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Young Writers Society


If Forever Ends, Chapter 1



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Wed Nov 23, 2011 2:14 am
Skay13 says...



I sweep the peice of auburn hair away from my eyes, looking into the night while the night looked back. A car engine cuts off and I feel you, I hear your breathing from across the street. I'll never turn around to look at you...we both know what's about to happen and having a few more moments of sanity will be a blessing. Softly your footsteps draw closer as I brace myself for the words I know are coming. Finally you're behind me, your shins graze against my bare back and I crave the connection that will never be mine to hold again. Your touch has always been my fire, like you had a pocket full of stars.
You sit down in the grass next to me, and finally I take the chance and look over at you. Blue eyes that make my heart soar are staring back at me; a relentless, heart peircing stare that opens the soul and lets it all in. Your next words will stick with me forever, if forever is even possible.
"I promise it wasn't your fault," you say to me and I crack at every word. My heart flutters under my ribcage and the tears seep out slowly. I start to flashback..police sirens..too many questions..running..faster..must get away..all of this a few short hours ago. Of course you knew where I would be.
"It doesn't seem to make sense," I start, "why me? Why was I with him? Why did those have to be my last words? Why didn't they stop? Why did I make it? Why was I the only one?" I look at you straight on. "Please Jacob...tell me why." My hands run through the blades of grass to my sides while I think over everything I didn't have the courage to ask myself.
Jacob knew I would be here because this was always where I went when life crashed down around me. When my mother took up her drinking I drove out here to get away from it all, to breathe. This is where he had found me after my older sister lost her battle with cancer. This same spot in this same field. And now here I was in a tattered shirt, torn jeans, and a heart full of dread. Here was where I went after I ran away from the site of the crash. The crash that had just killed my father, and a family of three in another car. I was the only surrvivor. I was alone.
"You're in a little bit of trouble for running off. You know that, don't you?" You ask. I should have known you would be straight forward with me. You always were. "I mean, I understand the emotions got the best of you, Riley. It's hard. It's gonna be hard for awhile. But you can't just leave while the police are asking questions. It doesn't look good." I tune in and out while you're talking, mostly foucusing on the stars above. I would stay here and count them all night if I could, but there are a few problems with doing that. One is the fact that it's December in Maine and I'm wearing clothes torn beyond repair and my skin is turning blue, and also I have a cut on my leg and it's bleeding through my tattered jeans.
Finally, I speak up. "Yes, Jacob, I get it," my voice is shaky as if I had gurgled rocks. "I promise I'll go back home, just not now. Don't make me go back yet. Mom is probably a mess and I couldn't bare to deal with it." Slowly you nod your head, as if you understand, before getting up and walking away. I wonder where you're going but don't ask. Instead I stare in front of me at the slow building frost on the weeds. Gingerly, I reach out to touch it. The stale warmth of my hands causes it to turn into water on my fingertips. I'm not sure why, but I then press my fingers to my lips and kiss the cool moisture.
"Hey." Jacob's voice scares me and I jump. Usually I would have felt him walking back towards me, I never get so..lost like that. I bend my head skyward to see you hovering above me like a dream. "I just got off the phone with Mrs. Carol. She's gonna stay with your mom tonight so you don't have to go back home yet, but she said you should at least stop by and get some clothes for the night." I nod my head but then realize I don't know where I'm staying. You seem to know I'm going to ask because you then say, "You can stay at my place tonight. George and Linda are out of town for a few days anyway. The spare bedroom is all cleaned up and everything." Again I nod like I know what's going on.
I wonder how he knew to call our neighboor, Mrs.Carol, to see if she'd stay with mom. Or why he made it a point to tell me his parents would be gone...for a few days. I push it out of my mind as you hold out your hand for me. I take it and electricity whirls around inside my head. You'd been gone two years and still everytime we touch it's like lightening. No one payed much attention to the fact I never moved on after you left me. They chalked it up to the fact that my sister, Kinley, had just passed and I was in mourning. If only they knew.
I stand on shaky legs as you support my left side while we walk to your car across the street. You open the passenger side door and gentely set me down on the leather interior seats before closing the door. The soft click sound resonates deep within me. Your Lexus was so nice compared to my beat up Camery that shreiked everytime the door was shut. But I didn't have to worry about it now because it was gone, totaled in the accident that took place a few short hours ago. I shook images of my dad out of my mind and foucused on the dash in your car. You were already starting the engine and soon we pulled out and started down a narrow road.
The rest of the drive I can't remember. Silent streets and quiet houses we passed all blur together. The one thing I remember is pulling onto Rose Street, where my house lay, and seeing two police cars at the house. At first I thought maybe they had been waiting for me, but then I see what they're doing there. Mrs. Carol is on the stoop crying, her pale blonde bun messy and loose. To her right my mother is on her knees in the damp grass, a bottle of Jack Daniels in one hand, and automatic pistol in the other. She's screaming toward the sky as four officers surround her, saying words I can't make out. I open the door to run to my mother, halfway to my yard I hear a loud bang, and the world goes silent.
Last edited by Skay13 on Thu Nov 24, 2011 12:37 am, edited 1 time in total.
  





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Thu Nov 24, 2011 12:13 am
creativityrules says...



Hello there! First off, welcome to YWS. I absolutely love this place; I've become such a better writer since I joined and have met a lot of other incredibly nice, talented people that have helped me out. I hope you like it here as much as I do! Now, on to the piece.

There are parts of this that I adore because they have a raw feeling about them that I love. At the same time, I feel like that rawness got out of hand and turned into disorder at some parts. Therefore, I want to show you how to 'tame the beast', so to say, and harness the raw feeling of your writing in order to turn it into something composed and polished. I'll begin by reviewing the first paragraph of this piece.

I sweep a piece of auburn hair away from my eyes, looking into the night. The night looks back. A car engine cuts off and I feel you, hear your breathing from across the street. I'll never turn around to look at you; we both know what's about to happen and having a few more moments of sanity will be a blessing. Softly your footsteps draw closer as I brace myself for the words I know are coming. Finally, you're behind me. Your shins graze against my bare back and I crave the connection that will never be mine again. Your touch has always been my fire, like you had a pocket full of stars.


This isn't a bad opening passage. Perhaps I might make it a little bit shorter; my other option would be to choose one or two of the beginning sentences and give them their own seperate paragraph. This will set them apart from the others and create a metaphorical 'hook' that will bring the reader into your story. The first few sentences of any piece are extremely important; make sure that they're polished and clean.

You're definitely not afraid to use different types of sentences, are you? I've read quite a few works that have been stark and bare because the only type of sentence the writer used were simple sentences. On the other hand, your writing employed different sentence structures, perhaps too many. A good rule of thumb when it comes to discerning whether you should write your content in simple sentences or another type of sentence is...well, perhaps it'd be better if I gave you an example.

"The cat and the dog went to the pet store where they bought several bags of food and new toys for both of them; at the end of their trip, they went to the supermarket and ate Oreo cookies, which were good."


It seems jumbled, doesn't it? (I know the sentence is silly, but I thought it up on the spur of the moment.) Now watch this.

"The cat and the dog went to the pet store. They bought several bags of food and brand new toys; afterwards, they went to the supermarket and ate Oreo cookies. They were good."


It sounds cleaner, doesn't it? I would suggest going back over this piece again and editing it in the same way I did with this passage here. Your content is very good; it just needs a little bit of polishing up.

Always remember that as long as you like what you write, it doesn't matter what anybody else thinks! Happy writing!

-Rose
“...it's better to feel the ache inside me like demons scratching at my heart than it is to feel numb the way a dead body feels when you touch it."

-Brian James
  








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