It is 3am. [ANewChapter]
The clock screams out. The time is three in the morning. Head reels back onto his pillow and he can feel his heart and mind descending into himself. Reaching out helps nothing. The can no longer breath. His bed is no longer a place of safety, but a coffin.
Heart racing, he tries hard to focus. He stares deeply at the clock across the room, the red numbers seem to be uncertain. Three-thirty, three-twenty-five,three-fourteen, three-fifty-six. Whatever time it was, he knew he was within the worst hour of his life. He pressed his fingers against his cheeks, hoping for the warmth of his body not to leave him. He is lucky, as he is still alive.
Yet he does not want to be, in this very tragic moment. His heart shaking and his skin crawling, he pulls the covers tight around him trying to hide his face from the outside world. Shoulders uneven and head slowly sinking into the pillow he cannot seem to hide much longer. The clock's light beams into his eyes through the sheet. The moonlight beckons him. Begs him to reveal his “cowardly” self, as his mind put it. Or at least, he felt as if the moon would call him a coward. As he pulled the covers back down, he wasn't sure if he should agree or not.
Staring again, at the empty bedroom his eyes move back to the clock. Time is still confused. Time is still making him writhe under his skin. His heart jolts to life. The covers fly off his bed and cover his desk. His bare chest puffed out, he launches towards the clock with a roar loud enough to express his rage, but silent enough to not awaken anyone else in the house.
Tumbling forward, he finds his  body unable to move. His heart rapidly beating and punching every part of his body. He clutches at his body, slapping himself all around.
“No. No.”
Tears begin to fall.
“I can't do this right now…”
The world him begins to spiral into a blur of colors. The blur of neon red slowly morphing into an eye, watching his helpless body. His arms now grasping at his chest as he struggles to breath. He clutches his face again, sweat melding with the tears.
He swears he can hear laughter. He swears he can hear the screams of those lost. But most importantly, he swears he can hear her again. It all melds together into a symphony of unstoppable agony.
The eye of the clock watches him in all of it's green beauty. It blinks, pupil dilating and adjusting as he squirms on the floor.  He glances away, only to realize that the other objects in his room have taken life as well. The lamp laughed, as it slowly melted into a pair of lips. The covers blocking out the moon became a hand beckoning him, waving to him.
“Why don't you come back?”
Her voice spoke softly
“Why don't you come back to me?” Her voice said, with a small hint of glee.
“No! Fuck you! No!
His voice comes out torn and jaded. He is not sure if these are the words he truly means, but they feel right!
And as the voice continues on. He blocks out the noise. And then, within an instant, it all stops.
The crickets chirp outside. Wind blows. Causing the tree outside his window to brush against his house. He breathes heavily. It's finally over.
But it isn't.
He glances at the clock. It's time still unstable. He lets out an indistinguishable curse, then looks up past the clock. His heart plummets. Talons lead to a large owl with a horn like brow, glaring down at him.
“So this is who was chosen?”

Total CC; 3360
For: cash TBH
"Take Care of Yourself"

[Image: b39fbfee7b09365ea573d45fc9c2cdbe.gif]
Done well:
Every sentence has evocative description or compelling emotion to it. Both do well to draw the reader into the flow of the story and give a glimpse of the madness and agony our viewpoint character is suffering.
The recurrence of the clock gives us a reference to watch the flow of the story. Even as it changes its numbers on him, he keeps looking back to it in hope it will be his anchor.
Whose voice we hear is a great hook to later development, too – someone who clearly meant a great deal to him, but whose memory taunts him as he suffers. Great potential there.

Room for improvement:
Grammar had a few awkward sentences that throw off the flow – you might try to read the story aloud to yourself and it may help you catch fragments or awkward passages.
Quote:Head reels back onto his pillow and he can feel his heart and mind descending into himself. His heart rapidly beating and punching every part of his body. And as the voice continues on.

In the first, Head seems unattached until nearer the end of the sentence – probably better to put it ‘his head fell back onto the pillow’. In the second, you use a very active approach to describe a feeling, but it doesn’t describe the action. Rearranging and rewording it a little would improve both the flow and the readability. “His heart pounded furiously, pulse beating through every vein and artery in his body.” The third could be rolled into the sentence after it, as it doesn’t describe anything on its own.

This story passes at Easiest, so you can claim $3,000. If you want to take it higher I’d focus on polishing the grammar – I can tell there was a lot of emotion put into this story, but it’s a little hard to empathize with and that robs it of some impact.
Staff, head grader, chief judge, ranger. My stats (always a work in progress!)
Park: Evan Morphic: Aaren Cassandra

Forum Jump:

Users browsing this thread: 1 Guest(s)