disjointed. It's rather confusing, especially since you're starting the whole story with it. I think the concept of what you're trying to say is good; it's just the way you put it. Fitting in was something I wasn’t good at; people of my kind were never good at fitting in, ever. Torn. I think you'd need a new paragraph here, at "Torn." A word of sorrow, a more sophisticated way of explaining the phrase ’broken heart’. I wasn’t broken hearted in that sense, like after a divorce or the fall through of a relationship that you thought would last forever. I was torn in the way that I had never felt love, never felt a beating heart close to mine. This made me grieve. It became a longing at the night, when I sat with my weary head against the wet grass watching the beautiful stars pulsate with a wonderful light. This is beautiful, don't change a word! Enough to drive a human insane, enough to drive an immortal to wonder, make them strive to something they knew they couldn’t have. "Strive to something" - I think "strive for something" sounds better here. But why did it have to be so harsh in my head?! Generally, I don't think you use this type of emphatic punctuation. A single question mark should suffice. I understood how lone humans longed for company; they had grown up in company. Two uses of the word "company" in the same sentence is repetitive. But how could you long for something when you didn’t have the faintest idea of how it would feel? The stars were my sisters, the moon my parenthood. "Parenthood" is more of a word you'd use for something like a time period. "Parents" will work just fine. I was among them, or at least I used to be. I had fallen and fallen, never to be picked back up again. The forgotten fallen. Lexine Torn. Another paragraph with Lexine Torn. Notice how you'd have the paragraph starting with Lexine, and the explanation for that, and then another paragraph starting with Torn, and then this new paragraph that combined the two. It'd make it much easier to read. It was a meaningful yet meaningless name, not even really correct for a boy. I know this has been said before, but I did honestly think it was a girl talking, because of the name. I didn’t feel like a boy really, I was a lot more than that. Boy was a stupid human word. My hair was long, sleek, and black, it "hanging" or some word like that makes sense. in loose curls around my shoulders. I washed it in the pools of water by the sides of roads in the dead of night, the entirety of it in tangles as I didn’t have a brush to my name. This did not trouble me. Scars laced my arms, not from self harm, but from the harm of the cruel outside world. I was happy to be alive,semicolon it was a privilege that some of the only grateful humans lost. Soldiers from war. Never was so much owed by so many to so few, I thought to myself. I would never take my own life,semicolon what a selfish deed to perform. I would live my life in the way that would benefit others the most. Sometimes I got taken in by some people, noticing my young age and taking pity. Other looked at me, and I knew what they were thinking. Wasted his life on alcohol, drugs, gambling. 'Kay, since this sentence is a thought, I think you'd need to end the prior sentence, "I knew what they were thinking" with a colon, like so "...I knew what they were thinking: Wasted his life on alcohol..." etc. But I have done the complete opposite. New paragraph. I used to sit in gutters with young girls intoxicated the whole way through This sounds really awkward. "Sit in gutters with young girls who were intoxicated." or something would make it sound less like it's Lexine who's intoxicated (even though we know he's not)., holding their hair out of their faces as they threw up, listening to them as they cried. Some people just wanted someone there, but didn’t want any words out of their you need to specify who "their" is, because it could sound like the people who are in need of comfort are the ones who don't want any words coming out of their mouths, instead of them not wanting and words from the person who's comforting them. I hope that makes sense. mouths. I respected that too. New paragraph. Sleep didn’t come often to me; mostly because I made such depressing thoughts that they kept me up. I was weary. Once someone told me that someone was out there for me, no matter how powerful or weak, rich or poor. I didn’t believe an ounce of it. That could not be the truth for such a ruthless, worthless being as me. There were other creatures in the night, but not many like me. This reminded me of a night a few years ago, a long time ago. The first night of my worthless existence. So far he's sounding kind of emoish. I'm not sure if that's the image you're wanting to go for, but, aside from the part where he said he didn't self-inflict pain, I'm picturing an emo kid.
It was a night in 1993, a dark one. The moon wasn’t visible in the sky, the winter night holding mist in the air. To this date I was only 16 years of age,semicolon this was the night I was physically born. I had lived in the stars for many many centuries, learning from my elders and forefathers, becoming greatly intelligent. I was respected. One night, for the first time in a few months, I ventured out of do you mean "on"? my own to watch the sky below. This was a privilege,semicolon only the highers and elders got opportunities like this. I ran as fast as I could to the edge, edge of what? falling onto my knees and bending over the side eagerly. A smile was imprinted across my thin lips. It sparkled, with such beauty and wonder that I was mystified. Are you talking about the smile or the sky? My body hung further and further over the edge,semicolon I wasn’t thinking. A brush of wind pushed me over, building power until it whipped against my back. It all went black then, and I woke up a few days later in a pool of ash. "Pool" gives the impression of it being a liquid substance he's in; "pile" or "heap" would work better, even though it doesn't sound as nice. My wings were crushed under my back, my night black hair strewn across my glittering face. I don't know if you need glittering here. He sounds a little bit too egotistical about his appearance, even though I don't think that's how you're wanting him to sound. I had gotten to my knees, shaking the light stardust off my body. I tried to pick it back off the ground, succeeding with a few grains, only to watch them dissolve into the mortal air, my tears staining them as they did. Turning hysterical, I had vowed that I would never do anything for myself again. I just couldn’t take that risk.

What a stupid angel. I like this ending; we finally get confirmation of what Lexine is.

Wow, that story hits a bit close to home. I can sort of relate to Lexine. He likes helping people but no one cares about him. Sounds like me and the town that I live in. I will point one thing out though, Why exactly did he fall? Is he an angel in a biblical sense? Which would make him a rebelling angel. Or is a completely original concept that you thought up? If it's the latter I applaud you, just be sure and clarify it though.
I can see that Lexine is supposed to be a truly depressed angel, perhaps you should make that show a bit more. And about his wings, does he hide them when he talks to drunk girls by gutters? Are they completely invisible to mortals? Or does he present himself the way he is? Is the story set in an alternate universe? Do you plan on incorporating real events of the time?
I really can't be of much help in the year, but I'm sure you can find many interesting events of the time. From your start I can see that your story might be one of redemption, or simply of a lonely angel looking for companionship. You're a good writer by the way, I can't believe you're only twelve. Happy writing!

-Adrian

Forgotten,
Nothing wrong with the end,keep it. Please do. It's just and odd way to end of a story\chapter, in my opinion. It's just my opinion, if you like, keep it. Also, I know it said he's a guy but reading the name made me picture a girl. Maybe change his name?? I don't know, what ever you are comfortable with. XD
- mackenzie

I don't get why people keep on thinking hes a girl
He says right at the start 'Lexine Torn. It was a meaningful yet meaningless name, not even really correct for a boy. I didn’t feel like a boy really, I was a lot more than that. Boy was a stupid human word.' And I kinda thought 'what a stupid angel' meant it would end on a bombshell....

Help?!

Lexine. Never a good place to start, out of order, not to fit in.

What a stupid angel

Hi forgottenfallen,
This seems to be kind of like the book by Neil Gaiman, Stardust. I don't know, the story just reminds me of that book. I didn't seem to find any obvious mistakes and the previous reviewers have made the point to make the story into paragraphs and have seen to the confusing words. I did, at first, think that the main character was a girl. But when you explained that it was a boy, I understood. But, great job! I can't wait until Part 2 comes out! Angels and Vampires, seems like an interesting clash.

Hi forgottenfallen, welcome to the best writing site in the world, YWS!!

Sorry for being a somewhat like a 'teachers pet' but i have to point out that YWS has a 3:1 review ratio here, which means one has to post 3 reviews for every piece of your own work that you post on YWS. In your case you've already submitted one of your own storied but not reviewed even once. I suggest you take a look at these two extremely helpful links before posting again.

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topic710.html

Addict said -:
Well, there is one problem absolutely anyone on here will point out: you need paragraphs! Don't cram it all into one paragraph, space things out a little. There are some obvious breaking-up points throughout, so I'd suggest you hunt for them and don't question your instincts, just press the enter button!

This sorrowed me.

My hair was long, sleek, and black, it in loose curls around my shoulders.

Scars laced my arms, not from self harm, from the harm of the cruel outside world.

Wasted his life on alcohol, drugs, gambling.

mostly because I made such depressing thoughts that they kept me up.

It sparkled, with such beauty and wonder that I was mystified.

What a stupid angel.

Hey forgottenfallen, welcome to YWS! So, shall we get down to business?

Well, there is one problem absolutely anyone on here will point out: you need paragraphs! Don't cram it all into one paragraph, space things out a little. There are some obvious breaking-up points throughout, so I'd suggest you hunt for them and don't question your instincts, just press the enter button!

Now on to the nit-picky things:

Lexine. Never a good place to start, out of order, not to fit in.

This sorrowed me.

But why did I long?

My hair was long, sleek, and black, it in loose curls around my shoulders. I washed it in the pools of water by the sides of roads in the dead of night, the entirety of it in tangles as I didn’t have a brush to my name.

Never was so much owned by so many to so few

mostly because I made such depressing thoughts that they kept me up.