Denioc

I looked down the dark alley I was standing in. I usually come here when I needed time to figure things out, to vent. Tonight, it was a cool, crisp autumn evening and there was a slight breeze that felt like an angels hand was sweeping across your face as it blew across the busy city. I sighed and sat down in the dirt, resting my back against the brick building. I was free. Free from the terrifying pastimes I’ve experienced that haunted me. I listened to my body slowly inhale and exhale continuously, trying to clear my mind of everything.

“Y’come here often?” I jumped. I hadn’t seen or heard anyone or anything. I looked around and to my left a tall dark figure stood before me. It made its way toward where I was sitting. I stood up, preparing to defend myself if needed.

“Excuse me? Who are you?” I demanded.

“Didn’t mean to frighten you, miss. Just curious is all.”

“I don’t see why you would ask that to someone you don’t know.” I said harshly. I wasn’t too comfortable with strangers asking me questions. By the figure's voice I could tell it was a man.

He chuckled, “The name’s James Travis. Pleasure to meet you, Miss.” He held out his hand to me, expecting me to put my hand inside his to formerly greet each other. I backed up a couple feet. I was uncomfortable with his presence.

“I’m sure it is but it’s not much of a pleasure to meet you. I must be leaving now.” As I started to retreat, he grabbed my arm.

“Wait,” he said a bit too sharply to my liking, “I want to see you and I want you to see me.” he said, fixing his voice to a more calm level. I squinted at him but I didn't think he had seen me. I was creeped out at this point.

“Why is that?” I said, turning around to face him again. Although it was too dark to really see anything, I could tell he was wearing a hood over his head. He released my arm.

“Well we just met and it’d be proper if I have a mental picture of who I’ve gotten acquainted with.”

“Um, no, sorry.” I said and I attempted to walk away again.

“I’ve dreamt of you.”

“Excuse me?” I said. My heart pounded against my chest.

“I’ve had dreams of you. Many dreams. I see your face and you’re beautiful and I want to be with you always. I can feel it’s you but I have to see you to be sure.” This interested and frightened me simultaneously. I turned completely around to face him. I walked up to him until only five inches were between us. I looked up to where I thought his face would be.

“You want to see me? Then come,” I felt a nervous feeling developing in the pit of my stomach as I led the way to the lamppost at the end of the alley. Although I thought I was walking much quickly than usual, he could still keep up with me even though his steps were at a much slower pace than mine.

Once I stepped out of the alley and into the light, I quickly hung my head down, causing my jet black hair to fall in front of my face as if they were curtains. James gently placed his hand on my chin. The touch of his cold, callused hands against my pale skin made me wince. He slowly lifted my face up, forcing me to look up at him. I could feel him studying my face for what seemed an eternity. I felt awkward. Turning myself away, I crossed my arms.

“So my dreams are correct. You are beautiful, Miss Crawford.” He said, breaking the silence. I spun around, surprised.

“How… how did you know my name?”

“My dreams have told me all about you. I know nearly every detail of your life. I know that you are ashamed of your past but you must let that go behind you and start a new beginning to your life. You can start over now an—“

“You haven’t had any dreams. You pervert! You stalker! This sick joke needs to end now!” I screamed, interrupting him. I looked at him. My eyes began to well up with tears. No one knew about my horrific past except my mother and my best friend Abigail. I began to feel like someone in a horror movie, just waiting to be captured as a victim from stupidity.

James sighed and pulled his hood down, revealing his face. He had very dark brown hair that was the nearly looked the same shade as mine before I died it black. It swept just above his deep amber colored eyes. They mesmerized me. I had never seen such beautiful eyes in my entire life. I tried to scan the rest of his face but he realized I was staring and I looked away quickly.

“I’m being serious. This is no sick joke. I’m not a stalker. I’m not a murderer. I’m not a kidnapper or anything else you think I am. I’m simply a guy who has these wicked dreams about you and they give me information about you. I’ve never seen you before in my life until tonight, in the alley. You have to trust me.”

“And why on God’s heavenly earth should I trust you? We just met and I don’t feel the need to trust you.” I could feel my eyes start to dry up. I felt relieved that I wasn’t about to burst into tears in front of this stranger.

“Well you should,” his voice began to rise but he caught himself and lowered it back down again, “because I really need these dreams to stop. They started seventeen years ago and at first I thought it was just an oddball dream. I was wrong. This is something different. They keep creeping into my mind every night. I don’t know what they want but I need to find out and make them leave me alone.”

My head began to overflow with thoughts and I couldn’t think clearly now. I felt as if I were in a dream. When people said that, I thought they just wanted attention but no, this time it was for real. I started to feel dizzy but I couldn’t understand why. I sat down on the cold concrete and rested my head against the streetlight pole.

“Are you alright?” James asked with a sincere voice, bending down beside me and putting his hands on my shoulders. His magnificent eyes looked puzzled.

“I’m fine,” I moved a bit so that his hands slid off my shoulders. He didn’t argue and put his hands in his pocket. “Just a bit tired, I ‘spose.”

“Well, maybe I should walk you home in case yo—“

“No!” I said a bit too sharply. “ I mean, no, thank you. I’ll be fine.” As I stood up the wooziness got worse but after a few seconds it died down. I felt normal again. My eyebrows pulled together as I tried to make sense of what just happened. It all slowly came back to me.

“Will you stop… staring at me like that?” I screamed. James chuckled in response.

“Of course, Miss Crawford. It was a pleasure to meet you in person and I hope you will find the courage to come to my place tomorrow and we’ll talk some more.” He handed me a piece of paper. I took a glance at it. It had an address and a phone number scrawled on it in chicken scratch.

“Oh, I have the courage. I just don’t want to see you again.” I crinkled the piece of paper into a ball and stuffed it inside the pocket of my jeans. I crossed my arms started to walk away, fixing my eyes on the cracked sidewalk beneath my feet. I felt him once again bring her back, closer to him. I didn’t like being this close to him, but I was tired and didn’t feel like fighting my way out of his grip. He leaned and pecked me on the cheek with his cold, bitter lips and left. Just like that. I was stunned.

333

How much of a stranger is James? With a little slower pace and time to reset the characters to the setting I feel this piece so far would harmonize better.

__________________
Create Revise rETHINK

Denioc

You'll have to wait and see, if you actually want to read the rest later on. But, I'm not sure myself. I usually don't have plans when I write.

SparkyLT

That's funny about your sister.

Ok, red is punctuation-that-should-have-been, and purple in parenthases are just my comments or ideas.
Mm, sorry if I nitpicked. I did enjoy reading it and it's very interesting. Few other things...I'm assuming our main character (who needs a name other than Crawford, by the way) is 17, since James (which is my favorite name by the way, so this one really hits home for me...must stop commenting about names) said his dreams started then, but how old is he? Also, I don't know why, but I kept thinking of him having a Southern accent. Maybe because he called her 'miss' all the time.

Anyway, like I said, I really enjoyed it. I don't think I've read anything like it before. Nice work.

Denioc

Thank you guys for the critique.

Park: About the switching POV's. Total accident. See, I first started writing this story in third person. But then I felt like I could tell this story a lot better in first person as I kinda needed to get inside Charleigh's (the girl telling the story) head. So I switched it to first person and I was just rewriting the entire thing while looking at the other one to be sure I didn't forget any details in there (as if this is making any sense anyways). And thanks again for your suggestions. I will be making the changes

SparkyLT

AH. Yeah, I did that once. Learned my lesson, too, I'll decide what I want to do before I go trying to do it again.

I'm glad you weren't offended by my huge critique. It's not that I found that much wrong with it, I just had a lot of little idea and things, and that was the best way to do it. And, I'm eagerly anticipating more, if you plan to post it.

Denioc

Yes, I will. Eventually. I tend to procrastinate. A lot. But hopefully I'll stick with this story and not let it die like my poor, poor past ideas. (R.I.P.: Past Ideas)

I'm working on Chapter Two. Still have to "change" it and then I'll have to still have to finish the rest of it up and then I'll post it ;D

The Prodigy

I've noticed that you've had the detailed critique, so I'll skip that and write only my humble opinion.

I enjoyed the story as a beginning. Many times writers will begin a work without a proper start as if readers like being dumped in the middle of a mess. I thought this served as a great introduction, somethings which could be built successfully on.

What caught me literary wise was the scene itself. To me, it didn't feel realistic, to use a better word, plausible. There is a reason why Miss Crawford didn't immediately run away, I just don't know why. Why walk to a complete and bizarre stranger and allow him to stare at your face? Once again, there is a reason in your writing; it is there, but isn't discernible.

Your new, so I'll stop there. But there wasn't much else to me to comment on anyway. (That's a positive statement.) Looking foreword to the following chapters. And yes, like you, I procrastinate aplenty. Please don't let this be one.

Thanks for the read.

__________________
...the writer must live with hope, work in faith.
- J.B. Priestley

Denioc

Thanks for your opinion Prodigy.

You'll find out later on why she didn't just "run away". So don't worry, I do have somewhat of a plan for why everything happened in that chapter like it did. ;D

Brendan M

"Two Flowers On A Sidewalk".. James isn't a bad guy. I normally wouldn't view such a character as a bad guy, considering I'm totally intrigued by paranormal behaviours. However, the title just enforces that, they both play an important part in something, they're both for the good of something. Would I be right in saying this? Bah, that's just a plain view. Sorry. Mr Not-Origianl here, at your service.

I loved this. I really can't give you advice, other than typing more and believing in yourself. This is really good. I especially like (but at the same time dislike -- I get a creepy feeling from them) the descriptions you use of James touching her. Spooky indeed.

Keep it up, you're doing good. =D>

Denioc

No worries, I have come up with some plans (at like 1 am) and I will type more.

And I won't be giving anything away (I hate spoilers) other than that "Miss Crawford"'s first name is Charleigh.

Brendan M

Charliegh? Well, that just ruins the entire story now. I totally know what to expect. Shouldn't'a let that one slip.

Well, I'll be tuning in.

Denioc

So here's the next part of my story. It needs work, I'm just having troubles finding where it needs to be improved. So enjoy. It's a bit longer than the first chapter.

I woke up to find the sun right in my face. I groaned, pulling the comforter over my head. I sat there, in the silence of my home. Moments later, my eyes shot open, my memory sparked. I shoved the blankets off and sat up, trying to remember if I dreamt last night or if it really happened. I dug my hand into my jean pocket and pulled out the piece of paper that was jammed in there from last night.

“I didn’t dream all of that last night? Oh this is just great. What a terrific way to start my day!” I hollered to no one in particular. I raised myself out of my bed and absentmindedly wandered to the bathroom. As I walked into the bathroom, I looked across the room. Peering into the mirror, I examined myself.

I was a disaster. My hair was all over the place, as if I just finished an episode of head banging to a rock concert. My mascara and eyeliner was smudged around my deep emerald eyes. I looked as if I had been retrieved from a grave. I sighed. I didn’t want to get up today. All I wanted was to stay in bed and convince myself that last night’s incident was a dream. But I couldn’t. I’d just have to live with it.

After showering and changing into clean clothes, I decided to call Abigail. We have been friends since the fifth grade. I considered us close friends as I don’t care for the term “best friends”. I just find it a bit too childish for my taste.

“Talk to me,” a voice answered at the other end of the line. By her voice, I knew it was Abigail.

“Hey Abby, it’s me. Listen, I have to talk to you.”

“Hm? Sure, you can talk to me about anything, anytime, anywhere.”

“Thanks, but I’d rather not do it over the phone. If you don’t mind, can we meet somewhere?”

“Of course. Where to?”

“That coffee place that you’ve been whining to go to for ages.”

“The Coffee House? Finally you agree to go. I’ll meet you in twenty minutes?”

“Sounds good. See you there.” I slid my phone shut. I absolutely adored the new phone I received from my mother, Patti just a couple months ago for my birthday. I paused. Where was my mother, anyways? I hadn’t seen her at all since right before I left to spend some time in the alley last night. She always tells me where she is going unless to work but she never works night shifts.

I slid my phone open and dialed in my mother’s cell phone number and listened to the ring repeat itself. Ring, ring, ring… No answer. I frowned. I figured she left to go spend some time at her friend’s house and they ended up drunk so she stayed overnight. She’s done that a few times before but she’s usually home by now. I checked the time. 12:43 p.m. I didn’t plan on sleeping this late but I needed to catch up on some sleep anyways.

I yawned and drowsily walked to the kitchen to grab my car keys and jacket. I decided I wanted to arrive at The Coffee House early. There was nothing else to do. Instead, I decided to walk. I needed the exercise anyways and I had about thirteen minutes to kill.

The Coffee House wasn’t far from where I lived. In fact, it was only six blocks away. It was a relatively warm afternoon for being in late autumn. I watched as a variety of people drove by in cars or those who chose to walk as I did. The town of Livenhood is a small one with only around thirty-five hundred people but it gets very busy this time of day. Every one was out and about, especially on the weekends. I’ve always hated towns with such a small population but this was perfect. Not too small, not too big.

I felt something cold and moist land on my nose. I wipe it off with my index finger. I looked up at the sky. It was about to rain. The clouds were grey and heavy with rain that yearned to fall to the earth. As it began to rain harder by the seconds, I quickly put on my jacket and pull the hood over my head. I watch as a few people catch a taxi or quickly turn inside a building while a few others bravely remained on the streets.

I start to speed up my walking. I hadn’t intended on getting soaked while simply trying to get to The Coffee House. With the rain pouring down and pounding everything with it’s moisture, I quickly open the doors, relieved that I had reached my destination. I shivered a bit and found a comforting looking couch to sit on, with a nice wooden table in front of it.

I looked around, taking in the atmosphere. It was peaceful. There were a few other people in here, protected from the rain. There was an older couple who looked to be in their late seventies or so who were sitting on the other couch, conversing with one another too quietly for me to hear. Over by the window was a business-looking man sitting on a table, typing away on his laptop.

“Can I help you?” a voice said with such monotone. I turned my head and an old, crinkled woman was standing there, waiting to take my order. With a long, curved nose and squinty eyes, she reminded me much of a crow. She was also the scrawniest person I’d ever seen and her teeth were yellowed and nearly rotting. I refrained myself from saying anything about her appearance.

“Sure, I’ll just have a regular coffee. Thank you.”

Without saying a word, the woman left to prepare her coffee. The least she could’ve done was fake a smile. People these days…

“Hey! Hey you! Grab me a cinnamon roll and an iced vanilla latte!” The few heads in the building turned towards the direction of the voice entering. I rolled my eyes. Abby.

“Man, am I starved. I was actually hoping you’d suggest some place they serve food. I haven’t eaten for over twenty minutes.” She exclaims while rushing to sit on the cushion next to me.

“Abby, don’t you have any manners?”

“What are manners?” She scoffed, with a hint of sarcasm in her voice. I couldn’t help but grin. Abby could be such a child and an attention-seeker. But that was just like Abby. She was the happy-go-lucky kind of person who wants to be a part of every party ever hosted. She usually hooks up with a different guy every week. In fact, just a couple nights ago she had ended the relationship with Phil. According to her, he was too boring for her.

“Anyways, what would you say if a random guy, who you’ve never met before, comes up to you and claims he knows every little detail of your life from his dreams?” I ask. Abby thinks about this for a moment and then her face brightens up suddenly.

“Is this your way of telling me you have a boyfriend? I’m so proud of you, Char—“

“I’m serious, Abby. Last night I—“

“A regular coffee for you,” the old woman interrupts, handing me my order. “and a cinnamon roll and an iced vanilla latte for you.” We handed the woman our money and waited for her to leave.

“I…” I paused, lowering my voice to a whisper, “I was in the old alley like usual and then all of a sudden this stranger comes up to me…” I finished explaining every detail of the story while Abby sat there listening intently, eating her roll. When I was done, Abby didn’t say anything. She just sat there, chewing and swallowing her food. After a moment, chuckled and cocked an eyebrow.

“Wow. You came up with such a crazy story that nearly had me convinced. Charleigh, if this guy is your bo—“

“Abby! I’m not making this up, okay? This is for real. I’d really appreciate it if you’d listen to me for once. I’m creeped out right now and I really need someone to talk to.”

“Okay, okay. It just sounds so out there, y’know?”

“I know.” I sighed. I took a sip of my coffee. It was starting to lose it’s warmth. I took out my phone and looked at the time. 1:22 p.m. I set the phone on the table.

“What do you think I should do?” I asked hoping to get a decent opinion out of Abby.

“Well, he gave you an address, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, I’d say meet this guy. Face to face. And who knows, maybe you two will fall in love and get married and have kids an—“

“Abby…” I warned, lowering my voice.

“Sorry, I just got excited. But yeah, you should meet in in person.”

“Hm… I don’t know. It just doesn’t seem right.” Suddenly, Abby turned, focusing her hazelnut eyes on the clock hanging above the menu at the back of the building.

“Look, I’m sorry to just get up and leave but I have to go meet Mark. So I’ll see you later. Hope you get that thing sorted out with that guy or whoever.”

“Who’s Mark?” I questioned curiously.

“Oh, my new boyfriend. I met him last night a party some chick from our school was hosting. He’s super cute. Well I’ve got to go. Love ya, hun!” She quickly stuffed the rest of her roll in her mouth and grabbed her drink and left.

Small-town_Wright

I like it. I love how Carleigh reacts to meeting James.
I imagine that if some guy told me he'd been dreaming about me for 17 years, I'd freak out, too. Especially since I'll be turning 16 in September.

There's bound to be quite a few things you'll change before you're done with it, trust me on this. Just read it and revize the best you can by yourself.

Your a natural at this writing thing. Don't over think your process, and don't start planning out stories because someone told you to.

Good luck.

~Small-Town~


PS: I take my job as cheerleader very seriously

__________________

Denioc

Yeah, I'd freak out too.

Thanks for reading it. And, I didn't start planning because someone told me to, it just came to me, you know? I have this magnificent plan for this story but it might work that way, it might not. We'll have to wait and see.

__________________