Young Writers Society

“NO!” I screamed, anger, worry, and surprise welled up beneath my skin. I knelt down beside Jake’s side and pulled out my sword. I whispered a healing incantation and moved it across the length of his body.
“Stop, you can’t heal him,” A voice came behind me. I turned on my heels, and raised my sword over my head, tensing to strike.
“GO AWAY!” I cried with every fiber of my being, my voice shook and I stumbled back, falling into the concrete. In an instant, a silhouette loomed up in front of me-it was outlined by the dim moonlight. It touched my elbow and started to help me to my feet. I tried to speak, but my mouth was closed by the jaws of confusion and rage. I couldn’t move my arms and the thing’s touch was hot and uncomfortable, it lifted me in one swift movement and I was back on my feet.
I whispered another healing incantation and started to revive Jake.
“I told you, you can’t heal him,” The voice was male and it came from my side. I looked toward the sound but the light was horrible.
“Please just let me be, he—Jake, Jake was my friend. I need to try.” My voice must’ve been hushed, his face came closer and I had to repeat myself. The moon shifted and light streamed in through the windows. The thing was a teenager. 17, I think, my age. He was tall, at least 6ft. Bronze curls fell across his forehead in long wisps of hair. His complexion was flawless; his nose was straight—not too long and not too short, just right. His mouth was set into a grimace, but… his eyes. They were silver, without pupils, but mostly grave. As if he had seen death before. I looked away.
I ran the length of the sword over the length of Jake’s body, whispering the incantation over and over, trying to make Jake do something. Do anything. Eventually I gave up, I’d been trying for 45 minutes…Jake was dead. I started to rock back and forth, folding slowly into the fetal position, and then the tears came. The boy knelt next to me and started to say something in my ear but I couldn’t hear anything. I didn’t want to. I closed my eyes trying no to think of anything. I hoped that everything would go back to normal, but it wouldn’t and I knew that.
“We need to go,” The boy’s voice broke through my break down. I struggled to sit up, and he had to help me.
“Why-y should I-I listen to you-u? Who-o are you? What-t about J-Jake? Why do we need to leave?” I stammered, hugging myself to keep warm.
He took my arm and started to trace invisible lines through the air, bright green light started to come through his hands, it snaked around my legs and back through his. Soon we would be incased in green mist, and I knew what he was doing. I didn’t want to but once you started to teleport, you couldn’t stop. I told him to stop anyway, but he just shook his head. Green light swirled around us and then the familiar rumble of time splitting sounded through the fog of green light. And then we were gone.
***
“My name is Adam,” The boy I saw earlier sat at the end of the bed I was currently occupying, “We’re on Saturn, my home planet.” That’s why his eyes were so…metallic, so cold.
“Well, uh…why am I here?” I asked, tempting to move out of the bed.
“Wait, your being helped back to being normal, you can’t move around to much, or they have to do the surgery all over again.” Hi pushed my shoulder back, softly, and then grimaced-probably waiting for an outburst. It wasn’t allowed to give surgery to people who are already unconscious.
“Surgery? Was there an” I stopped; realization hit me like a train. Jake. Jake was dead. I forced it from my mouth, “attack?” I knew the answer.
He sat up from the bed and started to pace the room, hands running through his bronze curls. “Yeah, we barely made it; you got shot multiple times with a ray gun.” He made a gesture to point out the tubes and casts that ran along my body. “Your friend, Jake, I think it was, well he…he’s dead.”
“I remember now.” I said, I could feel myself clenching my fists into tight knots. I decided I wouldn’t think about it. I couldn’t think about it. “Did anything go wrong with the surgery?”
“No, turns out your really healthy. I mean REALLY healthy. Your body was already fixing internal organs-the ones that can’t be repaired without a trained professional. It was amazing. You would have died on the spot if it weren’t for your body’s capacity to heal. No other organism would’ve been able to do what you did. Our number one doc just had to wire you up and put casts on you.”
“Then I should be fine to move about,” I swung my legs to the side of the bed and attempted to untangle the mess of cords that connected me to machines, “I need to leave. I have to get to the Sun.” I needed to tell the institute about Jake, and I needed to get there fast.
Adam looked uncomfortable. “Don’t-Shouldn’t you…clean up first?” I looked down at myself. I was drenched in blood. I remember I was wearing white before, but now, now it was stained red. A red nightmare. There were multiple holes where the ray gun penetrated the clothes. I shivered and the smell, the smell of blood rushed up my nose: rust and metallic smelling, plus the smell of burnt cloth, a harsh smell that made my spine tingle.
“I suppose so, bathroom?” He pointed a slender finger in the air, a sharp fast movement that pointed towards a door in the corner of the room. I stood (with no wires dangling) and headed to the bathroom.
I asked the computer for a bar of soap and a change of clothes, waiting impatiently for the holographing to begin. After washing up, I looked at the holographed map of the continent I was on. Apparently, it was Cofindootle.

I wish I could say that this wasn't terrible, but it was. It starts out with a fight, and a death, and we can't possibly care about either of them because, hey, we don't know the guy who died or why he died. And then you come out with these healing encantations and mysterious teenagers that speak out of nowhere, and you never really explain what is happening, it's like you're making up the story as you go along. But not in the cool, freestyle kinda way, but in the really ridiculous Ed Woods kind of writing.

But fear not! You're not completely bad. The problem you have is immaturity. Maybe not as a person, I mean, I don't know you, but as a writer. Your story is juvenile, the ultimate cliché. But you actually do manage words somewhat... alright. I mean, look, the start is not good. You have all-caps for the screaming which is horrid, and then a paragraph with the ghost, or whatever he is that just doesn't make any sense, but then you go and say: "I closed my eyes trying not to think of anything. I hoped that everything would go back to normal, but it wouldn’t and I knew that." And that's not completely terrible. That actually sounds pretty insightful. So I guess, you have it in you to actually write something readable. You just have to get rid of the swordfighting, teleportations, and mystery men.

And, no. It's not that I hate Science-Fiction and Space Operas and anything that isn't gritty Elmore Leonard novels, it's just that Sci-Fi and Fantasy are the worst thing you can read unless they're really good. And look at this thing. It's just ridiculous. I'm gonna guess your favorite movies right now: Lord of the Rings and Star Wars. Have you ever seen something like this in either of them? Even in the worst Star Wars movie, does a progression of events so ridiculous as these ever happen? Or do things build up, pile onto each other, instead of happening all at once? You got your best friend dying, all-knowing mystery man appearing and teleporting you to your "destiny" all in the first section. And the narrator cries for a second and then asks where the bathroom is.

I don't even know, man.

Keep writing.

Here's what really bugs me. "I wrote this when I was bored, my first attempt at Sci-Fi". What are your trying to accomplish with a subtitle like that? Why post something you clearly put little thought or effort into? If you wrote it while you were bored, why don't you think we'll be equally bored?

This needs a lot more than a summary of what I liked and didn't like. Check the spoiler.
[spoiler]

“NO!” I screamed, anger, worry, and surprise welled up beneath my skin.

This reminds me of the Monty Python scene. FEAR, SURPRISE, AND A FANTATICAL DEVOTION TO THE POPE!

I knelt down beside Jake’s side and pulled out my sword. I whispered a healing incantation and moved it across the length of his body.

Excellent, a fantasy fiction cliché.

In an instant, a silhouette loomed up in front of me-it was outlined by the dim moonlight.

Why the dash here?

I tried to speak, but my mouth was closed by the jaws of confusion and rage.

Did you just honestly say; "jaws of confusion and rage"? That's a mistake, trust me. Call it a typo.

“I told you, you can’t heal him,” The voice was male and it came from my side. I looked toward the sound but the light was horrible.

What light?

“Please just let me be, he—Jake, Jake was my friend. I need to try.” My voice must’ve been hushed, his face came closer and I had to repeat myself. The moon shifted and light streamed in through the windows.

Which windows?

The thing was a teenager. 17, I think, my age. He was tall, at least 6ft. Bronze curls fell across his forehead in long wisps of hair. His complexion was flawless; his nose was straight—not too long and not too short, just right. His mouth was set into a grimace, but… his eyes. They were silver, without pupils, but mostly grave. As if he had seen death before. I looked away.

I believe you just described a character from a Final Fantasy video game.

I ran the length of the sword over the length of Jake’s body, whispering the incantation over and over, trying to make Jake do something. Do anything. Eventually I gave up, I’d been trying for 45 minutes…Jake was dead.

I'll say!

“Why-y should I-I listen to you-u? Who-o are you? What-t about J-Jake? Why do we need to leave?” I stammered, hugging myself to keep warm.

Since when did it get cold?

“My name is Adam,” The boy I saw earlier sat at the end of the bed I was currently occupying, “We’re on Saturn, my home planet.” That’s why his eyes were so…metallic, so cold.

I thought they were cold because he had "seen death".

“Wait, you're being helped back to being normal, you can’t move around to much, or they have to do the surgery all over again.” i pushed my shoulder back, softly, and then grimaced-probably waiting for an outburst. It wasn’t allowed to give surgery to people who are already unconscious.

I have no clue what the last line meant.

“ “Your friend, Jake, I think it was, well he…he’s dead.”

NO DUH!

“
Adam looked uncomfortable. “Don’t-Shouldn’t you…clean up first?” I looked down at myself. I was drenched in blood. I remember I was wearing white before, but now, now it was stained red. A red nightmare. There were multiple holes where the ray gun penetrated the clothes. I shivered and the smell, the smell of blood rushed up my nose: rust and metallic smelling, plus the smell of burnt cloth, a harsh smell that made my spine tingle.

The whole ray gun business is really funny. You can't be serious. Think of a creative name!

Apparently, it was Cofindootle.

That just sums it all up.[/spoiler]

This is a confused mishmash, a hodgepodge of clichés, with an unfocused plot which doubles back on itself too many times to count. The names are strained and uncreative. The dialogue is forced. It just... doesn't... work...

Okay, first things first. We need to get through all of the writing mistakes and stuff.

“Stop, you can’t heal him,” A voice came behind me. I turned on my heels, and raised my sword over my head, tensing to strike.

Try "Stop. You can't heal him," said a voice behind me." You may also want to change the word tensing. It doesn't really fit what you're trying to say.

“GO AWAY!” I cried with every fiber of my being, my voice shook and I stumbled back, falling into the concrete. In an instant, a silhouette loomed up in front of me-it was outlined by the dim moonlight. It touched my elbow and started to help me to my feet.

As someone above me said, having caps isn't usually the best way to show anger. You might want to put it in italics or just leave it lowercase. I also think that you should do the describing Adam right before this. It's kind of awkward because this character has no idea who this person is, but as a reader, we're trying to guess if the character knows Adam. I say this because your character reacts as though they know this guy with the "GO AWAY" thing and anger. Wouldn't your character at least see who this person was before jumping to these harsh reactions?

I whispered another healing incantation and started to revive Jake.

You can take the healing word out of this since you've already mentioned that is what your character is doing. But more important, you should change started to tried because we've just been told by Adam that Jake can't be healed.

“I told you, you can’t heal him,” The voice was male and it came from my side. I looked toward the sound but the light was horrible.

"I told you; he can't be healed." The speaker was male and the voice was now coming from somewhere beside me. I looked toward the sound, but the
lighting of the room was too horrible to see much. This might make the flow of the sentence better.

“Please just let me be, he—Jake, Jake was my friend. I need to try.” My voice must’ve been hushed, his face came closer and I had to repeat myself. The moon shifted and light streamed in through the windows.

"Please... just let me," I pleaded, my voice taking on a hushed tone. "He--Jake, was my best friend. I need to try." The guy's face came closer at this, indicating that he had not heard. Also, would the the moon move that fast? Maybe make Adam be the one that moves into the light, not the moon.

I ran the length of the sword over the length of Jake’s body

You have already used these words to describe that action. Try rewording.

“We need to go,” The boy’s voice broke through my break down. I struggled to sit up, and he had to help me.

Change broke. Voice broke though my break sounds weird.
I struggled to sit up unsuccessfully. The man helped me up sounds better.

“Why-y should I-I listen to you-u? Who-o are you? What-t about J-Jake? Why do we need to leave?” I stammered, hugging myself to keep warm.

Cut down the stammering. It makes the sentence very choppy and rough. Also, you probably should have explained earlier that it was cold in this room.

“Well, uh…why am I here?” I asked, tempting to move out of the bed.

Tempted.

[/quote]“Wait, your being helped back to being normal, you can’t move around to much, or they have to do the surgery all over again.” Hi pushed my shoulder back, softly, and then grimaced-probably waiting for an outburst.

The first sentence is confusing. Change Hi to He. [/i]He pushed me back down softly, then grimaced--probably waiting for an objection.

“Don’t-Shouldn’t you…clean up first?”

Don't... shouldn't you... clean up first?"




Well, there's that. Now the rest:

Like the others said, it's cliche' and unoriginal. Also kind of confusing. Is the character a girl or a boy? Where are they? What's the institute? As a reader, I'm sitting here constantly trying to figure this out. The ending was also vague. If this a continued series or something, you should indicate that, so that we're not like "That's all?"

Anyway, it has a lot of room for improvement. I think if you used that room, this story could have a lot of potential. Your stongest point is grammer and punctuation. Which is always good. But you need a lot of description and word choice. With that, I think this story would be quite a good.

Sorry, I know that was kind of harsh, but this will really benefit your writing if you listen.

Have fun editing!

Holly