Writers Forum - WritingForums.com Home Rules FAQ Members Groups Calendar Gallery Search
» Sign Up «

Welcome to Writing Forums, one of the fastest growing writing communties on the web.

You are currently viewing our boards as a guest which gives you limited access to view most discussions, articles and photo galleries. By joining our free community you will be able to talk with other writers, get feedback on your work to improve your writing skills, discuss ideas, share tips & tricks, network and make friends!

Registration is fast, simple and absolutely free so please, join our community today!

If you have any problems with the registration process or your account login, please contact support.
  Search Forums
Lit.Org - Bootcamp for writers. Post your work and other writers review it, it's that easy.

Advanced Search



Go Back   Writers Forum - WritingForums.com > Creativity > Critique and Advice
Register FAQ Members List Calendar Search Today's Posts Mark Forums Read

Critique and Advice Works seeking critique, advice or assistance.

Reply
 
Thread Tools
Old 04-22-2008, 02:03 AM   #1
Member
 
Join Date: Apr 2008
Location: Mini Soda
Gender: Female
Posts: 5
Cyleste is on a distinguished road
Inmortia

Ok. I'm not sure how to even explain this. I was going for a satire. From a unique perspective. Inmortia is a play on words. In from Insomnia, and Mortia from Morte. Unable to die. Zoe, the main characters name, means life. Sweet irony? Basically it is about a young girl who courts Death. Death keeps rejecting her, so she takes it upon herself to win him over somehow.

I'm not sure whether to keep it, or throw it. I wrote this one night and never finished. ^_^

Critiques are needed for sure.



Inmortia

A Novella


A troubled young girl courts Death, but finds only the rejection of a lifetime.


"If your time hasn't come, not even a doctor can kill you."

-MA Perlstein

"Life is just one damned thing after another."

-Elbert Hubbard




Chapter One


"What? Jason, what's wrong? What? No. Why? What did I do? I did not! She's lying through her veneers! I can't stand Brian! What? So you're going to believe HER over ME? Fine. Be that way. I never liked the way you chewed your food anyway. You sound like an elephant with a cold. So long you ignominious toad!"

Slamming the phone down, I whirled to face the full length mirror on the wall. What did he see in her? Sure, she's tall and willowy and blond. But that's so...common. I, on the other hand, am unique. But nobody sees that . . .

I studied myself closely for a few minutes. Noting that my long, unruly blue-black hair was tangled again. Stupid curls. My eyeliner was smeared. I was crying. I hadn't even realized it. The saltiness of my tears had made my lips plump and red. I actually looked kinda 'tragic heroine'. Nifty.

I headed upstairs, making sure to lock the front door on the way. Kafira, my kitten, trotted behind me. I plopped down on my futon (so convenient), and flipped on the T.V.. Nothing. Nothing. Oh look! More nothing.

I turned the T.V. back off and sat thinking for awhile. "Do you think I'm pretty Kaffy?" She just sits and purrs. "Yeah, I love you too babycakes. How about some ice cream? Yeah...I don't feel very ambitious either."

Cats are the perfect companions. They listen to you without interrupting. And they are furry and cuddly and oh so cute! Gag. But really...she is cute. All black with a tiny orangish star over her left eye.

My name is Zoe by the way. In case you didn't know. My mom said she named me Zoe because it means life, and I was the beginning of hers. Like she wasn't already 40...

Both her and dad died in a car crash when I was 12. I lived in various foster homes until I turned 17. Then I became emancipated. I was free at last. I have a job at a gym. I get to work out for free. Yay me! I also go to night school 3 times a week.

Oh! And I try to kill myself on a regular basis. Forgot to throw in that little tidbit.

Don't act so shocked. I'm not the only one you know. Although, I may be the only one that never succeeds. I swear someone up there, down there, whereeverwhere hates me.

Don't get me wrong, my life's not that bad. I just want a different one. Or I don't want to exist. What kind of life is this anyway? People are getting killed every day. Kids are being hurt. I can't stand it.

I'm basically immortal. I think. I haven't died yet, so that should say something.

For instance, when I was 12, after my parents died, I swallowed two bottles of pain killers. What happened? I slept for two days. Yep. That's right.

And when I was 14? I slit my wrists. I swear I almost cut them off. What did I get? Two interesting scars.

When I was 15, I did the whole toaster in the bath tub routine. All I got was a nice tingly sensation. And some split ends. Go figure.

And last year? I hung myself. With a very strong rope mind you. In fact, I hung there for a day or so until Jessie came over and found me. She threw a fit, but eventually got me down. We haven't really talked since. I can't imagine why . . .

This year I am planning something big. Something that is bound to work. And right about now is the perfect time. But I have my finals on Friday and I should really find someone to fill in for me at work. Responsibilities dontcha know . . .

So I may as well just head to bed. Night!

Chapter Two


God I hate mornings. Don't you? The sun in your eyes, giving you a headache. Great way to start the day. It's so chilly too. I just want to stay all snuggled up in my blanket. I'm just going to rest my eyes for a little bit longer...

.......

Gah! Why didn't you wake me up? Oh right...sorry.

Guess what time it is kids? Gym time! Yay...

Today is Wednesday, so I get to teach yoga. I rather like yoga. It's great for clearing your mind. Besides, there's this guy in my class with a great bum. Really. I'd give it a 9.5. Wall to wall mirrors are awesome.

What to wear? I'm thinking black yoga pants with a lilac tank. Shows of my curves AND it's a soothing color. Perfect!

Yada yada yada. Oh look! I'm at work now. Fancy that...

Oh there's Johnny!

"Hey Johnny! Where have you been?

"Hey sweetz. I was on vacation. In Alaska."

"What? Are you nuts? What kind of person goes on vacation to Alaska? It's so cold and white and stuff."

"A few of the boys and I went hunting for bears. We had to climb mountains and track them. It was wild. You should totally go sometime babe."

"Ew. Gross. Hunting? So not for me. We should go to Hawaii this spring. Just you, Derek, Tiff, and I. What do you think?"

He's thinking about it!

"Well...that would be awfully expensive babe. Let's see what happens. No promises though ok?"

"Yessss! Just think about it okie?"

"Haha...okie. Shouldn't you be in class right about now?"

Crap!

"Yeah, yeah they need to relax some more anyways. Let's get some lunch later k?"

"Sure. Now go!"

Fine. He's right you know. I should have been in there 5 minutes ago. Oh well.

Oh there he is! The bum guy! He's wearing some awfully tight pants...I sure hope they rip. Gah! I mean don't rip.

Now shoo! I have a class to teach.


Chapter Three


I totally forgot to fill you guys in! I'm so sorry. Let's head to a flashback.

It was a cloudy, Monday morning on February 24th, 2012. The girl, Zoe, had been kept after school. Her 6th grade teacher, Mrs. Richter, was 'concerned'. She had called the girls foster parents in for a meeting. Zoe sat in a chair staring out of the window. Wondering why it wasn't HER that died. Her parents had actually been good people. Zoe had failed them. She had turned out...odd.

"Oh hello Mr. and Mrs. Jacobson. Thank you so much for coming to see me on such short notice. Please, have a seat."

The Jacobson's exchanged a glance and sat down. One on either side of Zoe.

"Is everything OK with Zoe Mrs. Richter? You sounded rather upset. But she looks fine to me."

Zoe smiled a sardonic little smile, but quickly covered her face with her hair. She'd been doing that a lot lately. Hiding...

"Mrs. Jacobson-"

"Please, call me Carly."

Teacher smiled and said,

"Thank you. Carly, your...daughter? Foster child? Look, Zoe has been having some issues in class recently. Ever since her parents passed away. I've caught her doodling in her books, on her desk, on anything she can get her hands on."

"Mrs. Richter, I don't necessarily see what is so urgent about doodling. I'm sure most children do the same thing when they are bored. I know-"

"Mrs. Jacobson, Carly, it's not the doodling that worries me. It's WHAT she is doodling. It is highly abnormal for a young girl her age. Here, let me show you."

Teacher opened a purple spiral bound notebook and handed it over to the parents.

"Oh my lord! What is this? Zoe could not have possibly drawn these things!" She turned to Zoe, grabbing her chin to force her to look her in the eyes.

"Zoe, tell me the truth, did you draw these horrible things? Answer me young lady!"

Zoe blinked. Slowly. She stared at her impostor of a mother. Her odd blue eyes turning hard, and said,

"Yes."

After all, she needn't elaborate.

Carly sat in a stunned silence and handed the notebook over to Mr. Jacobson. His name was John by the way. John Jacobson. Kind of makes you want to sing that song. You know...the one. 'John, Jacob, Jingleheimer Schmidt...'

Never mind. Back to the flashback.

Now John just looked at the doodles and blinked. Then he started to turn funny colors. Red, dark red, A kind of violet, blue...

Then he fell over. Dead from a heart attack.

Carly and Teacher started to freak out a little bit. Which is reasonable really. Carly's husband had just dropped dead. After looking at Zoe's drawings.

Zoe just sat there. Staring at Johns discolored corpse with just a smidgen of fascination.

This is how it all began.



Chapter Four


Flash forward a little ways. Six months or so. Zoe was still 12, but that little spark of fascination she had found with Mr. Jacobson had been fanned into a fire. She was obsessed more than ever with death.

Makes you wonder what those drawings were eh? Well, I'm not telling. So pfffft!

Back to the story.

Zoe had been in two different foster homes since the Jacobson's. Needless to say, Carly was not very fond of Zoe after her doodles made her husband croak.

She had spent this time doodling, reading murder stories, finding newspaper clippings about death and destruction, and planning her own demise. She wanted it to be painless, of course, and relatively quick. Not too quick, mind you. You only die once.



Interlude


Sorry. I needed a glass of lemonade. I AM the narrator you know.

So, I'm guessing this all sounds very odd to you right? Yeah...if I were you I wouldn't get it either.

After my parents died I was numb. For awhile. But I'm not one of those 'Oh poor me, my parents have died and nobody loves me' kinda gals. I'm more of a 'If you can't beat them, join them' kind of person. My plan when I was just a wee child (12), was to kill myself and live happily ever after with my parents in Heaven.

But as you have probably guessed...things didn't really go as I planned. Not at all.



Resume Chapter Four


Zoe Donatello died on March 8th, 2012. Just kidding! She did try to though. Who knew two bottles of pain killers, totaling about 120 pills, wouldn't kill a small child? Not her. She got some much needed rest though. She slept for two days. She had quite a tummy ache for the next week or so. Her foster parents’ thought she had the flu. Great parents hmmm?

But Zoe was not the kind of person that gives up at the first sign of defeat. Her motto was: If at first you don't succeed, try a different path.

And she did. Not right away of course. She needed some time to plan things out better. She needed a fault proof plan. A way that guaranteed she would succeed once and forever.


Chapter Five


Flash forward again, and please excuse the dizziness. I haven't eaten since Monday.
Cyleste is offline   Reply With Quote
Old 04-22-2008, 10:46 AM   #2
Prolific Writer
 
Wildcard's Avatar
 
Join Date: Apr 2008
Location: Temporarily residing with these lesser beings on this shithole of a planet.
Gender: Male
Posts: 242
Wildcard is on a distinguished road
1)My name is Zoe by the way. In case you didn't know [Leave out this part]. My mom said she named me Zoe because it means life, and I was the beginning of hers. Like she wasn't already 40...

2)What to wear? I'm thinking black yoga pants with a lilac tank. Shows off my curves AND it's a soothing color. Perfect!

I think what you have done is very creative. The way you tell the tale is definately unique but you should try not overdo it. Always try to keep the reader in mind. All the flashing backs and zooming fowards, first person to third person stuff could begin to get a little annoying. I found very few grammatical errors and I think it was well written. One can see that you are talented and have good imagination. Keep at it.
__________________
BORN TO BE WILD!!!
Wildcard is offline   Reply With Quote
Old 04-22-2008, 07:50 PM   #3
Member
 
Join Date: Apr 2008
Location: Mini Soda
Gender: Female
Posts: 5
Cyleste is on a distinguished road
Thank you. ^_^ I'm usually rather picky about my grammar, but I try not to go over things I write very often. I tend to get stuck on the small stuff and never move forward. I shall keep everything you said in mind.
Cyleste is offline   Reply With Quote
Old 04-22-2008, 08:15 PM   #4
Addict
 
babeonownbike's Avatar
 
Join Date: Apr 2008
Location: Canadian in Chicagoland
Gender: Female
Posts: 106
babeonownbike is on a distinguished road
You sure kept me reading ... that's a good thing! I agree with Wildcard the back and forth is slightly annoying, but it's a neat take on the story and it works.

I found it odd that Zoe refers to herself in the third person when in a flashback narration but, if you're consistent, it establishes a disconnect she likely feels so, again, it works.

Whatever you do, don't toss it out
__________________
~ Live your life so if anyone hears bad spoken of you it will not be believed ~

My BFF is thesaurus.com
babeonownbike is offline   Reply With Quote
Old 04-23-2008, 12:40 PM   #5
Member
 
Join Date: Apr 2008
Location: Mini Soda
Gender: Female
Posts: 5
Cyleste is on a distinguished road
So I attempted to finish writing it.

When I started it just flowed. Now there is silence. I think the story, or the muse, is dead.

What shall I do now? o_0
Cyleste is offline   Reply With Quote
Reply


Currently Active Users Viewing This Thread: 1 (0 members and 1 guests)
 
Thread Tools

Posting Rules
You may not post new threads
You may not post replies
You may not post attachments
You may not edit your posts

vB code is On
Smilies are On
[IMG] code is On
HTML code is Off
Trackbacks are Off
Pingbacks are Off
Refbacks are Off


All times are GMT -5. The time now is 05:21 AM.
Powered by vBulletin, Copyright ©2000-2007, Jelsoft Enterprises Ltd.
LinkBacks Enabled by vBSEO 3.1.0


 
You are NOT Logged In.
User Name:

Password



Newsletter

Subscribe to Majestic
the official newsletter of Writing Forums and lit.org
Email:


Related Links

Link to Us:
Writing Forums - Discussions for Writers