Young Writers Society

I might not put any more on. Not sure, to be honest. I finally folded under Chern's constant pelting about it. (Sorry Chernobyl, bit of an exaggeration. ^_^; )

-

Faded blue curtains fluttered weakly in the smoggy breeze, slightly deluding the smell of old cigarettes and pretended cleanliness. A tiny motel room, dark with the lack of one, long-broken lamp, basking in its own filth, listened with little interest to the conversation it held within its walls.

“Try whatever you’d like, Aaron. I’m not afraid, nor will I be. You think you’re so powerful, yet you lead yourself into the weakest of situations,” she scoffed.

A ragged-looking woman sat listlessly in one of the dingy chairs, knees hugged to her chest. Her dark grey eyes betrayed nothing – they were empty.

“Easy for you to say, isn’t it? You haven’t given me a chance to test that - yet,” Sneered the man on the filthy bed, his bleached blonde hair spotless; not a strand out of place.

“You already tried that. What do chances hold? Broken promises,” She muttered, running her tongue over dry, cracked lips.

He sighed, obviously frustrated. Could anything truly frighten her?

“Well – I can’t just let you go, can I? You’d run straight to the police,” He growled, standing up abruptly.

The woman let her feet slide from the chair onto a floor that had not originally been such a dead black color, looking into his blue eyes.

“You really are the most ridiculous of stereotypes. If I wanted to go to the police, I would have already.”

An idea came to his mind, and he sat up, eyes alight.

“But Carly – what would you tell them? ‘My boyfriend and I checked into a motel.’ Really terrifying.”

He smiled at her, seemingly sure that there was nothing she could hold against him.

“Seriously? You ever considered yourself my boyfriend? I guess that makes these bruises and this emaciation completely legal.”

For a second, the worry seemed to be coming back—

“How can you prove it was me? Besides, if you ever actually escaped, I would be long gone by the time you got back here with the police,” He said, scorn for the authorities all too clear in his voice.

Does he think I’m that stupid?

“Other than that, I’ve done nothing to be apprehended for. Hardly touched you, really.”

Her face seemed to brighten – just slightly, as if the idea of fighting injustice was giving her renewed strength.

“Only because I threatened you with a razor if any of my clothes came off. Aaron, Aaron, don’t you get it? I’m not a little girl that you can throw around, nor a woman—“

“God, I get the point! So you could – technically – get me arrested for slight abuse. But you wouldn’t come downstairs for meals, so there wasn’t anything I could do about the ‘emaciation’,” he said, hateful eyes boring into her.

She was minimally effected by the amount of anger almost audibly pulsing towards her. Spoken or unspoken, threats seemed so useless; so unnecessary.

“It’s kind of sad, what happened to you. I can almost see Mr. Aaron Calenhart now, sitting at home with his family, laughing and talking and – caring. Really, dude, you could’ve been so awesome! You were smart, and funny, almost a gentleman. Now that’s all twisted up, charred by false hopes, by rejection.” The woman looked straight at him, true sadness in her voice. “All you had to do was apologize.”

The man snorted, but you could see the moisture building in his eyes – there was almost something pitiable about him.

But only for a moment.

Striding over to the dingy chair, he pulled Carly up by a handful of black hair, kissing her lips roughly.

“Let’s blame pride,” he whispered, dragging her to the bed. The rusty springs protested as he threw her onto the stained pink coverlet.

Standing up seemed futile; he shoved her back down every time. It didn’t seem to perturb Carly.

“As I was going to say, before you so rudely sidetracked me, I have had an idea. Would a romantic moment seem more appealing somewhere less,” he paused, staring around the room with vague amusement. "Old?"

"Something of an accurate description," She muttered. If she thought his words were in any way funny, no such emotion betrayed itself on her calm face.

"Thank you. But that was posed as a question, miz Damens."

"Hmm... In that case, yes. I rather fancy a trip to someplace prettier, anyways. You have any money?"

He shook his head, eyeing her with an intensity Carly didn't appreciate. Before she could say anything, he had pulled her up, their lips brushing for the slightest moment before she pulled away. The man didn't try to stop her, merely rolled his eyes, sighing with exaggerated impatience.

"Well, I have some credit cards we can use. Just be sure to erase your fingerprints and throw them away somewhere inconspicuous after this escapade," She supplied, leading the way to their 'front door'.

As they left the small, dark room behind, Aaron frowned, confused.

"Won't you do the same?"

Her eyes darkened, half-forgotten memories twisting her face into a bitter smile.

"Let's just say our constables don't know much about me."

his eye-watering bleach blonde hair spotless

I don't like the phrase 'eye-watering' here. It makes me think too much of mouth-watering, which gives me a really weird picture. Maybe you could say 'his enviable bleach blonde hair'.

She muttered, running tongue over dry, cracked lips.

Put 'running her tongue over...'

“Well – I can’t just let you go, can I? You’d run straight to the police,” he growled, standing up abruptly.

You do this with nearly all your dialogues, and I just chose this one as an example. It's not bad to do once in a while, but if you do it too often, as shown you do, it gets a little annoying. What you do is have more than one sentence of dialogue then you put the 'said' part of dialogue. Here's how you could write this sentence.
"Well, I can't just let you go," he growled. "You'd run straight to the police."
You should also try to apply other methods to lower the amount of dialogues you have like this.

Walking over to her, he pulled her up by a handful of black hair, kissing her lips roughly.

Gross. Do you know why I say that? Because I thought that this girl was just a little girl.
The reason your writing made this seem weird to me was because you referred to the girl as a girl, and the guy as a man. What if you'd called the girl a woman and the guy a boy? Then you would feel like the age of the woman was much higher than the boy's. Since they're of similar age, I think it would be safe to call her a woman. This would also avoid any freaky confusion like the kind I had.

he threw her onto the faded pink coverlet.

Using descriptive words like 'faded' too often can be noticed by a reader, and they begin to wonder if that's the only word in the writer's arsenal. (So far I've seen the word 'faded' 3 times. Once for the title, twice for the curtains, and now thrice for this).

Overall this was a nice piece of writing. I was interested the entire time and liked your descriptions. Anyway, good job. I liked it.

slightly deluding the smell of old cigarettes and pretended cleanliness

What does the smell of 'pretended cleanliness' smell like? You shouldn't use visual language to describe a scent.

A tiny motel room, dark with the lack of one, broken light, basked in its own filth, listening with little interest to the conversation it held within its walls.

This sentence is confusing. Maybe you should turn it into two sentences. Listening should be replaced with 'listened' or 'was listening' as your sentence is past tense.

Hey Sela! I am here as your devious reviewer *ties on cape and hops around*

Nit-picky

slightly deluding the smell of old cigarettes and pretended cleanliness.

Pretended sounds kind of awkward - I think "pretend cleanliness" sounds better.

A tiny motel room, dark with the lack of one, broken light, basked in its own filth, listening with little interest to the conversation it held within its walls.

This is a strange sentence. "the lack of one broken light", that comma doesn't really need to be there. And what do you mean by lack of the broken light? If the light is broken, then obviously it will be dark. It kind of sounds like you're saying it lacks a broken light, like it needs one. Eh, maybe I'm just tired. ^_^;

She muttered, running tongue over dry, cracked lips

"Running her tongue". It sounds kinda weird the way you have it.

“I do not request your consent, nor do I require it.”

Does he say this? If he does, then it should be part of the paragraph above it so it's clear that he says it.

“With pleasure,”

Okey dokey... I feel kind of alienated from the characters. Right now they're very flat, an abusive man and the in-charge supposed victim. The little girl is sort of too ambiguous to be in the role you've put her in. Is she young teenager who is more girl than woman? Or is an actual girl, twisted by her abuse? You need a little bit more description of her to classify her into one of these, so we can see really what sort of victim she is.

I feel like there's some info lacking, like this should be longer. Did he kidnap her? How long have they been there? They talk like they know each other... this information is not entirely necessary, but I would enjoy it more if I had a more complete picture of exactly what is going on between these two characters.

I did like it though. The little girl is certainly interesting, and I like the man's response to her.

PM me if you ever put up more. C:

~ Clo

“You already tried that. What do chances hold? Broken promises,” She muttered

The S shouldn't be capatilized.

“With pleasure,”

Comma should be period.


That was... confusing. Was there two girls in the room? One silent and young, the other that rebellious dark-haired older girl? Because that is the impression I got, reading this. If it's really only one girl, something is not adding up. Your descriptions of her make her seem quiet and detatched, then all of a sudden she's speaking out and murdering her captor.

Otherwise, I did like it. Your descriptions are great, your ending perfect, and the whole piece feels real and is well-written.

Keep writing.

Well, I admire your candor. Let's try that again, shall we?

Wow. I am laughing surprisingly hard at how well that fits in with the story.

CHARACTERS: I was definitely impressed with Carly. Her character was quite different from your others. The boy was slightly flat and I definitely encourage a little expoundage on him. In other words, we're going to need a lot more dialogue and interaction before she kills him. They need to discuss what she has to tell the police that he doesn't want her to tell and we need to go further into how she got there and why he brought her there. It is simply too rushed for me to truly appreciate what is going on.

PLOT/DESCRIPTION: I definitely like the first sentence. The description was pretty and gave a very vivid picture. For the most part, your words and structure are good. But I agree with other-random-person, you need to mix up the dialogue description. That is an easy enough thing to fix.

The plot is pretty solid, it just needs to slow down. You could incorporate alot of interesting dialogue in here. If you had it start out before she is threatening to leave and then have him slowly realize that she plans on running and then he gets angry...etc. We just need more plot development before she steals the life of her first victim.

Thanks. I liked it. I would definitely appreciate an edit on here and then on to the next chapter!


"By the end of the year, we're going to be saints."

Hey,

This story is well-written and contains a good buildup of tension. I think, though, that you could make it longer by adding more descriptions, or gestures, or other things to support the strong dialogue you have going.

Anyway, more in the attachment.

XxxDo

Creepy, Creepy, Creepy.

Where you an abused child?

Characters: Overall, I kind of liked how they were developed. I can't say I liked Carly. She was annoying. She seems to be really predictable, which could either be a good or bad thing. But she seems more pathetic if anything. Aaron, I loved. He was messed up to the point of being kind of amusing. I think that you developed both of them quite well but I just personally didn't like Carly.

Plot: It went by a little quickly. Maybe a bit more perhaps?

Description: I think maybe a little more dialogue would be awesome. It was sort of rushed. Also, of course, readers have to make their own assumptions about a character, but there was really no need for assumptions here. It was pretty clear to me at least.

The story was bloody brilliant though. It made me smile.

Creepy, Creepy, Creepy.

Where you an abused child?

Characters: Overall, I kind of liked how they were developed. I can't say I liked Carly. She was annoying. She seems to be really predictable, which could either be a good or bad thing. But she seems more pathetic if anything. Aaron, I loved. He was messed up to the point of being kind of amusing. I think that you developed both of them quite well but I just personally didn't like Carly.

Plot: It went by a little quickly. Maybe a bit more perhaps?

Description: I think maybe a little more dialogue would be awesome. It was sort of rushed. Also, of course, readers have to make their own assumptions about a character, but there was really no need for assumptions here. It was pretty clear to me at least.

The story was bloody brilliant though. It made me smile.

Faded Fear; Chapter Two.

If it was merely a question of impatience, Carly would've been happy to lose him, right there at the entrance of the flea-bag motel. However, he seemed determined to keep an arm at her waist - even if she could escape that, a scene was not wanted, nor needed, to ditch this one. As she focused entirely on the present, Aaron's voice barged into hearing, and she fought to hide a sigh.

"... But somehow, she still refused to talk. Can you believe that? The zoo, and the museum. I swear, that woman has an aversion to intelligence, not to mention handsome men."

"Another date gone wrong?" Carly drawled, not caring that she sounded totally uninterested in his previous relationships. "How many have turned down Mister Desperate, if I may ask? I think a safe guess would be around fifty-seven."

Rolling his eyes, Aaron hailed a taxi. It was one of those cabs you never think will actually pull over, inching along with infuriating slowness. Glancing - after quickly becoming bored of watching its progress - at her nails, the dark-haired woman opened her mouth to subtly throw an insult in his direction.

"Don't say it. Breath may not be that easy to really waste - if you're not running from some maniacal serial-killer - but time is a different matter. Do something worth the moment for once, girl."

"Well, for one, I'm not a girl. And two--"

Ignoring the fact that she was still in mid-sentence, he half-dragged her towards the snail-car as it inched to the sidewalk, slamming the door behind them with what she called a little too much dramatic force.

"--You never answered my question."

"Yes I did."

"Nuh-uh."

"Fine. I've had as many girlfriends as you have had boyfriends. That answer it?"

Carly giggled, as if he'd just hit on an inside joke.

"Eh, that would take you to about four or five hundred, at least. You would've had to break up with one everyone other minute."

"Really? So how does a twenty-one-year-old manage like you manage it? Standing in a club every day, twenty four/seven, just kissing a guy once, then dumping him? Implausible, to say the very least."

"Yeah, well, when you've been that old as long as I have, relationships tend to clutter up around you."

"What happened to all those guys, then? I mean..." He paused, letting his eyes roll up and down her for a few seconds. "I doubt they let you go willingly."

"Nah. I killed them, excepting the odd nice one."

Silence tip-toed into the cab, and it felt as though a cold breeze had come with it, sending a chill down Aaron's spine.

Somehow, he thought, I believe her.


"Here," She muttered, tossing him a square of plastic. "Get us some sort of suite. I'm tired of one queen-sized bed."

Blue eyes glinting in the sunlight, he walked over to her, one strong arm gripping her slender wrist, gentleness forgotten as they stumbled through the turnstile.

"If you thought I was going to leave you out there for a second, you need a more idiotic guy to hang with."

Plan foiled, Carly followed him quietly to the concierge desk, none of the paintings or gilded stair-rails awing her in the least. The talking that jumped back and forth between Aaron and the blue-suited employee was a low, rumbling hum of boring origins.

"So, four-twenty-eight? Thanks so much, Ike. See ya around!" Aaron called, smiling brightly as they headed for the elevator.

"Lazy little sloth," She grumbled, for some reason hoping there would be another person inside as the doors slid open.

No such luck.

"Sloth, am I? But if I was a sloth..."

No one else was getting on, and it worried Carly. He'd better not do anything stupid.

"... If you were a sloth," She absentmindedly prompted, turning to look into his eyes. Before she knew it, his hands had shot to Carly's waist, and he was kissing her; gently, carefully - but that didn't seem to make it any less surprising to the dark-haired woman.

"I wouldn't be able to move that fast."

Trying not to sway as he let her go, she shot back a random fact that she wasn't sure couldn't be proved wrong.

"I've heard sloths are actually really fast when they want to be. Just fat and lazy otherwise."

"Yup, of course," He sighed, trying to look normal as the doors pulled open and more passengers piled in. Easier for him than it was for her, considering the man had on relatively clean jeans and a tee, while Carly's clothes could be easily mistaken for rags.

"... So Alicia's pregnant, and it could've been Tommy, Ken, or even Ike who screwed her? Gina, this is just getting weird."

Two of the hotel's cleaning maids stood directly in front of them, gossiping shamelessly, and loud enough for the entire car-thing to hear.

"I know, Haley. Who'll be next? I heard Tom's even knocked up some of the gals who've stayed here. I'm not even sure if they wanted him to, even with how hot the guy is," Gina giggled obnoxiously, reminding Carly of a frightened mouse's chattering.

"Like, broken into their rooms at night? Cree-e-e-e-eepy!"

"Uh-huh. But, like, wouldn't you totally pay to be them? I mean, even Ike's pretty cute."

As they droned on about which of the men would probably rape them best, Carly glanced to her right, the shiny wood vaguely reflecting a gaunt woman with dirty black hair, dark green eyes, and a half-frown marring her lips and scrunching her nose up like she'd smelt something nasty. Leaning against the wall, she closed heavy lids with a quiet sigh of relief. It took awhile to remember just how long it had been since she slept.

Much, much too long, she thought tiredly, doors finally opening at their stop. About to follow the maids out, she squeaked as strong arms swept her into a warm, cradling hold. It felt good, but if she knew that scent, then it was Aaron who carried her. For a moment, she considered wriggling away, or yelling until he dropped her, but - that smell was comforting; bittersweet, bordering on chemical, or maybe metallic, yet staying just the right balance, and reminding her of the Aaron before Becky, before she broke his heart...

"So what about that conversation, eh? After such a moment, I worry you'll get cornered in some laundromat and... yeah," He said, lips twitching dangerously.

"I'm sure you do, sir Calenhart. But trust me - when you've been around awhile, self-defense becomes an extremely natural instinct."

He set her down outside their hotel door, swiping a card and pushing inside as a little red light came out of the closet, pronouncing itself officially green.

Oh, Tazdren, do I need sleep, she thought desperately as the little idea came into her mind. Just a small amount more of this no-rest habit and inanimate objects would start doing even stranger things, like taking showers or getting married.

"Promise you won't do anything - screwy if I crash on the bed?" She mumbled, by now hardly caring if he did.

"Promise."

He was saying more, but she couldn't hear it, nor see any details of the room. Stumbling to the bed, Carly collapsed gratefully, Gina and Haley's gossip from the elevator ringing in her head.

I heard Tom's even knocked up some of the gals who've stayed here...

I'm not even sure if they wanted him to.

Hey,

I'll review your story soon, but just one side note: why don't you post the second chapter as a seperate topic?? It might attract more attention that way. Just a suggestion.

And, ThaiFood:

Creepy, Creepy, Creepy.

Where you an abused child?

Yea, not really something you'd want to add a smiley face to, believe me.

XxxDo

Sela, Sela, Sela.

You need to make this more realistic.

In regards to Carly and Aaron: If she really doesn't want to go with him, then she's in a public place and can easily escape. If she is willing, then he doesn't need to drag her around. It's annoying to have to read through unrealistic randomness when I know you're smart enough to fix it.

Also, he can't just keep randomly kissing her. If she kind of likes him, then she'll kiss him back and it will all be cool. If she doesn't like him, she'll kick him, slap him, etc. More need for a little realism here.

Finally, it's just too vulgar. Remember what you're doing. Writing a 'PG-13' story for the things you're rating it for, simply isn't necessary. The vulgarity is grating and pointless and I know you don't need to be like that.

From what I've seen so far, I would say delete the whole thing and never think about it again. It's one thing to practice writing through silly things, it's completely different to use disgusting, vulgar things like this. It isn't good practice because you're practicing at something stupid. If you think the whole 'serial killer' thing is interesting, then go for it. But you don't need the sex and the arbitrary situations.

Like I said before, either delete it entirely, or MAJORLY change it.

(This is creepy. You're THIRTEEN. You SHOULD NOT be writing about stuff like this. I mean, even if you were my age I would say no. But THIRTEEN. Wrong.)

Hey there,

First off: Your story gets a bit confusing at moments. Does Carly choose to stay with the guy even though he threatens to hurt her, or does she not have a chance to escape? This is a bit blurry in the story, so you should work on that.
It is well-written though. I disagree with ChernobyllyInclined, and think you shouldn’t give up on the story. Just keep editing, improving, learning from previous mistakes, and it could really work out well.
At the moment it does need work, and as you were told before, one of the main areas that needs improvement is the reality factor. Right now it seems to me like Carly is really quite dumb, as she keeps herself in a position of danger without any apparent logical reason for her actions. I’m guessing this isn’t what you intended. Every part of the story where a sentence occurs to me as being unrealistic, I’ll mark with a U. Don’t worry yourself too much about all the comments I make, they’re just there to help you, not to make you feel bad.
Cher does have a point that writing about topics such as the one you’re touching on in this story goes beyond your level of maturity. It’s not creepy, per se, but it does go above the general level of a thirteen year old, regarding vulgarity.

Also, Sela, don't post the second chapter under the first! You won't get any more replies for the first like this, and things will get terribly confusing. Just make another topic.

XxxDo

Ps. More in the attachment!!