Order of the Eye: Three Students.


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Thread: Order of the Eye: Three Students.

  1. #1

    Order of the Eye: Three Students.

    I've always liked to write and plan out grand worlds, but last month I was inspired to write a full short-story, at just under 5,000 words. It's the most I've ever written, and I planned to enter it for a short story competition that had a max at 5,000 words. But now I'm not sure if it's original enough. The background to the world I've imagined is original, but as I wrote this with an eye to being a short story, I had to be incredibly vague with anything that distracted from the progression of the plot.

    Anywho, I found this forum via google, and was hoping that I could post some or all of it here and see what others think of it. Might be a bit steep to post a near 5,000 word story in one go though, so I'll just post one section of it for now:

    Order of the Eye: Three Students
    A boy with nightmares is not overly uncommon perhaps, but few dream about the Eye. The boy of this tale however, had seen it every night for a month. The eye would grow and stare all the more as each new night came. It never failed to disturb him.

    As the boy was awoken in the morning, he felt ill, he felt queasy, and he felt drained, but his mother was quite old-fashioned. The boy would have to have an arm hanging off before she would concede that it would be inappropriate for him to go to school.

    He arrived late, and the first period had already started. It was to his luck that the period was with the nice and laid back teacher, who made nothing of it. The boy did not feel like socialising that day. He went off to his own table and sat alone, ignoring the calls from his friends for him to join them. He did nothing of any particular importance throughout the lesson.
    As the time wore on, the classroom seemed to grow colder to him, and the queasiness of the morning was stirring once more. He did his best to simply ignore it. He stood up to go fetch some colouring pencils, but blacked out on his way. He was dragged back up onto his feet by his peers and sent to the school nurse with a friend.

    The nurse’s door was flung open from the other side and the boy was greeted by the sight of an old, decrepit, and severely wrinkled woman. God help the children in the younger years of his school, she’d probably give them nightmares. The clothes didn’t help much either. A black dress down to the ankles, black shoes, dark tights, black top, and a black cardigan. Anyone would’ve thought she was heading for a funeral. “Come in, come in! My you do look ill indeed! You’re so pale!!!” She said. “Quickly, you sit down on the chair my boy!”

    As she sat down at her desk, her focus suddenly shifted to the boy’s friend, “What are you doing sitting down with him?! Your friend is clearly here safe and sound, back off to class with you! You wouldn’t take advantage of your friend’s bad state-of-health to miss a lesson now would you???” she asked.
    “No, of course not, just wasn’t sure if I was meant to stay and help or something.” He stammered slightly, the nurse’s harshness had made him feel uneasy.
    “Help with what!? Lifting the poor boy onto a stretcher? Poppycock! Now back off to your class!” She seemed to be in a rush to get rid of him.
    “Bye then! Have fun with the witch, George!” As he turned to run off back to class, George saw the nurse scour and heard her mutter something under her breath.

    She turned her head back to George and put on a smile, with outstretched hands on her desk. Her fingernails were yellow and rotted it seemed. “So, George, what may I ask happened?”
    “Well, I blacked out in class.” As he replied, he noticed her eyes widen.
    “Hmm, noticed anything strange lately???” she asked.
    “Well, not really...”
    She stroked her chin slightly. It had a mole with a few long grey hairs sprouting out of it. “Tell me, George, how long have you been having nightmares???”
    “Umm, and you know that I’ve been having nightmares, how exactly? And what’s that got to do with a blackout?”
    “I believe I am asking the questions! Tell me, what was this dream about?” George frowned as he tried to think of a way to explain it, but the nurse was impatient, “Out with it boy!”
    “Well, it’s basically just an eye I suppose.” The nurse seemed intrigued. “I’ve been seeing it every night for a while now, every time it seems like it’s slightly bigger. What, do you think the blackout was caused by a physiological problem or something? I don’t have a screw loose or nothing like that.” The nurse simply smiled and continued staring. She was silent and motionless. “Er...Nurse?” George asked uneasily. With her eyes still fixed on him, she picked up the phone on her desk. “I have the boy...” she paused and gestured with her hand at George to come over.

    He was alarmed, and the continuous eye contact of the nurse did not help to calm him. He got up and made his way over to the phone, slowly taking it out of the nurse’s hand, worrying she was going to suddenly wrap her yellow claws around his arm at any moment. “...Hello?” George said nervously.
    “Hello, dear child!” said the voice. It was a woman.
    George’s eyes darted to the nurse, who went to shut the door, “Just keeping the cold out boy, back to your phone call!”
    “Who... Who are you, exactly?”George asked down the phone with suspicion.
    “It is complicated child, very complicated.” The voice let out a short, high pitched giggle.
    “Are you a stalker or something?”
    “Heavens no! I am your mentor of course!”
    “Mentor? What for?”
    “Why, for your gift of course! All will be explained in due time. I’ll see you soon!”
    “Well, this was a constructive phone call....” The other end had already been put down.

    “George, you must come with me to the front gate, where you will be picked up by your new mentor.” The nurse said.
    “What do you mean ‘picked up’?”She did not bother answering, as it was pretty obvious. George continued, “... So a strange woman I don’t know is coming to take me in her car and potentially drive me off a cliff, and I am meant to go along with the idea because she’s apparently my ‘mentor’, for a subject that I haven’t even been informed and that requires me to leave the school grounds?”
    The nurse sighed, “Well, if you must see things that way... Get back to your class then, boy.” The door was slammed behind him as he left, making him jump. George had no intention of going back to class, he was determined to escape the school grounds and get to the safety of his home. He tried to phone his mother from his mobile, but to no success, as she didn’t answer. He would have to get home by foot.

    As he turned into the next road, George sped up, hoping to escape something that he was not even fully aware of. With a flash, his sight faded, he collapsed to the floor, and his brain boiled from the inside to the out. His unconscious body was carried away by a blue, old fashioned 1961 Bentley.

    ------------------------------------------
    EDIT: I copy and pasted the story from a microsoft word document. It was seperated into paragraphs, but it seems all formatting has completely disappeared :p Apologies if it's hard to read.
    Last edited by InsanityStrickenWriter; January 11th, 2011 at 07:22 PM. Reason: Putting spaces between paragrpahs

  2. #2
    Member christianncg's Avatar
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    Hello there friend, saw that you wrote a critique for my work so i though i would return the favor. )
    Before i start, i just wanna say that these are just opinions, and your welcome to do as you please with your writing.

    The good: My interest was caught during the end, with me being curious as to what his gift was. The story flowed quite nicely, although i noticed some unnecessary words along the way. There seems to be a good amount of room to work with when developing the story further, which is also a good thing.

    Now... The Not So Good, or needs work:

    A boy with nightmares is not overly uncommon perhaps, but few dream about the Eye.
    The first sentence in a story is key to grabbing the readers attention, and drawing their interest as well as striking their curiosity. I would think about revising this to something with more... pizazz, but also something that introduces the boy as George, and not just boy. maybe start off with dreaming?

    The eye slowly grew as it gazed upon George's every move, watching him run aimlessly to try to get away.
    As for the rest of the story, go through it and try to get into more depth when it comes to actions and details of places and characters. make it so that i can be in his place, and see the details myself in my imagination. if you need examples, don't hesitate to ask

    Overall good job on your first big piece

  3. #3
    First, this story might be better in first tense. Next, you are writing everything from a outside perspective in third past tense, but why? It's mainly about the same guy. Try to actually write a story and stay away from one line actions.

    As the time wore on, the classroom seemed to grow colder to him, and the queasiness of the morning was stirring once more. He did his best to simply ignore it. He stood up to go fetch some colouring pencils, but blacked out on his way. He was dragged back up onto his feet by his peers and sent to the school nurse with a friend. (Stop labeling he as introductions to your sentences)
    As time passed by, the classroom grew colder, the queasiness of the morning stirred. “Enter Name” did his best to simply ignore it, how he would go and fetch some coloring pencils “more description like every afternoon?” ,only to black out mid-way. This one time, he was dragged all the way to the school nurse by his peers, "You could end this here, or comma <---and add more description, exc.)
    Last edited by Johnathanrs; January 11th, 2011 at 03:17 PM.

  4. #4
    First off, thanks for the replies, was worried that I wouldn't get any
    Quote Originally Posted by christianncg View Post
    The first sentence in a story is key to grabbing the readers attention, and drawing their interest as well as striking their curiosity. I would think about revising this to something with more... pizazz, but also something that introduces the boy as George, and not just boy. maybe start off with dreaming?
    Tbh, what happened with the start of my story was a huge re-edit. Orignally there was no nightmares but rather a peculiarity with his laptop (I won't go into detail). When the plotline changed I went back and chopped out most of the beggining, then I chopped the rest of it when I realised I was over the word limit (5000) lol. I like the idea of starting off from the dream itself, so I'll work with that

    As for the rest of the story, go through it and try to get into more depth when it comes to actions and details of places and characters. make it so that i can be in his place, and see the details myself in my imagination. if you need examples, don't hesitate to ask
    Ah, that's a big problem of mine. I can visualise what I'm writing about perfectly, but I don't like describing it. Not because I can't but because I worry the reader will tune out or think I'm going into too much detail. I'll work on it though.

  5. #5
    Quote Originally Posted by Johnathanrs View Post
    First, this story might be better in first tense. Next, you are writing everything from a outside perspective in third past tense, but why? It's mainly about the same guy. Try to actually write a story and stay away from one line actions.
    Funny you should say that. I started a second short story at the beginning of the month, currently at about 1,600 words. I'm writing that one in first tense, and it seems to really suit my writing style. It allows me to add a great deal more humour.

    As the time wore on, the classroom seemed to grow colder to him, and the queasiness of the morning was stirring once more. He did his best to simply ignore it. He stood up to go fetch some colouring pencils, but blacked out on his way. He was dragged back up onto his feet by his peers and sent to the school nurse with a friend. (Stop labeling he as introductions to your sentences)
    As time passed by, the classroom grew colder, the queasiness of the morning stirred. “Enter Name” did his best to simply ignore it, how he would go and fetch some coloring pencils “more description like every afternoon?” ,only to black out mid-way. This one time, he was dragged all the way to the school nurse by his peers, "You could end this here, or comma <---and add more description, exc.)
    This part was subject to a lot of cutting if I'm honest. The word count axe fell greatest on the beginning of the story I have about 100 words spare now though, so I'll rewrite it with your suggestions.

  6. #6
    Chapter Two
    George slowly crept out of unconsciousness, finding himself lying across the backseat of the car that he had last seen. He had an inclination to scream something, the word ‘help’ came to mind, except he was too weak to utter it.

    In front of George sat a second boy, who was the same age as him. The boy had blonde hair, blue eyes, and wore a black hoody and a pair of tracksuit trousers. Next to him, in the driving seat, was a woman. She looked like she was in her fifties, with brown curly hair topped by an extravagant pink hat with flowers sticking out of it. She was clothed in a furry pink suit.

    “Did you do something to him or what?” the boy in front said.
    Glancing at the mirror into the back of the car, the woman replied, “Well, I planned to knock him out of course, but this was not my doing.”
    “Well what’s wrong with him then?”
    “Who can say? I suppose he passed out. He’ll wake up soon enough I should think.”She slowed the car, and looked through the mirror. Her eyes glinted slightly, and moments later she pulled over to the edge of the road and stopped the car.

    She spoke slowly and clearly, “I am no fool, Mr. Wilkins. You are conscious now, child! Sit up and speak!” George wasn’t sure what to do, “Time is of the essence child. Get up.” George started to pull himself upright, but he still had his eyes shut, “The eyes child, the eyes! Open them!” He slowly peeled his eyelids apart, millimetre by millimetre, until he could see the woman’s face, and a small, false smile appear upon it. “Now was that so difficult?” The boy in the front let out a relieved laugh, “Good to see you awake mate, you had me worrying! My name’s Tom. What’s yours?” George was silent for a second; he was still staring at the woman, she had the same voice as the person he had spoke to on the telephone, “Yeah, she can be a bit unnerving, but hey, what kind of teacher isn’t?”
    George snapped out of it, “Err, right yeah...I’m George ... Is she...The woman I spoke to on the telephone?”
    She cut in, “Indeed I am Mr. Wilkins. Please address me as either Miss or Ms. Rose. I am aware that you will have no idea what is going on, and I assure you that I shall explain in due course, though for now I shall simply say... Welcome! Welcome to the Order of the Eye. Mr. Wakefield may be able to provide some insight, though I worry if he is suitable for teaching anything...” she let out another short chuckle, like the one she did down the phone.
    “Seriously, I’ve just been kidnapped by you, and you’re trying to welcome me into god knows what, with a side of casual banter?"

    Tom laughed, and then quickly wiped the smile off his face before he got into trouble. “I do not like being talked back to, Mr. Wilkins! In future, I will presume you shall show more respect for your superiors?” However valid George’s point was, she was good at making people feel small, and George could only find one word, “Sorry...”
    “We shall carry on then! I expect you both to remain silent for the remaining duration of the journey, I do not wish to be distracted while driving” The car moved back onto the road, and a clueless George wondered where it was heading.

    It must have been three, maybe four o’clock in the afternoon, when the car came to a sudden stop, jolting both George and Tom out of their uneasy sleep. They had stopped outside a house. Rubbing his eyes, Tom asked, “What are we doing?”
    “Why, I am collecting my third student of course! I cannot teach a mere two students!” Ms Rose replied.
    “By ‘collecting’, I assume you mean kidnap, right?” George asked.
    Ms. Rose was agitated, “Silence! You shall keep your judgement on my actions to yourself until you have had the situation explained, you foolish child!” She composed herself, “Besides, Mr. Wakefield came by the will of his parents, and the student we are picking up now called the Order herself. Though, I concede, her parents may cause...complications.” She paused and grabbed her handbag, taking out a pink mobile. She was looking for any new messages, and frowned as she failed to find any.

    Not so far away, sitting alone on her bed and staring at her bedroom door, was a girl who was also the same age as George. She was slim, had long, silky, brown hair, and was clearly dressed for going out. She was wearing jeans and a clingy, white, plain top, with a heavy jacket over it. A touch of incomprehensible arguing could be heard coming up through the floor. She heard a sudden shatter, and naturally assumed that it was her phone being smashed to pieces by her parents. Tears were gradually rolling down her face and smudging her carefully prepared image.

    Three knocks came at the front door and with it the sudden cease to her parents’ noise. The girl wanted to run to it as fast as her feet could take her, but her bedroom door had been locked from the outside. To her disappointment, her parents refused to answer the front door. Three more knocks came, they were louder this time, and a certain sense of anger was woven in with them, it was ignored yet again. A third set of knocks came at the door. Loud enough to shake the house and reduce the parents to utter terror. They continued their refusal to open it, they were perfectly aware that this person wanted to take their daughter away from them. The father crept into the hallway and armed himself with an umbrella standing next to the door, and backed up to the beginning of the staircase, where he stood guard. His wife watched from the doorway of the lounge, on the edge of a panic attack.

    All was still for a second, before an almighty explosion hit the door. It stood there for a second, smoke bellowing out of its sides, and then collapsed by the father’s feet. And in the doorway, as brazen a woman you’ll ever see, stood an amused Ms. Rose. She broke the silence, “Come now, surely you did not think ignoring the door would make me go away? I am here to welcome my third student. Would either of you happen to know where she is? Locked away somewhere I presume?”
    The parents stood stunned for a few seconds, before the father snapped out of it. “Get out! You have no right to come here and steal my daughter! I’ll call the police if I have too!” he shouted.
    Ms. Rose stood there for a second and giggled. “You are perfectly aware that the police shall not work. Even if I did let you call them, I would be long gone by the time they got here. Now, Mr. Bellamy I presume, I would like to see your daughter. Be a dear and go fetch her for me!”
    “No! Leave my precious Amelia alone! We are her parents, and it is our right to decide whether or not she becomes a freak, which she will not!” Amelia’s mother said.

    Ms. Rose turned her head round to face Amelia’s mother, and gave her a look filled with hate. “So intent on ruining the gift of others, are you? First your husband and now you wish it on poor Amelia as well? What is it, jealousy? Do you wish to spoil the fact that not everyone is pathetic, ungifted, simpletons?!” Every word was laced with spite. Amelia’s father opened his mouth to defend his wife, but he could find no words. Ms. Rose turned back to him and flared her eyes. He swiftly stepped aside and allowed her to go up, putting an arm around his sobbing, humiliated wife.

    Amelia could hear footsteps approaching. She anxiously waited for Ms. Rose to reach her door. The footsteps stopped, and the handle was turned, but the door did not open, her parents still had the key. Light blasted through the edges, and the door collapsed, allowing Ms. Rose to step inside. Ms. Rose smiled, “Welcome to the order, Ms. Bellamy. I have gone to a lot of effort for you dear. Now come on, let us get out of this depressing little house.” She extended a hand to her, and Amelia grabbed it and was walked down the stairs. Ms. Rose stayed silent and allowed her parents to give Amelia a goodbye hug, they had no idea if they'd be allowed to see her again. Amelia’s mother gave her daughter a kiss on the forehead, and then let her go. She dared not try and stand in Ms. Rose’s way. As she left the house, Amelia wasn’t sure whether to feel happy or sad. She was gently led into the car by Ms. Rose, and was driven off while her parents stood in the doorway, in tears. George and Tom were silent.
    Last edited by InsanityStrickenWriter; January 11th, 2011 at 06:34 PM.

  7. #7
    Member christianncg's Avatar
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    Reading it now..

  8. #8
    Member christianncg's Avatar
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    Not bad.. still a little hard to read. might wanna put spaces in between paragraphs. thats the only big thing i noticed so far.

  9. #9
    Quote Originally Posted by christianncg View Post
    Not bad.. still a little hard to read. might wanna put spaces in between paragraphs. thats the only big thing i noticed so far.
    Eh, same thing that happened with the first. I copy and paste it from microsoft word, and as soon as I post it the spaces between paragraphs disappear lol. I'll go through it now to put the spaces in manually.

  10. #10
    Hello -
    I really liked your story so far and I'm anticipating the next part. I was wondering who your intended audience is? That's just a general question. The only comment I wanted to make is regarding your use of adjectives. I think you use too many to describe the same thing and you should intersperse them throughout the story.

    For example:
    Not so far away, sitting alone on her bed and staring at her bedroom door, was a girl who was also the same age as George. She was slim, had long, silky, brown hair, and was clearly dressed for going out. She was wearing jeans and a clingy, white, plain top, with a heavy jacket over it. A touch of incomprehensible arguing could be heard coming up through the floor. She heard a sudden shatter, and naturally assumed that it was her phone being smashed to pieces by her parents. Tears were gradually rolling down her face and smudging her carefully prepared image.
    In this graph you use 3 adjectives to describe one thing - long, silky, brown hair; clingy, white, plain top.
    You tell us that she was dressed to go out but then you tell us exactly what she was wearing. Maybe you can describe her clothing and features while giving us some action, something that tells us a little bit about the character and her current state of mind.

    For instance, maybe instead of saying:
    "She was wearing jeans and a clingy, white, plain top, with a heavy jacket over it," you could tell us something about her, such as..."She fiddled with the zipper of her heavy jacket. She didn't know if she was going to get out of the house, but she was certainly going to try. In her jeans and t-shirt,she was ready to jump out the window if she had to."

    Just a suggestion for spots to watch. Good story!
    "and when we speak we are afraid
    our words will not be heard, nor welcomed
    but when we are silent we are still afraid
    So it is better to speak, remembering
    we were never meant to survive"
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