z

Young Writers Society



Diago

by thefireinmeisJC


I can't seem to write anything good lately....its quite depressing actually. Anyways, this something I wrote up for the heck of it. I may continue I may not. I'm random like that.

---------------------------------------------------

Dante became one with the wall. The shadows hugged his body with all its might, cupping their tiny fingers around his mouth. The rough brick kissed his neck, leaking scarlet from its lips. The bitter air of the alleys seemed to leave his lungs as Dante held his breath. He stood completely erect, waiting. A stream of sweat whispered in his ear as it dripped down his cheek.

Give up, Dante.

The three words ricocheted through his empty mind, banging the walls in sweet temptation. All he had to do was move.

Joshua Russo didn’t have his eyes but he definitely had his ears. He listened to every movement of the night; an automobile speeding down the cobblestone road to crickets rubbing their legs together. He listened to the breathing of Dante.

Dante listened to the small tapping the cane Joshua Russo used to walk the slums of Italy.

The cane stopped for a moment.

“I know you’re out there, believe me,” a weary yet firm voice cried out in the night, “I can’t see you, no. But I know you’re out there, you little rat.”

The cane continued moving but the sounds started to get smaller and smaller. Dante exhaled a long breath, and sighed.

He pried himself off the wall and turned the corner of the alley. His hair, the color of burnt chestnuts, contained specks of dirt from the filthy walls of Baron and the fiery saliva of someone’s spite. His feet were muddy and bruised yet did not make a sound as he walked down the narrow passageway. Dante reached his hand into his tattered coat and pulled out the loaf of bread. It was still warm and the delicious smell filled his nostrils, tempting him to pull off a piece.

He had gotten away once again but who knew if the loaf would be his last object of thievery. The road was lined by little shops and a homeless man sleeping on the sidewalk. Dante turned his head, not ready to come in terms of what would be his fate as well.

Dante continued to walk barefoot up Baron Hill to the Diago residence. A white colored gate stood in front of the driveway with a small rectangular speaker.

“Dante.” Dante said, in a soft voice into the speaker. The gate’s arms unfolded allowing the boy to enter.

Dante cautiously turned the golden knob of house and pushed open the door.

“I’m home, papa.” Dante said, wearily, taking his coat off and hanging it on the coat racket. The house was unusually quiet and light was dim.

“Papa?” Dante said curiously walking down the corridor to the kitchen.

Marcello Diago sat at the kitchen table with his head in his old worn hands, stretching the wrinkles on his forehead. A small moaning could be heard, scraping at Dante’s heart.

“Did you get it?” Marcello said in a monotone voice, slipping his head out of his hand’s grasp to speak.

“I did. I did everything you told me to do.” Dante said, placing one hand on Marcello’s shoulders and one next to the bread he put on the table.

Marcello looked at the bread with suspicion and then at Dante with a drop of regret in his eyes.

“There is blood on your neck.” Marcello said, his voice ranging from suspicion to disgust.

“I told you to stay out of trouble. I told you to get the bread and get the heck out of there.” Marcello bellowed, bringing his fist down on the table. His eyes were red with fatigue but might as well of been anger. The red veins in his neck rose ever so slightly, pumping.

“I’ve given you my home, my food, my trust!” Marcello said, staring into Dante’s soul.

“I’m sorry, papa. I must have scraped myself.” Dante stammered, “I’m sorry. I’m trying my best.”

Marcello surged out of his chair and grabbed Dante’s wrists, slowly cutting off his circulation.

“Trying isn’t hard enough, you little snit.” He slapped Dante across the face and stormed away.


Note: You are not logged in, but you can still leave a comment or review. Before it shows up, a moderator will need to approve your comment (this is only a safeguard against spambots). Leave your email if you would like to be notified when your message is approved.







Is this a review?


  

Comments



User avatar
4074 Reviews


Points: 250888
Reviews: 4074

Donate
Thu Oct 29, 2020 9:53 am
KateHardy wrote a review...



Good Morning/Afternoon/Evening/Night(whichever one it is in your part of the world),

Hi! I'm Knight Hardy here on a mission to ensure that all works on YWS has at least two reviews. You will probably never see this but....Imma do this anyway.

First Impression: Well that was quite an interesting direction that went in. It looks like its the start to something that could be quite an interesting story. I've no idea where this could go but there are definitely some pretty clues hidden everywhere. But...I do believe I have a few nitpicks.

Anyway let's get right to it,

Dante became one with the wall. The shadows hugged his body with all its might, cupping their tiny fingers around his mouth. The rough brick kissed his neck, leaking scarlet from its lips. The bitter air of the alleys seemed to leave his lungs as Dante held his breath. He stood completely erect, waiting. A stream of sweat whispered in his ear as it dripped down his cheek.


Well now that is quite an intense opening that you've got yourself right there. Definitely gets you attention right away...although...umm...the descriptions is just a hair too poetic, with writing, especially if its an action scene like this appears to be, you want to be a little bit more frugal with using those otherwise it comes out sounding a little weird.

Give up, Dante.

The three words ricocheted through his empty mind, banging the walls in sweet temptation. All he had to do was move.


Okay...love the paragraphing there...does a great job building up some proper tension.

Joshua Russo didn’t have his eyes but he definitely had his ears. He listened to every movement of the night; an automobile speeding down the cobblestone road to crickets rubbing their legs together. He listened to the breathing of Dante.


Okay...now I have to wonder who exactly that is...its maybe just a little confusing this way, I think I can figure out two people and here and maybe following each other or something but the way that you've introduced us to them can lead to some confusion as to who is who and doing what. In that earlier description it would be better to properly give us an idea of who is where.

“I know you’re out there, believe me,” a weary yet firm voice cried out in the night, “I can’t see you, no. But I know you’re out there, you little rat.”

The cane continued moving but the sounds started to get smaller and smaller. Dante exhaled a long breath, and sighed.


Okay...so Dante is the one running...okay...by now at least it seems clear enough.

He pried himself off the wall and turned the corner of the alley. His hair, the color of burnt chestnuts, contained specks of dirt from the filthy walls of Baron and the fiery saliva of someone’s spite. His feet were muddy and bruised yet did not make a sound as he walked down the narrow passageway. Dante reached his hand into his tattered coat and pulled out the loaf of bread. It was still warm and the delicious smell filled his nostrils, tempting him to pull off a piece.


Uhh...okay that description seems a little crammed...it as if trying to tell us a bit too much detail. And that is pulling us out of the fact that this is supposed to be a chase sequence. Its messing the pace up a little and that's not usually a good thing.

He had gotten away once again but who knew if the loaf would be his last object of thievery. The road was lined by little shops and a homeless man sleeping on the sidewalk. Dante turned his head, not ready to come in terms of what would be his fate as well.


Well...okay, and now we get to the crux of the matter, and that seems reasonably consistent with how it should be so good on you for that.

“Dante.” Dante said, in a soft voice into the speaker. The gate’s arms unfolded allowing the boy to enter.

Dante cautiously turned the golden knob of house and pushed open the door.


Oooh...nice little bit of description...I feel like its also doing a lot more than just that judging what the description showed.

Marcello Diago sat at the kitchen table with his head in his old worn hands, stretching the wrinkles on his forehead. A small moaning could be heard, scraping at Dante’s heart.

“Did you get it?” Marcello said in a monotone voice, slipping his head out of his hand’s grasp to speak.


Hmm...well that looks like Marcello is in some kind of sickness or something right there...well this gets even more interesting.

“There is blood on your neck.” Marcello said, his voice ranging from suspicion to disgust.

“I told you to stay out of trouble. I told you to get the bread and get the heck out of there.” Marcello bellowed, bringing his fist down on the table. His eyes were red with fatigue but might as well of been anger. The red veins in his neck rose ever so slightly, pumping.


Uh...oh...that looks like quite the tough father right there from how he's judging even that tiny little thing.

Marcello surged out of his chair and grabbed Dante’s wrists, slowly cutting off his circulation.

“Trying isn’t hard enough, you little snit.” He slapped Dante across the face and stormed away.


And yup...that escalated quickly...very quickly...

Aaaaand that's it for this one.

Overall: Overall this was a very interesting opening to a story and there were a couple of places where I felt things needed changing. If you did in fact more of this story I probably would read it. And that's all I've got to say.

As always remember to take what you think was helpful and forget the rest.

Stay Safe
Harry




User avatar
78 Reviews


Points: 2256
Reviews: 78

Donate
Sat Mar 28, 2009 8:07 pm
View Likes
thefireinmeisJC says...



haha that was quick.

Anyways, I did mean "spite". If I actually continued this story, I would reveal that Dante is gay. Marcello isn't really his father, Dante's real parent's sexually abused him and he ran away. Marcello took him in and is now putting him through a series of tests to see if he has what it takes to be in his mafia mob family gang thingymajigger.

Yeah, I have a messed up mind. You're gonna hafta deal wit it. :P

JC




User avatar
115 Reviews


Points: 1422
Reviews: 115

Donate
Sat Mar 28, 2009 7:56 pm
mhmmcolleenx0 wrote a review...



Hey, I really liked this and I only found one error.

Baron and the fiery saliva of someone’s spite.

I think you meant 'spit.'

I really enjoyed this and the description was amazing. Especially the first paragraph, I believe that was the best paragraph. Keep up the good work! If you add more I'll definitely read. But, if you don't, I hope to see something new then. :D Good work!





cron
Be the annoying goose you want to see in the world.
— Welcome to Night Vale