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Comment on my writing?

His knees wouldn't stop trembling, and his heart pounding in his chest, trying to escape him and leave him. But it couldn't, and he couldn't. He'd have shouted for help, if there was actually anyone around, but there wasn't: he was alone and lost. Wrapped in a thick canopy of trees and bushes. They'd want any excuse to beat him half dead; to rob his pockets and leave him, lying on the forest floor unhidden, covered in brown dying leafs and purple bruises marring his face and a writhing pain. No, he'd just cooperate. He wasn't planning on rotting with the dead leafs, crunching under his trembling feet.

   "Wh-what do you want?" begged Will, avoiding their eyes and gaunt stares. He lifted his head slightly, peering at one of the boys standing at the back. His mouth hung in a mocking smile and his lips silently curled the words "you", as Wills eyes met his. The boy at the front of the pack, Jim, wrenched a knife out of his pocket, wrapping his hand around the handle in a tight, choking grip. And one around the blade. Will couldn't do a thing as he stood, shaking and staring at Jims bear like hands, hairy and scarred and red. Red with blood from the knife twisting in his palm. Jim glared through Will with a blank face, etched emotionless from years of abuse. It wasn't the knife that scared Will though, nor the silence ignoring his plead. It was Jims pained eyes. They glistened with a hunger he'd never seen in a man, it was that thirst he feared, that thirst he knew would take his life. The knife shined in the ice cold moonlight, steam escaping it's surface under the heat of Jims blood. He could see his own eyes in the cruel piece of metal. He could see his fate...

                                           *

  It was Wills sixth birthday when he woke up, dragged from his sleep by the morning chill and clash of iron on stone. His brother was getting ready, whetting his blunt sword, not changing it's sharpness, just admiring the clean gleam of the blade and worn handle, earned from years upon years of heritage. He climbed from his old and stained mattress, dropping to the cold ground. Then slashed the wound already torn between the curtains of his dimly lit bedroom, hoping the air wasn't as damp and cold as it was in his room. To no surprise, it looked more so. The sky was as stained as his mattress, in darkness brought by the rigidness of grey clouds, looming the threat of rain. Will knew the sun shone brightly on the other side, he could see splinters of light and warmth trickling through broken gaps in the sullen sky.

  "Will? You up yet?" His brother, Varys, called. Placing his treasured sword on the chair and moving to Wills room, his deft steps silent even under the weight of his armour. But Will could hear him. Varys pushed the door open slightly, and peered in through the gap. Searching the dull room, looking between the beds slanted legs and the old mattress he gave to Will; searching the green curtains and the wooden cabinet with two books, both his again. That's when he started to worry. Or at least it seemed that way, when he burst into the room, his brows slanted with confusion. "Will!" he shouted, quiet enough not to stir his dad. He spun around holding his arms out, snatching Will from the air as he pounced at him from behind the door, like a six year old. "Nearly, will" Varys forced between his laughs.

  " I thought I had you," Will sighed, his words steaming before him, in the cold air, "I'm nearly a man now, six years old!"

  " Not far off," Varys assured mockingly, placing his little brother on the floor, and ruffing up his brown hair.

About a month ago I started writing little short stories, because I enjoyed doing it. I stopped because of my exams, I still read a lot though, I just looked at the start of a short storie I wrote, tell me what you think, please. Btw the * signals a flash back.

Update:

(to hi) I'm not trying to accomplish a thing, like I said it was the start of a short storie... It only took me five minutes. I don't expect it to be great. :/

6 Answers

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  • 10 years ago
    Favorite Answer

    You're a good writer. Here are some suggestions though:

    His knees wouldn't stop trembling, and his heart pound[ed] in his chest, trying to escape him [Remove: and leave him. It sounds a little redundant].

    He'd have shouted for help, if there was actually anyone around, but there wasn't: he was alone and lost.

    Wrapped in a thick canopy of trees and bushes. <- Incomplete sentence.

    They'd want any excuse to beat him half dead; to rob his pockets and leave him, lying on the forest floor unhidden, covered in brown dying leafs and purple bruises marring his face and a writhing pain. <- Unhidden or covered in leafs? Which one?

    His mouth hung in a mocking smile and his lips silently curled the words "you", as Will[']s eyes met his.

    Will couldn't do a thing as he stood, shaking and staring at Jim[']s bear like hands, hairy and scarred and red.

    It was Jim[']s pained eyes.

    The knife shined in the ice cold moonlight, steam escaping [its] surface under the heat of Jim[']s blood.

    It was Will[']s sixth birthday when he woke up, dragged from his sleep by the morning chill and clash of iron on stone.

    His brother was getting ready, whetting his blunt sword, not changing [its] sharpness, just admiring the clean gleam of the blade and worn handle, earned from years upon years of heritage.

    Then slashed the wound already torn between the curtains of his dimly lit bedroom, hoping the air wasn't as damp and cold as it was in his room. <- I love this line. :)

    Placing his treasured sword on the chair and moving to Will[']s room, his deft steps silent even under the weight of his [armor].

    "Nearly, [W]ill" Varys forced between his laughs.

    "Not far off," Varys assured mockingly, placing his little brother on the floor, and [ruffling] up his brown hair.

    Keep writing. :)

  • Maura
    Lv 4
    5 years ago

    Sounds like a northern version of the middle of nowhere. I need some excitement in my life, I think I'll step off the curb without looking. A day in the life.

  • 10 years ago

    I think the story is really good and very detailed but try adding in more imagery (the 5 senses) like what did it smell like or what could you hear etc. But other than that is was very good!

  • 10 years ago

    Avoid cliches like the plague (e.g. "his heart pounding in his chest").

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  • Anonymous
    10 years ago

    Not bad... what are you trying to accomplish

  • Anonymous
    10 years ago

    It's ok.

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