Young Writers Society

Please Critique this!
The grammar is used like that to convey drunkeness and a tense atmosphere.

Prologue
Have you ever wondered how life works? The mechanics. Is it just luck of the draw? Or is it all about choices? The point when you decide to stop wasting it all. You could take the easy route and not stop. You do because by then, nothing else matters and by the time you do decide to stop, it’s already ran you down.


Chapter one
1:am
“Mel? Mel?” I’m on the floor, covered in foul smelling vodka shots. I must have passed out.
“Jen? I fell!” then I am laughing, a loud laugh, rushing out my mouth, making me feel sick. Jen is laughing too, like it’s the funniest thing in the world. She pulls me up and we cling to each other for balance.
“Where are we?” I ask, my voice hoarse in my throat.
“I dunno!” Jen splutters, falling in a giggling heap, but she’s wide-eyed and frightened. I have a look round, but all I can hear is a thumping beat like a heavy metal band moshing in my head. I can smell alco- pops, vomit and the whiff of a spliff. A house party.
We try to side step the stiff bodies on the floor but it’s fucking hard with Jen clinging to me and every so often we hear an ouch of pain as Jen clomps someone on the head with her stilettos. Once we’re outside, we have no idea where we are. It’s deserted and all the houses are asleep. We trudge down the road until we meet these two blokes, James and Rick.
They’ve got a car and Jen likes James a lot and Rick likes me too and he’s touching me and says we should go somewhere but I think he’s creepy and I’m gonna heave and I tell them to piss off. I try to grab Jen with me but her and James are busy I sneak a look and their definitely busy and I’m lurching so I bend down to get my bag and Rick gets a look up my skirt and he’s off again and my throats burning when I’ve finished. I whirl round, but the cars gone and I’m thinking oh shit what about Jen? She was pissed and I don’t want those creeps to hurt her and I’m running away but I don’t know where to and this man appears and I’m crying on his shirt and he’s telling me everything’s going to be ok and then it all goes black.

Chapter two
9.00am
I’m dead I have to be. I ache all over and my throat’s parched, I feel itchy and scratch my legs and then I realise I can’t be dead because you don’t scratch when you’re dead. When I open my eyes the bloke I cried on last night is looking at me and boiling water on a little camping stove. He’s about thirty, with dark messy hair and sad eyes.
“How old are you?” He asks
“Sixteen” I mumble
“Too old to be pissed like that”
I feel ashamed. I watch him make some tea and he hands it to me and I feel grateful, it’s hot and sweet and makes me feel better.
“Hangover cure” he smiles weakly and lights a cigarette.
“Nice place you got,” I say looking around; it’s a shack with bookshelves on every wall.
“ You were talking about a Jen last night, call her, use my phone”
I remembered then. I dialled her home number. No answer.
“I’d better be going..” I start.
He nods and takes his car keys from a rack, “you don’t know where you are do you?” he responds to her unsaid refusal. I told him where I lived and he dropped me off.
He waited until I reached the door before I said goodbye.
“I’m Mark”
“I’m Mel”
“Bye Mel, take care”
I watched him drive off as I opened my door. There was a half eaten pizza in the fridge, it was cold and congealed but I wolfed it down anyway. Checking the answer machine, I played the message. It was from Jen.
“ Mel … I was so drunk I said yes the first time, but after you left, Rick and James they, they.. Raped me”
I gasped and dropped the empty pizza box with a clatter.

3:00pm

Jen’s knees buckled beneath her as we left the police station.
“ They got away with it,” she said flatly
I nodded numbly and lifted her into an embrace, her shaking tears soaking my coat.
“ I was…gagging…for..It..That’s…what..They…. said”
“Jen…” I was nearly in tears myself. “ Everything’s going to be ok, I promise.”
“ They said I liked it rough!” shrieked Jen “ But I’ve always wanted to be loved!” I held her in my arms and believed her.

Chapter 3

Jen lived with me after that. I tried not to leave her alone in the house, but I had to earn a living. Work for me was the Kebab shop down the road. Mr McNiesh was a miserable Scottish bloke, unfortunately my boss. He hadn’t even heard of health and safely yet alone a pleasant working environment.
For the first few weeks, Jen lay in bed watching television to drown out her sobbing; I had no idea how to comfort her.
Me and Jen started going to college again and got used to a routine, it felt good being part of the college social scene again. I still thought of Mark before I went to bed at night, and his kindness. With Final exams approaching we decided to go a house party at a friend’s house. Jen curled her hair, something she hadn’t done in months.
It was packed and we managed to get ourselves drinks from the fridge. Four beers later and I felt woozy and needed some air; I stepped out into the cool dusk and nearly tripped over someone on the step.
“Sorry” I stammered
It was Mark.
“Hey” he said
“What are you..?” I began
“Don’t worry nobody saw me” He replied
We talked for what seemed like hours and watched the sun setting over the garden fence.
“You protect me,” I said.
He was silent.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing”
It got colder and he put his jacket around me.
“I’ve thought about you” I whispered
“Me too” He replied
It happened, he kissed me softly, gently. Then he pulled away.
“This can’t happen” He said, getting up.
“Why?” I whispered.
He never answered; he left me on the step, with his jacket. I clutched it to me and breathed it in.
Jen
I sat back on the sofa and poured myself another drink. Where was Mel? Her brain felt foggy, unsure. A man sat down next to her and whispered something into her ear. It was James.. She froze.
“ No! No! No!” Everybody turned
“Get away you… bastard!” she leapt up, knocking her drink onto his shirt, it made him madder.
Mel
I heard shouting and ran inside. What was going on? James had Jen up against the wall, teasing her neck with a knife.
“Jen!” I shrieked flinging myself at James. Someone grabbed me and pressed something cold against my head. A gun.
“Quiet Bitch” whispered Rick, his breath strong with beer. “ Anyone want to be the good guy?” he sneered at the crowd.
Mark
I sat in my car and cursed over a cigarette. I love Mel, but it couldn’t happen, she needed to know who I was.. But I couldn’t bear it, it would hurt too much. I pulled out a pen and wrote her a letter, pressing it to the doorstep before turning to leave, and
then I heard the screaming.
Jen
The door opened and I felt my heart leapt, someone to save us, to end this.

Mel
Mark grabbed James and James fell and the knife clanged and Jen picked it up.
Rick pressed the gun closer to my head.

Mark
I saw that bloke with Mel and I had to do it, I had to rip out my heart, I had to.

Mel
Mark and Rick walked towards each other like an old western. In my head I was screaming Mark, no he’s got a gun, he’s got a gun and I prayed and hoped and loved him all at the same time. Mark he’s….
Oh my god oh my god you bastards what have you done..? So much blood, so much blood. I loved him….. Oh my god oh my god..

Jen
That bloke died for us? Come here Mel babes shhh shhh.


Epilogue

Dear Mel,
I love you, but we can’t love.. I am meant to protect you to guard you, but from a distance. The mechanics, is that what you called it? It’s a mixture of chance and choices. I’ve made a choice now to leave, but it was luck that we found each other, I never regret meeting you. This hurts so much, but you do realise who I am? By now?
And finally
Do you believe?
Yours, Mark

Mel
It’s been a month now; those sick bastards are in prison, where they belong. To many Mark was ordinary, that’s because he chose to not be noticed, not to attract attention. His job was to protect me, to watch from the sidelines. I’ll always wonder if he chose to die, because he knew him and me would never work, and that nothing else mattered. Life is a mix; to fall in love with your angel is not in the mechanics.

Well, I didn't really like the introduction. It felt more like you were writing an essay than prologue. As I got into the rest, I found most of it enjoyable. It was understandable, flowed smoothly for the most part, grammar was good. I really liked how you worded this section. It felt, real I guess, for me.

I’m dead I have to be. I ache all over and my throat’s parched, I feel itchy and scratch my legs and then I realize I can’t be dead because you don’t scratch when you’re dead. When I open my eyes the bloke I cried on last night is looking at me and boiling water on a little camping stove. He’s about thirty, with dark messy hair and sad eyes.

The ending of the story sounded rushed, like there wasn't any planning put into it when you were writing the character's thoughts. Maybe put some more emotion as to what they're feeling about the scenes? It seemed like you were on the right track, but the horror if it all got kind of lost.

Mel
I heard shouting and ran inside. What was going on? James had Jen up against the wall, teasing her neck with a knife.
“Jen!” I shrieked flinging myself at James. Someone grabbed me and pressed something cold against my head. A gun.
“Quiet Bitch” whispered Rick, his breath strong with beer. “ Anyone want to be the good guy?” he sneered at the crowd.
Mark
I sat in my car and cursed over a cigarette. I love Mel, but it couldn’t happen, she needed to know who I was.. But I couldn’t bear it, it would hurt too much. I pulled out a pen and wrote her a letter, pressing it to the doorstep before turning to leave, and
then I heard the screaming.
Jen
The door opened and I felt my heart leapt, someone to save us, to end this.

Mel
Mark grabbed James and James fell and the knife clanged and Jen picked it up.
Rick pressed the gun closer to my head.

Mark
I saw that bloke with Mel and I had to do it, I had to rip out my heart, I had to.

Mel
Mark and Rick walked towards each other like an old western. In my head I was screaming Mark, no he’s got a gun, he’s got a gun and I prayed and hoped and loved him all at the same time. Mark he’s….
Oh my god oh my god you bastards what have you done..? So much blood, so much blood. I loved him….. Oh my god oh my god..

Jen
That bloke died for us? Come here Mel babes shhh shhh.


Epilogue

Dear Mel,
I love you, but we can’t love.. I am meant to protect you to guard you, but from a distance. The mechanics, is that what you called it? It’s a mixture of chance and choices. I’ve made a choice now to leave, but it was luck that we found each other, I never regret meeting you. This hurts so much, but you do realise who I am? By now?
And finally
Do you believe?
Yours, Mark

Mel
It’s been a month now; those sick bastards are in prison, where they belong. To many Mark was ordinary, that’s because he chose to not be noticed, not to attract attention. His job was to protect me, to watch from the sidelines. I’ll always wonder if he chose to die, because he knew him and me would never work, and that nothing else mattered. Life is a mix; to fall in love with your angel is not in the mechanics.

Besides that, I liked the last part the best even though I didn't like the introduction. That was the best part. It really tied everything together to where I was satisfied. It was probably the most realist part in the whole piece. It seemed like you put the most emotion into that.

It’s been a month now; those sick bastards are in prison, where they belong. To many Mark was ordinary, that’s because he chose to not be noticed, not to attract attention. His job was to protect me, to watch from the sidelines. I’ll always wonder if he chose to die, because he knew him and me would never work, and that nothing else mattered. Life is a mix; to fall in love with your angel is not in the mechanics.

Anyways, I did like your story as a whole, but some parts didn't do it for me. You can take what you'd like from this critique, but I hope you use it to produce more wonderful-or morbid-works like this one. Best of luck!

-Mattie*

I liked the story. I dont't really know how the mechanics worked into it. Maybe it was about Mark being shot. Like what Mattie said you could have streatched the ending but it was still good.

The idea behind this is (albeit kinda cliché) very sweet. You've chosen to write about some very squeamish topics and explore some very interesting themes. But I also think this could be a lot stronger with some improvements.

Some points of contention:

- Formatting. I'd ordinarily turn away from a story that isn't formatted — it's too much of a hassle to pick through. It isn't difficult to format properly; either indent or double-space after every paragraph:

“Jen? I fell!” then I am laughing, a loud laugh, rushing out my mouth, making me feel sick. Jen is laughing too, like it’s the funniest thing in the world. She pulls me up and we cling to each other for balance.

“Where are we?” I ask, my voice hoarse in my throat.

Otherwise, reading an unformatted story is an eyesore.


- Grammar. Okay, I understand you're trying to convey a certain atmosphere, so some of the lack of grammar makes sense. But a lot of your grammatical mistakes have absolutely nothing to do with drunkenness, nor do they help you emphasize a drunken atmosphere whatsoever.

Let's start with the basics: dialogue. Each line of dialogue should be properly punctuated:

“I’m Mark”
“I’m Mel”

See? No punctuation. There should be a period after their names:

“I’m Mark. ”

“I’m Mel.”

Likewise, this:

“Hangover cure” he smiles weakly and lights a cigarette.

should be

“Hangover cure.” He smiles weakly and lights a cigarette.

Note the period after "cure". Dialogue must be punctuated. I'm going with the assumption that you've learned the basic rules of dialogue punctuation in school — if you haven't, there are all sorts of places you can learn, both online and offline. Heck, there's even a couple of tutorials on YWS — here's one that sums up the major points pretty well.

There are a lot of grammatical errors strewn throughout the story. Commas especially, but you also omit punctuation from the end of some of your sentences — not good. I'd suggest signing out a grammar book or reading some online grammar tutorials (again, YWS has its own legion of them) or even asking people for help on the Writing Tips board.

Again, I understand that you're trying to convey a sense of drunkenness, but I don't understand how

“How old are you?” He asks
“Sixteen” I mumble

omitting punctuation from these sentences, capitalizing "He" unnecessarily, and forgetting the comma after "Sixteen" have anything to do with the drunken atmosphere.


- POV switch. For the first two chapters, you wrote the story entirely in Mel's point of view. And then, in the last chapter, you not only switch POV, you do it multiple times throughout. If you're going to have POV switches like that, have them throughout the entire story — don't stick them in randomly at chapter three. As it stands right now, it looks shoddy — consistency is your best friend.


- Mark/Mel. The way it's portrayed in the story is really creepy and not cute at all. She's sixteen. He's thirty. They're complete strangers; she's drunk and he takes her into his house and she's not creeped out by that?! He's almost twice her age, she's not legal, and yet she's not bothered? On top of that, she tells him where she lives? And he watches over her? Not to be horribly blunt or anything (really, ) but Mark sounds like a pedophiliac stalker. I know he's her guardian angel, but if that's the reason she's not creeped out by him (although, still, after her friend got raped? wow, she's really naïve), you need to emphasize that better in the story. Obviously you don't need to directly say that he's her guardian angel, but at the very least stress the strange connection between them. And have Mel acknowledge the weirdness. The way it stands now, it seems as if ithe thought simply didn't occur to her, which seems highly unrealistic.


- The Mechanics. You say a lot of vague unconnected things about the mechanics of life, but never really string them together into one coherent thought. Figure out what you want to say about the mechanics, specify it in the text, and then emphasize it throughout the story. It's the central theme behind the story, yet you don't make any reference to it aside from in the prologue and epilogue. Work this idea into the story; how does the luck of the draw and/or mixture of chance and choices affect Mel? I can make several vague guesses, but there's really nothing in the actual story that explicitly deals with this idea of mechanics that you introduce in the prologue (and kind of mention in the epilogue).


Hope this helps a little. If you want me to clarify anything or have any questions, let me know. Like I said before, the idea's sweet; I'm just not sure it works as the story currently stands.

Good luck!

I like it a lot

I like it a lot

Actually in Britain 16 is legal. I have the age gap because this story isn't conventional, it deals with rape. Mark is a lost soul, plus for the fact he is an angel, he knows where Mel is at all times. Just wanted to say that.

Thank you for the critique and other than than, I have took your advice.

This, as I re-read it, seems incredibly sad. It brought tears to my eyes.

Thank you very much, I do write very sad and dark prose I admit, but If a piece of writing moves you to laughter or to tears, I think that's one of the most beautiful things in the world.

You brightened my day, thankyou.

AliceXoxoxo