Young Writers Society

Hello Everyone!!

I've recently come up with a new story idea and I want to know what you all think of it. It's a first draft so be easy on the criticism. The story title is currently "What the Silence Screams". It may or may not change as my story develops. Below is the preface of this idea. I hope you enjoy it!

I would like to encourage anyone and everyone to check out:
www.youngvoicesfoundation.org

They host contests and have a message board for "writing advice" from published authors! My article was published on their website under their "Tips and Advice" section. Check it out!!

Cheers!
-thevoiceinside


WHAT THE SILENCE SCREAMS - preface

The soft pitter patter of uneasy footsteps echoed in the dark alley. The boy rounded another corner, squatting behind a metal dumpster. He could hear their voices; muffled, yet close. The air gave off a musty, almost suffocating sense. A stack of one hundred dollar bills fell carelessly to the ground. The sound froze his insides, causing him to curse under his breath. Stuffing the wad of cash back into his backpack, he ducked behind an apartment stairwell. Several moments passed and the only sound to be heard was a distant police siren. The alley seemed to be trapping his every escape route and the only light illuminating the alley came from a second floor apartment; casting murky shadows against the opposite building. The fear inside him swelled abnormally, promising to burst his gut. The boy pulled a 6mm pistol from his jeans as he rose to his feet. His heart failed to beat for several seconds; cold steel pressed firmly against his neck. The boy raised his arms in a surrendering stance, pistol in hand.
“Drop it.” A scratchy, familiar voice spoke from behind. Choking fumes of cigarette smoke met the boy’s lungs with an eerie greeting. The pistol fell from the boy’s grasp and hit the dirt ground with a muffled clunky twang.
“Alright Ray, back down.” The boy spoke sternly, his voice quivering. The man with the scratchy voice lowered his weapon. Two other men grabbed the boy and flung him against the brick wall, pinning his arms helplessly.
“Where’s my money, Hendricks?” The man spoke again, pacing back and forth, nervously. Tears pierced the boy’s eyes and even still, he wouldn’t cry.
“It’s in the bag, I swear!”
“It better be. Slik, search it.” He said motioning toward a prune looking man who shoved the boy from the wall, prying the backpack from the boy’s back. He appeared to be in his mid-twenties. He rummaged through the bag, placing wads of cash in stacks on the dusty pavement. The man’s face showed no emotion, he was unfeeling. The boy was still held captive by the jawing grasp of the third man. He too looked to be in his mid-twenties, although his face was unfamiliar to the boy, unlike the other two men.
“750 big ones are missing.” The prune looking man, referred to as ‘Slik’, spoke angrily as his handed the backpack to his boss. The color drained from the boy’s face, he hesitated, “I can expl—” Ray slapped the boy across the face.
“Shut up Hendricks! You’re asking to be shot. I want my money! I want it now! Where is it?” The scratchy voiced man, Ray, paced again, back and forth. His energy screamed anger and fear.
“I don’t know!” The boy’s voice cracked with terror. Ray raised his fist to the boy’s face in a threatening gesture. He pulled a gun from his leather jacket with his other hand, pressing it firmly into the boy’s abdomen. “I won’t wait too long, Hendricks. And I won’t hesitate to end your pathetic, wasted life. You’ve got four days to cough up the money and tell your friend Pete,” Ray paused, looking around, “wherever he is, that I’ll do the same to him if I don’t see my money soon. Got it?” The boy nodded in agreement as the gun was removed. Ray gestured to the third man who threw the boy to the ground, causing the boy’s right knee to bleed. The three men ran anxiously out of the alley. The boy reached up to touch his sore, numb lip. The taste of blood was definite. He cursed several more times as his staggered to his feet, darting blindly out of the alley in the opposite direction.

Hey! Welcome to YWS! I hope you like it here.

Your story was very interesting. It was a lot of fun to read, and very mysterious. We are left wondering who the boy is and why those men need that money. I can't wait to read the rest of this.

There are, however, some grammar mistakes that I'll point out.

He could hear their voices; muffled, yet close.

Instead of a semicolon (;) how about a colon (:)

Choking fumes of cigarette smoke met the boy’s lungs with an eerie greeting.

That was a very strange and awkward sentence. How about rearranging it?

The man’s face showed no emotion, he was unfeeling.

This is a run-on sentence. There are a few ways to correct this, but I'm gonna choose one: "The man's face showed no emotion, and it was unfeeling."

“Drop it.” A scratchy, familiar voice spoke from behind.

Er... sorry. I tend to go out of order in my critiques. It's one of the many dialog rules that you have a comma at the end of the sentence. Like, for example,

"Run and play," Dick said.

INSTEAD OF

"Run and play." Dick said.

OVERALL:

Like I said up above, this was very good, and very promising. I want to see where this is headed. You've given us a likeable main character, and that's the first thing that I look for in a story. So great job! I don't really have anything else to critique you on, so good job.

-Jared

Overall a good piece but there are a few mistakes that you might want to correct. I'm new here too so no pressure. I might not even know what I'm doing! But I'm getting sidetracked. Ok. When you say "The boy spoke sternly, his voice quivering." then that doesn't really work-the two descriptions contradict each other.
Also when you say "He motioned to a prune looking man." What exactly are you trying to say? That this guy looks at prunes all day? Maybe a better description would be "A prunelike man." or "A man with prunelike skin." Other than that, the story seems good. Keep it up! Hope this helps.

-Cobra

This was an interesting beginning. I liked the descriptions you had and you set up an intriguing situation. We don't know much about the boy, however, so we aren't inclined to care too much about him. Readers tend to sympathize more with characters whose names they know. I felt like I could identify more with Ray, just because I knew his name. You do mention "Hendricks" as a name, but you never refer to the boy as it, other than in Ray's dialogue. That distances the boy from the name and we don't really think of him as that, so he is still, in a sense, nameless.

A stack of one hundred dollar bills fell carelessly to the ground.

I don't think that the money fell carelessly, considering that the kid freaks out about it. "Carelessly" implies that the boy has money to burn, whereas, in reality, his life appears to depend on this wad of cash. "Heavily" might be a better word (cash is pretty heavy in "stacks") or you could even cut the adverb and instead have "...fell to the ground with a thud." Then you even have the sound that he reacts to in the very next sentence.

His heart failed to beat for several seconds; cold steel pressed firmly against his neck.

For a while, I didn't get that this "cold steel" was someone else's gun. I thought it was the boy's gun and I was trying to figure out why he was holding it to his neck. My suggestion to fix that would be to have the gun touch his neck first and then he reacts. For instance:

"Without a sound, cold steel pressed firmly against his neck. His heart failed to beat for several seconds as he froze in panic."

“It better be. Slik, search it.” He said motioning

Do you mean "Slick" or "Silk"? I think you mean "slick" as in "slick as an eel", but I wasn't sure at first and was wondering what kind of ganster call sign an expensive fabric would be.

Also, that period after 'it' should be a comma and the first letter of 'he' should be lowercase. BBB explains that in his review.

In any case, this looks like it could be an interesting story. I like your title as well. Very nice.

*thumbs up* Keep it up!

~GryphonFledgling

You did keep me a bit confused as to why you kept giving us weird analogies to peice up certain spots of your chapter one, but it wasn't like I didn't understand it, I just wonder if other people understand it like I do, because i'm putting myself in your shoes, but great job anyways, you kept me hooked.

Hello Jared, GryphonFledgling, Cobra and Bishop!!

I know this needs a lot of work! I just wrote it off the top of my head. So I haven't even gone through it to edit it. That's why I know it needs a lot of work. Thanks to all who commented!! I really appreciate it

When I'm writing and I re-read what I've written, I don't always see mistakes and how I could have made it better. I'm sure EVERY writer has experienced this. So the comments are greatly appreciated and needed for a piece to succeed.

Thanks so much!! I'm planning on revising this and posting it again. Hopefully it will be better the second time.

Cheers!
-thevoiceinside

P.S.
GryphonFledgling,

I really love your quote:
"Ink is the strongest drug, the deepest ocean, the longest journey and the strangest love. ~me"

It's awesome!
Okay I have to just say it again! I REALLY love your quote!! It's truly brilliant! haha

Really liked this story. Your descriptions were so good that I could imagine this all. I know I have to tell you what you should improve but I don't know what. Well their is one little small problem at the begging I didn't really understand what was going on. I think that my comment is wrong, but I am telling I just couldn't understand the begging. Maybe it's my paying attention problems.

But I really liked the story.SUPERB.