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Creep · 11-30-2008, 12:11 AM

More of my boring writing XD

1. Awaiting.

“He thinks he’s the messenger of God.” The man whispered as he slid his hands into his coat pockets. He looked tired with purple circles under his eyes. Middle aged and balding were two good words to describe him but with a hint of sophistication that most Georgians didn’t have. I could tell he wasn’t from here by the way he walked, the way his voice carried a strange accent. Of course I was used to strangers coming in and out, leaving behind their loved ones to be cured.
Milledgeville Asylum was supposed to be one of best in Georgia, built for the poor. I wasn’t fond of working here but my uncle thought it would be good for me; I had always taken a general interest in people. It could become impossible with all the screaming at night and my heart ached for them and so I stayed.
Today had felt like any other, someone was dropping off a family member. They would leave and come back, hopping said person was cured; they never were, ever. This man with the strange accent spoke with my uncle in a whisper so low I could barely hear. With a what sounded like a grunt the man put his top hat onto his head and turned on his heels. He nodded to me before waltzing out the front door.
I felt the winter wind bite my cheeks and nose which were already turning a rosy pink. Slowly I crossed the small room, the folds of my dress ruffling against the polished wood. My uncle stood over his desk, peering down at a form, those usually friendly brown eyes narrowed.
“Uncle Kenneth?” My voice asked meekly.
“Yes, Susan?” He answered softly, never looking up at me.
“Who was that, is he leaving a patient?”
“That was Mr. King, he is from Boston and his son Gabriel will be staying with us.” Uncle Kenneth bit his lower lip even though it was covered in silver hair, such a long beard he had. Not once in my life have I ever seen him clean shaven. I came closer to the table, craning my neck forward to catch a glimpse of the paper work. From what I could see Gabriel was in his mid twenties and he was diagnose mentally disturbed. A sadness swelled in my throat, making it hard to breath as I quietly straightened my back. Each vertebrae cracking in protest.
“When does he arrive?” My curious nature was getting the better of me, I wanted to match the name to a face soon. Sometimes the face and name matched, other times I would completely disagree. There is an elderly man who lives here who’s name is Fred but I see him as more of a Bernard, possibly a Benedict. My thoughts trailed as I heard uncle shift uncomfortably.
“Tomorrow.” He said and his tone was rimmed with irritation, for some reason this Gabriel was bothering him or was it Mr. King? I couldn’t decide but I had come to the conclusion that if I spent much time that accent I would be irritated.
“Uncle Kenneth, is there something I should know?” I asked, wanting to soak up information like a sponge.
“Susan, this man is none of your concern -- he is one of our ‘special’ patients.” He confirmed as he sat in the wooden chair behind him. Our special patients. The words wore heavy in my heart already because I knew what this innocent man would have to endure; I have seen the treatments they inflict. With a sigh I advert my gaze to the floor, looking at the wood that been polished until every grain could be seen. I clasped my hands in front of me.
“It’ll be okay, darling.” My uncle tried to comfort me with words but they did me no good. I gave him a forced smile as I nodded in response but I didn’t want to be in this room.
“I should go tend to Mrs. Douglas, she has been quite fitful lately.” I tried to make an excuse, any excuse as I turned away from my uncle. He shuffled papers, confirmation that he understood and would let leave with some dignity.

I weaved my way up the stair case, my hands running up the smooth banister as I went because I felt at any moment I could topple over. Even though I did not know this Gabriel I already liked him, instantly attracted to what he might be. A blush rose in my cheeks at a thought like that. Most people who worked here considered these clients to no longer be people, that their souls had already died. I shook my head as I entered into the hall, such a long hall it was and lined with so many doors. Each an individual prison cell in it’s own way.
Just as I had told uncle Kenneth I would tend to Mrs. Douglas. She was such a sad old woman, in her late eighties. Her husband died some years ago from cancer and since then she has never been the same. She isn’t a violent woman, instead she talks to herself constantly. Always babbling about some distant memory of her past. She sometimes called me ‘Andrea’ which was the name of her daughter who had abandoned her here. I would agree with this imaginary world, it seemed to please her.
Cautiously I opened the door but it still creaked and leaned my face in first.
Mrs. Douglas sat on the side of her bed, facing the window. Her silver hair was piled on top of her head in a bun that had sloppily stated to crumble. The night gown she wore was too big for her even though she was a plump woman. I edged my closer, holding the folds of my skirt off the floor with my hands. The fabric wrinkled at my touch, like a withering rose.
“Mrs. Douglas?” My tone was low.
The old woman turned her head first, eyes staring at me like an owl. I blinked and she also blinked. A smile then suddenly tugged the corner of those pale lips. “Andrea, how lovely to see you.” She patted the bed beside her, offering me a seat. I took it without questions.
“It has been a while, hasn’t it?” I asked as I looked out the window, into the wonderland of white. Winter was a precious time. Most people didn’t enjoy it but I did, it was only time I truly felt at peace with the world. It seemed even more beautiful because it was dusk and the setting sun was turning the snow purple. The foot hills stood like black monsters as the flaming sun crawled behind them.
I sat with Mrs. Douglas until the sun was completely gone and the stars began to show, faintly throbbing in the clear sky. A moon hung perfectly still nearly covered by the grasping claws of the dead trees. Could they think that the moon would heal them? I wasn’t sure but as the old woman slumped her head down onto my shoulder in sleep I smiled.
Carefully I laid her down on the bed, removing her slippers before covering her in a patch work quilt. Most works here weren’t as generous as me and uncle. I kissed the woman’s head and she snored softly, it had been a long time since I heard her sleep this sound. I walked across the room, skirt in hand, and exited the door shutting it behind me.
Tonight the hall was empty and dark except for the flickering of lanterns in some rooms. I wondered was going on inside but I refrained from the temptation. Instead I made my way back down the long stair case and into the small living quarter provided to the works of the Asylum. I seen one other person besides myself as I came to my room but I wasn’t sure who it was so I quickly went inside. The room itself is barren of almost everything, there is a bed, wardrobe, and basin to wash my face. That all one needs in this place, beauty matters very little to our patients.
Now that I was alone the thoughts of Mr. King and his mysterious son came flooding in. I wanted to there when he arrived, to see this deranged man. I wonder what his life was like, if had always been this way or if it was sudden; like Mrs. Douglas. From his name I could tell they were religious which was good and bad. I’m religious but some people try to take it too far. I shook my head as I ran my slim fingers through my hair, combing it free of all the tangles. When that was finished I changed into my night gown then washed my face.
Somewhere in the building a man screamed and he is echoed by a woman. I shudder, rubbing the goose bumps that rise on my arms. A yawn broke my uneasiness and I crawled into my bed, extinguishing the lantern on the bedside table so that darkness engulfed me.

One_Who_Writes_Fantasy · 12-08-2008, 08:16 PM

Alright, you'd better be prepared. : )

Where to start?

I really, really liked this piece. I don't really have a definite reason why, but there are a few things that really caught my attention.

Quote:

Originally Posted by Creep

“He thinks he’s the messenger of God.” The man whispered as he slid his hands into his coat pockets.

I love, love, love this first line. It caught my attention immediately, and it was one of the first stories on here that I literally went, "Wait, what? Woah. Let's read some more of this, shall we?" It really caught my interest, and I think the man's voice, and especially body language, as short of a description of it as there is, really tells to the man's character. He obviously is highly distressed by this patient, at least, that's what I got, and it tells so much. It's so short, but used so effectively to get that perfect first line.

Quote:

Originally Posted by Creep

They would leave and come back, hopping said person was cured; they never were, ever.

This is just so powerful, so in-your-face, that you just kind of stare in awe at the screen for a while. Or, maybe that's just me.... Still, it's so gripping. However, consider putting maybe a "but" in there. Like "They would leave and come back, hoping said person was cured; but they never were, ever." I think that it would add that final punch to it, make it even more pronounced.

As for the name Gabriel, it almost made me laugh - it's just so perfect. "He thinks he's the messenger of God", so perfectly fits with this name. It's like further proof of his belief. I love it.

As for the grammar, spelling, etc, there were a few errors, but none too bad.

The whole thing is written very nicely - that part with Mrs. Douglas gives me a true sense of Susan - her compassion for the 'patients', and it really tells about her feelings, character, etc. Might I suggest making it a tad bit shorter, however? It would seem like half of it is talking to her uncle about Gabriel, and the other half is talking with Mrs. Douglas. It doesn't look that way, but it feels like it when you read it. Unless you're planning on making Mrs. Douglas a major character, you might want to 'stagger' her story throughout the rest of the story, do you know what I mean?

Again, this piece is great. Were you planning on continuing the story? It'd be interesting to see where this leads.

Thank you so much for this opportunity for a great critiquing,

Regards,
Olivia

froman · 12-09-2008, 12:52 AM

I agree, this was very good and the first line was a great hook.

Quote:

It seemed even more beautiful because it was dusk and the setting sun was turning the snow purple. The foot hills stood like black monsters as the flaming sun crawled behind them.

Wow. This was my favorite line of the whole story.

The story was very well written but paradoxically there were a lot of minor spelling and grammar errors (the majority of which were simply skipped words). Did you write this quickly without revising? Because the story was so well written the errors never took me out of the flow, but the quantity of the errors was disconcerting. No big deal though. Just go back and read over your piece slowly so you catch them all. Also do you have spelling/grammar check on your computer? If so use that.

good job!

Fegaril · 12-12-2008, 04:34 PM

I agree with the other posters. The story is intriguing, straightforward and very well-written, but there are a few bumps along the road. I'd recommend a couple of revisions before posting it. But as the poster above me mentions, you never truly lose focus because you write so well that you automatically continue.

Quote:

With a what sounded like a grunt the man put his top hat onto his head and turned on his heels.

I'd recommend a rewrite of this sentence because it immediately interrupted me in my reading.

Quote:

I sat with Mrs. Douglas until the sun was completely gone and the stars began to show, faintly throbbing in the clear sky. A moon hung perfectly still nearly covered by the grasping claws of the dead trees. Could they think that the moon would heal them? I wasn’t sure but as the old woman slumped her head down onto my shoulder in sleep I smiled.

That sentence feels out of place to me. Your style seems very straightforward with small bursts of great description, but this is a slight bit too cheesy for your story, especially as most young writers include this in their texts. I'd recommend you get rid of it

These were the most obvious errors I could find in an otherwise great story.