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Young Writers Society


Wouldn't Mom be Proud



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Sun Jan 01, 2012 6:46 am
WelcomingException says...



I creped along the outskirt of the broken city, my mission? To get count of the government armies. Simple enough if you know what you’re doing. No one was here to protect me, not that anyone knew what I was doing. They count me to valuable, but I’m done hiding. I had to get away from the large walls of our compound.

The streets were empty and the wind was the only sound howling that night. The innocents were asleep; curfew was three hours ago, that’s what I call the citizens stuck in between our rivalry. I knew I had to make my move now to sneak back to the out skirts of town, making sure not getting caught by the watch guards who were switching sifts.

However the guards were not the problem. It was the trained government agents. They worked like us rebellions do, always on our toes, waiting for the right opportunity to catch one another. Always a game of cat and mouse. So many rebel agents have died in the line of duty, the duty of setting this world free of the chains their own people grew up in.

The coast was clear, or so I thought. I stepped from the shadows to have a government agent jump in front of me, knife in hand. I had to think quick and realized my knife was in the back of my bag. I was sent on scrambling down alleys and streets. Until I reached a dead end. The agent was fast in the night and I was at a disadvantage being caught off guard. From his muscular build and outline he was a very strong agent and he landed a blow on me before I was able to dodge it.

Blood seeped from the open wound on my leg. Gashed open and a yellow puss filled lump growing on the side of the wound. Cut open by the enemy standing in front of me. I knew him, Alex. My head felt hazy and spun uncontrollably. I tried to reach for my knife in the bottom of my bag. If I could reach that and aim it in the right direction I might be able to get him before he even thought of finishing me off. Although, at that moment I really didn’t even trust my aim at this point, slowly things started to dim out, and grow even worse.

Alex moved towards me, his feet falling hard against the cracked cement alley. I moved back on my side, moving barley inches from where I had lain before. I saw white teeth form on what must have been his face. Only a circle in the haze. A deep killer laugh struck my ears like a tornado, and bounced around in the open air. Alex threw me something and walked away. I reached for whatever the item was, bringing a sharp pain to my hand. I brought the pained hand up to my face to see dark red liquid gliding down my hand and arm. A knife? Once I got a firm hand on it and was ready to try and aim, he was gone; his figure that was only viewable in the haze was gone.

I shuffled over closer to the corner of the building and lay there motionless. I needed a moment for my head to stop spinning. Finally my sight got better but my head still burned from a major headache. I sat up and lend my back against the brick wall, and inspected the wound. Withering purple skin, yellow puss, and crusting blood, I flinched as I dug my finger into the knife wound to check the deepness. Not to the bone, thank god.

I opened my pack, pulling out a soiled cloth dabbing a bit of water on it from my canteen, and probing the cloth against the wound. Tears built at the corner of my eyes as I cleaned the wound that had been inflected upon me by Alex. I wrapped a sterol cloth around the wound and tried to move my leg, I flinched at almost every movement, but I had to get up and walking again. I wouldn’t sit here like a hopeless doe, waiting for someone to kill me.

I got up; slowly hobbling off around the city I used to call home. I guess it still was home, I just had to sleep somewhere new all the time, and it wasn’t what it used to be when I young. Buildings had smashed in windows now, most inside were burned and robbed of whatever was left. Streets empty with liquor bottles strained across the streets. These were the streets my brother and I used to play on, riding our bikes and go trick-o-treating.

Now; he was a monster, like the rest of the government supporters. I thought I knew him, but he changed in front of my eyes, like a caterpillar coming out of its cocoon and expecting it to turn into a butterfly, but realize it’s an ugly revolting moth. I knew Alex would leave me alive, that was the way he did things, only hurt the people, and if they were still there when he got back, still fighting for life or just getting back on their feet, instead of finishing them off there he would return them to the government buildings to be prosecuted in front of everyone. Yet, I was his sister; would he do that to me? I hope he wouldn’t but I had no doubt in my mind he would if he got the chance.

“Wow.” I heard his voice from behind me. “I didn’t expect you to heal that fast May” Hearing him say my name, was almost worse than a painful slow death. He always called me Cat when we were children. I stood up taller, trying to hold my ground.

“Well Alex.” I emphasized his name, and noticed him flinch slightly at the gist of it. I always called him Jest when we were little. “I’m stronger then you think.” He managed to grin a bit, pulling out his own knife and cleaning it off with his shirt. I still had mine in my hand and curled my fingers around it tighter just to remind me of my own strengths.

Alex moved closer bringing the knife up, I whipped to the side and aimed for his face, he caught the blow with his knife and we held still for a moment, staring into each other’s eyes. I pushed down on the knifes, his hand fell beside him but he readied himself again, as did I.

“Wouldn’t mom be so proud” I spat. His face grew white as I knew it would. The main reason he and I fought still to this day. Mom was a rebel like me, and at the time so was Alex, mom died at the hands of a rebel, because they made a bad move. Alex decided the rebels were not well planned and did not even know what they were doing and he turned to the other side. He told me before he left that he saw the light in what the government was trying to do. That they must take away freedom to insure safety for everyone so they can live. Ironic that the people are bound by laws and fear that I don't even think they are living. They only exist. Ever since then I swore I would never love the boy that stood in front of me at this moment. He may be my older brother, but I could never love a government supporter.

Alex quickly dashed his knife to my side, I darted to the right and stopped his blow and his arms flung back, I took my chance and took a swipe at his cheek. I didn’t make it deep, which was odd because i was trained to kill in one strike or at least inflict a wound that will obstruct their function. Alex was my brother, although I could never love him again, there was a part of me that hesitated in hurting him. He was always there protecting me in those dark long nights. Always comforting me and making me feel safe. I had to snap out of it, this was not Alex, the Alex I knew is dead, and replaced by this demon.

“I’ll make you a deal Alex. I’m leaving the city, you escort me out safely, I will never come back. Then our little turmoil here can end.” I looked up at him sadly, or trying to look sad “For mother.” His hand was to his face, cradling it in his palm. When I ended my proposition, he laughed.

“Your blood is valuable to us May. You know that. I have to take you to headquarters.” I knew he was right, since I was practically the head of the rebellion. My temper was taking its last toll, and I decided not to hold back. I swung for his side and reach his stomach, gutting it open. Maybe I could kill him easily enough. Alex feel to the street, blood spilled on to the road and into the gutter, his organs hanging on the outskirts of gash. I knelt down beside him as his eyes flickered open and closed. His mouth hanging open as he coughed up blood, I brushed the hair from his face.

“I hate you. I hope you know that.” I got up closing his eyelids as I watched his body take its final toll and his limbs twitched for the last time. Blood still heavily spilling from his gash. It had to be done, to save the millions of lives that cannot live because of this government in place; it was a small sacrifice for the freedom of millions. I hobbled off slowly into the murky midnight air. Tears doubly swelled in my eyes, and lonely tears feel down my freckled cheeks. I just killed my brother. Wouldn’t mom be so proud?
What a Welcoming Exception *
  





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Sun Jan 01, 2012 8:19 pm
AngerManagement says...



Hello, I'm Anger and I guess I'll be your reviewer for today.

I had to check this again to make sure it really was in short stories because it read like a novel, or a longer short story as you left many questions unanswers and many holes in the story.

1. Wording: Your wording in this story really threw me off at bits, I understood what you meant but you wrote it in such a way that I had to re-read which broke the flow of the overall piece. For example :
A deep killer laugh struck my ears like a tornado, and bounced around in the open air.
I know what you mean, but it reads weird. Or this
I dug my finger into the knife wound to check the deepness.
Or this,
I watched his body take its final toll


I hope you understand what I mean because I don't quite know how to explain it to you.

2. Plot: As a reader, I feel like I'm only being given snippets of what is actually going on. May (your main character) is an important member of the resistance/rebellion but why? You never explain this.

Reading this I never really got a clear definition of what was actually going on, except for the fighting and Alex being her brother. I think you should devote a paragraph or two to actually getting the reader to understand the plot, you just seem to interject it between fight scenes.


I like the story well the basis of it, I just think it could be much better. You have some spelling mistakes in bits, so it would be good to go over the story and spell-check. I like May as a main character but at the same time I think she's far too much of a moral character, but I think this is just because I always like the bad guys xD

I'd like to see this continued as a novel, or on a much longer scale.

Hope this helped,

Anger :D
Dont tell me the moon is shining, show me the glint of light on broken glass.

Anton Chekov
  





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Sat Jan 07, 2012 2:14 am
confusnow says...



I really like your story, but it left me hanging, like there should be another part to it, somewhere. As well, there were several parts where it looked like you used spellcheck and just took the first word instead of finding the right one which added confusion to the story.This story does not start off with a lot of information about anyone, so you worked in details about the characters by having the main character think back, which you made reveal details about May as a person, depending on the way she thought back, and what she remembered. Your title is catchy and drew me in at once.
  








History repeats itself. First as tragedy, second as farce.
— Karl Marx