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Desolate, Chapter 1 (2083 Series) (1 Viewer)

Jamaal

Senior Member
Hey! I know... I just joined today. And if its too early to be throwing something up here, my apologies.

I had a dream a month ago, and I am writing the dream in a series of shorts I have named 2083. I have completed the first chapter, however feel it needs some trimming. So, please trim, and crit away :)

Thank you.

“I love you daddy”, Jillians’ sweet 4 year old voice brought a smile to Grants face, how could he not smile. “Be good tonight for mommy, and go right to bed.” Smiling again kissed Jillian on the cheek and gave her a hug from an awkward crouching position. It’s not easy for a man of 6 foot 2 inches to get down to the height of a 4 year old, but when you love them it doesn’t matter how hard it is on you knees or back. Standing now, bent close and kissed his wife, Sarah, good night, “I love you too” he whispered, she reciprocated with a kiss. “How late are you going to be again?” Sarah asked, even though they had just talked about it, she needed the reassurance that Grant had a plan to be home from the game at a reasonable time . “Sweetie” Grant started, “I already told you I shouldn’t be later than midnight.” “The game is over at 10-ish, and by the time I get back to the car and make It out of Toronto...” Grant trailed off, seeing Sarahs’ face changing from concern to one of understanding. “Okay, Daddy Loves you all!” Grant said cheerfully, tussling Jillians’ blond hair in one hand and giving Sarah another quick peck. With that Grant zipped up his jacket, checked for keys and cell phone, pat-pat, checking his pockets trying to rid himself of that feeling of forgetting something he usually gets when he’s walking out the door. With a final “good night” he opened the door and stepped out into the hallway of their town house complex. Before he could reach into his pocket to grab his house key Sarah was closing the door, “Don’t worry I will lock it” she said. Grant dropped a quick, “thank you”, turned and headed out the hallway door. “Ahhhh,” Grant stopped for a brief moment at the top of the two steps up to the hallway he had just come from. Spring was finally here, he took a deep breath, the March air was cool and crisp, yet smelled of that fresh spring sort of cleanly breeze, it was nice decided Grant, and he started down the stairs to his car. Walking briskly to his parking spot where Gretta their family vehicle sat parked, Grant thought of how long it had been since he had spent much time with his best friend Nick. It had been months since Grant and nick had even spoken. Last time they spoke, there wasn’t much speaking and a fair amount of yelling. A couple of months ago Nick had started a renovation business, a smart and popular move for a carpenter, had taken on a few too many projects and had asked Grant, who needed some extra cash, if he would work for him renovating a basement. Grant didn’t think twice before accepting. Soon, however, they were at each others throats, not a week had gone by and Grant just couldn’t work for Nick. They had not spoken until last week when they had a great conversation on the phone and Nick invited Grant to a game in Toronto that coming week. After both apologizing they agreed to meet outside the Rogers center downtown Toronto the night of the game. Now at the car, Grant opened his door and got in. Looking up at the sky remembered Sarah saying something to the effect of, “drive safe... blah blah.... calling for thundershowers tonight... blah blah”, letting out a brief chuckle at himself for actually thinking the words “blah blah”, not that he was an insensitive man, its just easier than not remembering what was said in between. “Doesn’t look too bad,” he quietly said, although the sky was overcast, and dark now, he affirmed again, “thundershowers... sure”, a little sarcastically. He started the car and pulled out of the parking spot.
Grant played with the radio the whole way, he was irritated by the fact that there was nothing good on any of the radio stations, you would think that at least there would be some good music on his favourite rock station, but even that disappointed him for the past forty-five minutes. Frustrated he pushed the tuning knob and the radio went silent. It was hard to hear anything over the pouring rain pounding on the windshield, and the swhish-shwoosh of the wiper blades trying to grant some him visibility. Grant sat a little straighter than he usually does, straining to see out the windows, trying to get a glimps of the sign for his off ramp from the highway. The Don Valley Park way was a sneaky and treacherous three lane highway into the heart of Toronto. On the clearest of days it was a dangerous winding rollercoaster with speed limits of only 90 kilometres per hour for a reason. CRACK! a bolt of lightning hit somewhere near by, less than a click anyway. BOoomooom, thunder rolled away through the air. “AHA!” grant exclaimed as he saw the Richmond St. exit, a little late but better than never, he moved over to the exiting lane. Just as he began to slow down, Grant saw something out of the corner of his left eye, something getting larger, coming towards the car. Time began to slow, and his gut began to wrench as he realised that a transport truck was also moving over, into where his car now was driving in the one lane off ramp. BEEP BEEP! Grants fist found the horn easily, “Don’t YOU SEE ME?!!?” Grant shouted as though the driver of the semi could hear him. Nearing the end of the opportunity for the truck to move over it made one final swerve crashing into the side of the car, pushing it into the guard rail. Never before had Grant seen steel bend as though it were thin pieces of paper, in slow motion he watched, thrashed around his car as a rag doll tossed around. The car crashed through the rail and barely missing a lamp post spun through the air and splashed into the Don Valley River. Grant slowly regained his senses as the water rushed into the car with a wrenched hissing. Looking at the door he knew what he had to do, he had to wait for the car to fill up with water before he could open it, the pressure of the water trying to get in would be far to great to fight against. For a brief moment he remembered he had learned that from a movie, irrelevant what movie, and everybody said I would never learn anything useful from a movie, he thought. Trying to slow his breathing to prepare for his last breath, the water now to his chest he undid his seatbelt and took his last breath. Bracing his lower back against the center console and grabbing at the door handle with is hand he pushed the door open with is legs. Out of the car he swam, already feeling the lack of air from his exertion while getting the door open he tried to guess at which way was up. Hoping the car was not upside down he manuvered onto the roof of the car and again pushed off with all his strength. Stretching one arm after the other into the cold darkness, fear began to set in that he was swimming the wrong way, panic gripped his throat and lungs begging the air to escape and leave him. Some air escaped his mouth, was this to be his grave he wondered. As he watched the renegade air float away, it came to him FOLLOW THE AIR! With new hope he kicked his legs and bore down on the water stroke after stroke, until he felt the tips of his fingers hit the air first, then his hand, and milliseconds later his face broke through into the now cold crisp march air. Pitch black, pouring rain, Grant couldn’t make out which side the highway was on, but he could see the river bank not twenty feet from him, so he swam, with all he had left, he swam. Reaching the bank he dragged himself onto all fours and up onto the muddy side, surely someone would rescue him soon enough he thought. Lodging himself up on a trunk of a tree growing out over the river he rested his face against the mud, and closed his eyes. Soon, he thought, soon someone will wake me and take me home.
 

isaiah

Senior Member
So here is my take on this:

First of all, I wonder if your first language is English. I assume it isn't, because there are several simple grammatical errors I noticed right away. I'll admit I didn't read a lot of the middle, mostly due to the grammar mistakes. It was hard to follow when I had to figure out tense and verb agreement in my head as I read.

Other than that, it seems to be an interesting story with good potential. You really do need to run this through a word processor and fix all the small errors. Things like "Jillians'" should be "Jillian's" for example. And some sentences I don't think have a subject at all. If you need help with grammar/English, I'm sure there are people that would love to help you here. I as well, will do what I can to help, although I am no grammar expert.

Keep writing, and be diligent in your endeavor. Once again, this has very good potential. However, you do need to proofread this before moving on I would say. Good luck!
 

Jamaal

Senior Member
Thank you for your candid and honest "take" :)

You are sort of right, I guess its obvious, I have two languages that I have spoken from childhood, English and Arabic. As you can tell I struggle with the grammatical labyrinth that is English. FYI I use the spell check close to 10000000 times per paragraph. It would be total anarchy if I didn't.
The whole "Jillians" vs. "Jillian's" I don't understand... I recollect reading something, once upon a time, that if its possessive and not short for "Jillian is" then it is to be written as "Jillians'"... any idea about that? I don't mind being corrected, better late than never. :)
 

Kirra

Senior Member
Thank you for your candid and honest "take" :)

You are sort of right, I guess its obvious, I have two languages that I have spoken from childhood, English and Arabic. As you can tell I struggle with the grammatical labyrinth that is English. FYI I use the spell check close to 10000000 times per paragraph. It would be total anarchy if I didn't.
The whole "Jillians" vs. "Jillian's" I don't understand... I recollect reading something, once upon a time, that if its possessive and not short for "Jillian is" then it is to be written as "Jillians'"... any idea about that? I don't mind being corrected, better late than never. :)

English grammar is a labyrinth :) And native speakers often think we understand it, until we try to explain it to someone who isn't a native speaker.

I'll try to explain the Jillian thing. In English, when you're making a word possessive, it is usually 's. However, if the word already ends in s, then it is s'. So, Jillian would be Jillian's, but Thomas already ends in s, so it would be Thomas'. Does that make sense?
 
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