Young Writers Society

Chapter Two

"Marra, are you okay?"

Mr. Shorts barely had any time to say this before the rest of the world was eaten up by splurges of tiny black blobs, and after a moment of feeling like I would be dumping my lunch on his cheap 80's-style carpet I found myself reeling from reality.

The same premonition.

It was Pollard Hill.

The grass had become petrified in the white layers of frost. No snow, but ice clutched around the barren branches of skeletal trees and ornamented itself on various headstones.

Jacob P. Francis, Orville Miller, Priscilla J. Ogledst…these were names I’d become familiar with. The past year of my life had seen many hours in this cemetery, and even though the darkness obscured their names I knew where they rested.

My mom was buried here. I rounded the single pine tree that the field of graves possessed, the one source of life in this livid realm during winter, and the confirmation of where I was.

But I wasn’t here willingly. “Damn it!” I hissed, as the person holding my arms behind me stepped on my heels. It was as dark as Hell here. The only reason I knew where I was going was because it was so familiar to me now.

The rest was fuzzy, as usual. My ears were ringing, I remember that. Suddenly the silver ground was speckled red with blood, undoubtedly mine. I clutched my sopping chest, my stomach that was covered in this internal liquid unwillingly externalizing itself.

More footsteps. Am I being left alone, or greeted by another? I didn’t know. I just rested on the pale gray stone that was braced to the ground. My fingers released my skin to trace the words.





She hadn’t lived enough. She’d been murdered. In no world is that fair or just, as she claimed that life and death equally were. Would she believe the same if she were to see me, her daughter, lying on her grave painted in blood?

With my sticky left index finger, I painted a red star on my cheek. Mom had loved the stars. Because of her I’d loved them too.

I contorted myself with what effort I had left, to face the distant sky. There were no stars out tonight, not even a sliver of moonshine. I was alone, not even the universe for company. I think these are the seconds where you wish for someone to be sitting there, anybody, not so that they can help you but so that they can feel hopelessly afraid as well.

I think to myself, that if Fate were to allow any sympathy, it’d let me die in the company of stars.



Opening my eyes brought back the shock of reality. Summer was just rolling in. It wouldn't snow for months.

For once, it seemed, I had time.

Hello again,

I was so sad this was so short. In fact, the length is probably my biggest issue. That, and how this fits in with the previous chapter. This is the dream that she was talking about, yes? Or is this a second dream? If the first case, why is it a second chapter, coming after the first one...and why so short?

And why so short if the second instance? The reader deserves to know when this is happening relative to what s/he's already read, and an extension of this chapter could help the reader figure that out.

I'm all for storytelling out of chronological order, but not when it comes at the expense of the reader knowing what's going on.

An extension of this chapter--what she does after she wakes up--would also help clarify that the first part was a dream. One idea I just had, though, is that if her dreams are going to frequently be a part of the story, you could head them off as something besides "Chapter," or perhaps have them and the wake-up part afterward, in italics or something... somehow separated to indicate that yep, here's a premonition, etc. As it is, it's sort of weird to have a chapter just for the dream and a few sentences afterward.

So, again. Expansion? The chapter left me unsatisfied. It didn't have the sense of being an entity like the first one did.

As for other things...

Am I being left alone, or greeted by another? I didn’t know. I just rested on the pale gray stone that was braced to the ground. My fingers released my skin to trace the words.

This is in two different tenses. Since she's recounting this dream, I think you want it to be all in past.

My fingers released my skin to trace the words.

The wording on this bugged me some... It makes it seem as if her fingers have a mind of their own, and it wasn't her doing the releasing. Also, is her stomach bare? In other words, how is it that she's grabbing her skin? Was it her skin that was was grabbing, or the wound? This is nitpicky, yes.

But I wasn’t here willingly.

I love this transition. It recreates what dreams are like. You're doing something, and then you realize that that's not all that's happening, and your subconscious spits something at you like you being there against your will.

However, 'here' needs to be 'there'. She's telling this from a future point in time (right?) so she's no longer in 'here' but outside of 'here', making 'here' a 'there'.

I am a little confused as to where the person holding her went, but that's the nature of dreams. And the dream in general was nicely done.

So I guess my ending comments:
--This should probably be longer
--We need some sense of how this relates to the previous chapter
--Make sure to keep when she's telling us this consistent. Is she narrating the dream as it happens, or recounting it from later? The tense and various words need to groove with it
--I want more, bitte schoen, pretty please

Again, let me know if you have any questions.

Rach

Mmm, a bit confused, but not completely put off.

I'm assuming this is her premonition? It seems different from the bit in the prologue. What exactly was the prologue, anyway? The actually happening? So the rest of the story is a flashback? Or was that itself part of the premonition and this is just another bit? I suppose it will be explained later.

I did like the dream-like quality of it. At first, I was going to nitpick about how it went from her thinking about the graveyard to sort of remembering that she was, y'know, being held hostage and killed and all that, but it did feel like a dream. It is one thing I am really liking about this story, in how the narration is a little fragmented and scatterbrained. In many another story, I might have been upset with it, but for this, it just works. It adds so much to her character and her state of mind and it manages to not be completely confusing. We know what is going on, but we still get a sense of something being... off.

EDIT: Also, didn't you mention in the first chapter that her parents (plural) were paying for "useless" therapy? And here we find out that her mother is dead? Is she actually dead yet or is that just premonition? Did her father remarry? *confuzzled*

Again, a bit confused, but willing to roll with it and see what comes next. Just be careful not to abuse that willingness?

Onward!

~GryphonFledgling

Hey! i must say, this had a sad little ending! But its not the ending! wootwoot! haha.

First off I have to say, how you described your surroundings was amazing! I got an awesome visual of where your main character was.

Here is where I start to get confused, she said someone was holding her hands behind her back but when she started bleeding she clutched her wounds? And also when you said

Suddenly the silver ground was speckled red, undoubtedly mine.

It took me a second to realize it was blood she was talking about. I liked when you were talking about how the characters mother died, i felt lots of emotion coming from that statement.

I was kinda confused if you wanted her to be talking in past tense or present? you kinda switch through both throughout this chapter.

Your chapter moved really fast too, I think it would be good to put more details about her premonition near to the end, and then at the end I thought it was really cool how you drawled it all in in saying she wouldnt die until winter, it gave me chills kinda! All in all it was really good!