Young Writers Society

The cold endless expanse of white was before me and like every doctor I had begun to get bored. The tireless working days and nights where one after another people from every place imaginable end up in the same chair and have to be stitched up or otherwise sent on their way when my help is not enough. I stair down at the current patient laying limp on the operating table and completely oblivious of this world and here I am examining the poor creature that is sure to die. I slowly pick up my scapula and slice open its insides and stomach for the world to see. After slowly removing the gushing entrails I work up to the head and slice the ear cleanly off. I move to the eyeballs and pick them out one by one. I place each item that has been removed from the body onto a side tray to be examined closer another time. I cut off the leg, the arm and the head and from each I remove either a hand, foot or another ear. There is just so much that I could keep slicing and dicing all night. As a thunder claps off in the distance I back off from my work and examine the exquisite elegance of the product. I wipe my scapula and cutting saw off in the nearby medical towel and stand up. Now the fun is over and I must clean up the mess that has been made or else I might one day get caught and never again indulge in such a fantastical dream. I replace the tools to their respective places. Now only the body is evidence and I know how I am to get rid of that. I smile as I slowly pick an ear and slide it closer and closer till it is about to touch my lips. I shudder before I take one more breath to nerve myself and shove it end first into my mouth. There, I thought as I started to chew and the sold turned to liquid the filled every corner of my mouth and tongue. I was finally happy and could be who I always was inside. As I pick up the next ear I hear a noise from behind me and I quickly shove the rest into my mouth and start to run off. I hope mommy isn’t too upset that I ate her chocolate bunny without asking.

The cold endless expanse of white was before me and like every doctor I had begun to get bored. Bored of what, like every doctor? The weather? Death? His/her job?The tireless working days and nights where one after another people from every place imaginable end up in the same chair and have to be stitched up or otherwise sent on their way when my help is not enough. I stare down at the current patient laying limp on the operating table and completely oblivious of this world and here I am, examining the poor creature that is sure to die. I slowly pick up my scapula and slice open its insides and stomach for the world to see. After slowly removing the gushing entrails I work up to the head and slice the ear cleanly off. I move to the eyeballs and pick them out one by one. I place each item that has been removed from the body onto a side tray to be examined closer another time. I cut off the leg, the arm and the head and from each I remove either a hand, foot or another ear. Didn't you say it was sure to die? But that means "not dead yet." And why has he/she sliced it to pieces? These might be things I'll understand later, since I'm kind of reviewing as I go along, but that's my basic train of thought thus far.There is just so much that I could keep slicing and dicing all night. As a thunder claps off in the distance, I back off from my work and examine the exquisite elegance of the product. I wipe my scapula and cutting saw off in the nearby medical towel and stand up. Now the fun is over and I must clean up the mess that has been made or else I might one day get caught and never again indulge in such a fantastical dream. I replace the tools to their respective places. Now only the body is evidence and I know how I am to get rid of that. I smile as I slowly pick an ear and slide it closer and closer till it is about to touch my lips. I shudder before I take one more breath to nerve myself and shove it end first into my mouth. There, I thought as I started to chew and the sold turned to liquid the filled every corner of my mouth and tongue. I was finally happy and could be who I always was inside. As I pick up the next ear I hear a noise from behind me and I quickly shove the rest into my mouth and start to run off. I hope mommy isn’t too upset that I ate her chocolate bunny without asking. This disgusted me....until the end,which made me laugh. XD This was really clever, and in general I like this a lot. I don't have any major corrections really, this was totally entertaining.

Keep writing,
StoryWeaver

okay, i have a question. why is it called Prodigal Child? just wondering, because i didnt make the connection.
btw, i did laugh at the end. (though at first i thought you were writing about a cannibal; how relieved i was!)

okay, i have a question. why is it called Prodigal Child? just wondering, because i didnt make the connection.
btw, i did laugh at the end. (though at first i thought you were writing about a cannibal; how relieved i was!)

I named it Prodigal Child because the definition of prodigal is wastefully extravagant and the child in the story is taking their moms candy and wasting it on cutting it up. Also playing on the bible referance with the prodigal son returning and everyone rejoicing when neveryone thought he was beyond saving. Well, it's only a working title, so I haven't decided on an offical title. If anyone has any ideas please feel free to comment an idea! )

Nice hehehe, I hate to sound nitpicky but there was a place near the beginning when it said "stair" and I think you meant "stare" also, I think you meant "Scalpel", not "Scapula". One more thing, I think since you like writing horror, you should look into the prison study and milgram experiments. They don't actually have to do with horror exactly, but the prison study showed that power corrupts and the milgram experiments showed that most people would administer a potentially life-threatening electric shock to someone else if an authority figure told them to.