Splitstar

My first writing piece i am submitting on this board. Hope you enjoy.
It has 4 parts to it and is a dream that i had one night. I woke up crying so i knew it was good.
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Deep Sleep: A Fairytale Story

By -Doug

Mall Part 1

People are silly things. Each have their own wants and needs. Many are generally busy, very busy; busy with work, busy with school, busy with their hair and the rest of their lives. These are the type of people that happened to be at the exact same place as Dylan King.

Now Dylan King was not your ordinary fellow. He was not as fortune as the rest of the people who surrounded him, and they let him know that. They let him know by the cloths they wore and the jewelry they carried. Each took note of Dylan King and asked themselves what someone as this could be doing in a place such as a mall. The fortunate thing that Dylan King lacked was actually fortune. He had no money; none at all. He never had proper schooling and never had any caretakers that cared for him as one should. Without his one or two friends there wasn’t many who cared for Dylan King.

But today Dylan King had run up on a bit of fortune, literally. He had no idea how the money had appeared in his pocket but it was there now. He felt he had no choice but to spend it, since that is probably what the giver had wanted for his money. But as odd as it would sound, spending the money was the hard part. He had no place to spend it, even now when surrounded by stores. Because every store he went into there was always looking eyes and bright lights seemingly always focused on him. He didn’t feel comfortable around all the onlookers. They gave him the feeling he was better out on the street, and he knew he was. They avoided him at all costs and greatly scrutinized him. His old dirty cloths were no match to the name brands others wore.

Then a gap opened up in the crowd showing him his prize in a window of one of the stores. Giving up shame and though altogether he dashed in skipping rite over to it bringing it back to the cashier with a smile. He slapped the bag on the counter surprising himself with what he could do on instinct. The cashier gave him a questioning glace as to how he would pay for it. With the gesture of a hand and the acknowledging nod of his head he produced a note and slapped it on the counter. As soon as he paid for his delight he ripped into the bag of M&Ms and tasted chocolate for the first time since his youth.

Dylan King quickly ran out again into the stream of people. He felt odd munching on his M&Ms and felt the need for a drink. Remembering the drinks sitting in cooled chests back at the store he hesitated before convincing himself he could not go back there. Instead he saw another store and headed towards it not noticing the young gentleman in front of him until he bumped into him. Reeling back he looked into the face of the man who had turned around.

“Ford Velez is that you?” Dylan asked timidly. “You look good! Almost like you haven’t aged a day.”

“Hello Dylan. How are things these days?”

“Actually I’m about to spend a bit of money.”

In a mocking tone Ford responded “Ran into some I see. After all you were never good with it.”

“A bit I suppose. I don’t quite remember how really.”

“I want you to come with me; I have things to show you.” Ford began. “Its things like you will never believe. It started for me much like it will for you today.”


“What are you going on about Ford?”

“It’s a lot of explaining, how about I show you instead. Where do you want to go? Pick somewhere where you were happiest, anywhere.”

After a bit of thought Dylan responded “Heh it’s a bit of a walk to get there. But it has been a long time since I have been as happy as when we were playing outside of our old school. Do you remember Ford?”

“So be it Dylan. Now let’s get away from these people.”

Ford Velez took a coin out of his pocket and without theatrics they found their surroundings a bleak hallway from their old school.

Chris Miller

I liked this story. It reminds me of dreams I have had. I can see where the ending got to you.

You use a number of wrong words, e.g. "cloths" = "clothes" "rite" = "right"
and your grammar could be cleaner. But don't worry too much about these things yet. Clearly you have put some effort into and polish on this.

Chris

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the fairwriting blogs

Barcelona Review story: http://www.barcelonareview.com/64/e_cm.html

Wyndstar

Yep, this feels like a dream, too. I like that its conveyed as it came to you.

As Chris said, it needs some cleaning up, but it reads well and consistent so far. I await part II...

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Old enough to know better, young enough to think I can still get away with it.

gohn67

Hey Splitstar,
I'm not sure if I would have thought it to be a dream, had you not told me. But that doesn't matter, just an observation.

I wish I could remember my dreams. I always forget them after I wake up.

There is one that I had ten years ago that I still remember. I was being chased by this guy with no legs and hands for legs. I was runninng, and it seems strange to me that everytime I run in my dreams it feels like I'm running in quicksand. Pain in the butt to run in my dreams. So I run and run until I find this store and then I have to go pee. So I go to the bathroom and there's this huge clam right in the middle It's moving and his tongue is green, flailing everywhere. Saliva splashing on me. I ignore the clam, pretend it's not there and walk into the stall to take a piss. And that's it.

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Okay now that I got that off my chest. To your story.

I agree with the others that the grammar needs a bit of work.

I liked this line alot for some reason. Can't think of the word to describe why I like it. But I do like this line alot.

I think that you can avoid some of the telling in the first few paragraphs. The part that tells us all about Dylan. I think you can easily show this and I think it would be more interesting that way.

Like I would be very interested in seeing the contrast of how other's dressed compared to him. Show how they treat him so badly. What I imagined from reading this is a bunch of snobby people dressed in black tuxedos and one eye spectacles perched on their noses, half balding slicked back hair. With their chin raised up. And all of them are dressed the same except Dylan. Anyways you get the point, I hope. That that would be much more interesting to read then:

I hope this helps a bit. Your story is intrigueing though. Once you get to the part where Ford comes in the story picks up steam. And besides you left me hanging. I want to know how this ends!

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The Frowning Dog Blog

Splitstar

School Part 2

“Did you do that?”

“Well it’s more like I asked for it and it happened. I didn’t actually do it.”

“But how did you do it?”

“O simple I asked the disk to bring us here.”

Before Dylan blurted out his next question Ford began to explain. “Well it’s a bit of a long story, I know what you’re going to ask so let me start from the beginning.”

With a pause Ford continued. “It happened maybe ten years ago, it began as a dream. After my Dad died and I had to be put into the home with you, he came and told me he knew my Dad and could show him to me. I asked him to and in response he showed me the most fantastic places. None of it seemed real so I knew it was a dream.”

Gathering his thought and after checking that Dylan was still with him he went on. “But after a time I became convinced that this was real. I asked him again to see my dad after a bit of time had passed but he replied that traveling back to when my dad was alive was more difficult and it would take me time to learn. After that I stole this disk he had promised to me and began to look myself.”

Ford Velez took out the disk and showed it to him. “This is the thing I stole; I knew how to use it after I saw him take it out a few times. He said I should be careful with it and that there was a story behind it, but it works fine for me so I never looked into it.”

“So we are actually inside the old school?” interrupted Dylan.

“Yes.”

“And this is real life rite?”

“Well not really,” hesitated Ford, “truth is I don’t know.”

“Well that’s great” Dylan concluded sarcastically, “Lets find a place to sit.”

They began walking down the poorly lit corridor noticing the old nurses door open with the light on. When they passed the room a woman appeared and began screaming at them in a horse voice. The two of them jumped back startled; Dylan clenching his bag of M&Ms and Ford lashing out with his disk in an effort to ward her away.

Once they overcame their shock of her they understood she was warning them of being in this place. Ford waved his hand at her and continued down the corridor with Dylan trailing behind.

“What was that about?” Dylan spoke as soon as they reached the school lobby.

“It’s nothing” replied Ford. “Whenever you meet someone here it means that you are in their dream. This is just hers. I guess it didn’t turn out how it was meant to be.”

They did not sit there for long when they heard footsteps and turned to see a girl approaching. She was rather short and heavy for her height. Her dark hair was held in a pony tail. She did not say anything but instead was happy to see them. Her confused face turned into joy.

She came up to them and sat in one of the plush seats. Looking at one of them and then at the other her presence turned the room quiet.

“Hello” Ford finally said.

She looked at him then asked if this was their dream.

“No no.” Ford quickly responded and looked over to Dylan who shoved his eyebrows into the middle of his forehead in a confused look that showed he wanted to remain silent through the entire ordeal.

She looked over at Dylan and smiled commenting his beard.

“Thanks.” he said “I haven’t had a chance to shave it.” Being startled out of his silence he added. “Since we haven’t been properly introduced I am Dylan King and my friend is Ford Velez.”

Ford gave an affirming nod.

Feeling out of place she responded. “My name is Mary Miller.”

“Why are you here Mary?” asked Ford.

“I don’t know” she replied. “The one who took me here disappeared. I am glad I found you.”

With that sentence the scenery they were use to changed again.

Splitstar

Im working on the revisions that you all have brought up. I see where my writing needs work in.

Till then.
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Planes Guns and Girls Part 3

“Great where are we now?” asked Mary without pausing from her last sentence. The rest seemed baffled and looked around them.

In response The Big Voice said that they were with her. And then continued by saying she took care of this reality and finished by bragged about her power.

“Umm excuse me Miss, but who are you?” asked Ford.

“I am Deborah, but many call me the big voice.” She replied as she stepped from behind a brightly colored pillar in the large pink and red room. “I am in reality a teacher, but unlike everyone else’s dream I am cursed in mine. I teach kids that just don’t get it. Not a word, they don’t get a single word.”

“But why are we here?” interrupted Ford.

“Why?... O yea that’s rite. Because there are rules here and you should know them before you get yourself hurt. Well really one big rule. Basically you can’t wish your own dream, otherwise bad things happen.” Cutting off Ford before he could speak she continued. “Here. Go to that wall. All of the desire and hopes that we have are categorized there, choose one. It’s safer then wishing one yourself.”

Without question they went to the large red wall.

“Which one looks good to you?” asked Ford of Dylan.

“Doesn’t matter, they all look like slips of paper with descriptions of them to me.” He answered back.

“How about this one?” called Mary Miller. Rite after she spoke the words on the wall changed to large sheets of metal and the roof domed above them. Two large doors appeared at both ends.

“Wow nice job Mary. Now we are in an aircraft hanger. Too bad all the aircraft are toys.”

As they looked out into the vast hanger they saw that he was rite. The space was littered with miniature un-proportional toy aircraft. Their bodies were funny as they were too large for their wings and they all were bright colors. Red wings on blue bodies, yellow stripes on purple planes. Each was propeller driven.

Quickly Ford jumped into a plane, having always been fascinated by these machines he felt right at home. And as soon as he did he was taken up thousands of feet into a dogfight. Muzzles flashed and planes did almost impossible dives to avoid enemy plans and bullet while planes followed in pursuit rite until their engines stalled. He was about to grab the controls when he felt himself being shaken and saw the face of Dylan.

“Wha! Why did you do that?” Ford shouted.

“You looked unconscious there for a minuet. Anyway looks around you.” Dylan protested against Fords want to go back to the fight. “Look down there at those men working on the planes. They all have swastikas and all these planes do to.”

“So who cares? Being a Nationalist Socialist isn’t that bad” Ford said emphasizing that.

Mary interrupted. “This is someone’s goal from the 40’s probably. One of those German Youths I guess.”

“The who? Look talk to me after I finish with this.” With that Ford huddled himself in the cockpit looking unconscious again.

“Ford!” shouted Dylan. “I wana get out of here shaking him awake again.”

“Why? I want to stay here.”

“Look my Dad died in WWII. To me all Nazis are just murderers.”

“Hey I resent that!” shouted Ford. “I’m German.”

“No not Germans, just dumb Nazis!”

With that the men working on the planes began to walk over with clenched fists.

“Ford lets go.” pleaded Mary.

“No he responded. I’m never leaving, ever. This is my dream now.”

With desperation in his voice Dylan said. “Ask me to go someone place. Ask me to go were I was happiest!”

“I can’t Dylan” Ford said coolly. “I can’t because I am happiest now.” With that he returned to the cockpit and resumed his peaceful look.

“Ugh Dylan…”

“Ya Mary?”

“I think we better run now”