David looks up through the leaves of the oak trees to the full moon hanging in the empty sky above.  He looks at the blood on his hands and chest and tears drop down his face like the rain all around him.  He raises the gun up to his head and his trembling finger pulls the trigger.

A Shot runs out through the eerie, empty forest.



David walks through the inky black night, on his way to a party, even though he isn’t in the partying mood.  He isn’t a very partying person.  He’s one of those silent kids that sits in the back row, never really paying much attention, so he wonders why he had been invited.  He finally reaches the building where the party is located.  Popular music blasts out of the house.  David walks up the steps to the front door, and walks through.  Kids are dancing on the dance floor, but David goes up to the refreshment table and grabs a soda.  He sits down and stares off into space, sipping his coke.  A voice shatters his daydream, “Hey.”  It’s a girl with dark brown hair and beautiful blue eyes.  “Uh, hi,” David answers awkwardly.

        “Why aren’t you dancing?”
        “Um, I don’t know how to dance.”
        “You’re kidding.”
        “If you don’t know how to dance, then why did you come?”
        “I don’t kn-“
He gets cut off by her dragging him by the arm to the dance floor.  “I’ll teach you to slow dance.” She says with a dazzling smile.
He danced with her for the rest of the night.


David opens the door to his house, thinking about the girl he met at the dance.  He shuts the door behind him. “David! Why are you home so fucking late?” A voice yells. His father.

“Sorry Dad,” David mumbles, trudging through the beer cans littered all over the floor.
“Don’t ‘sorry’ me!” He roars from the couch and throws an half empty beer can at David. Beer spews all over him,
“Jeez,” David mumbles quietly, but not quietly enough.  David’s father gets up and punches him in the stomach, knocking the wind out of him, making his fall over.  The Tears well up in David’s eyes and spill down his face.
“You fucking crybaby!” David’s father sneers and stomps on his stomach, making David turning around to throw up.  “Oh! You got my carpet dirty!” He says and kicks David’s head, which pushes it into the vomit.
“Daddy!” someone’s voice yells.
“No! back upstairs, Victoria!” David croaks.  David’s father turns around to face his daughter.
“And why are you up so fucking late? Get back in your fucking bed, bitch! You too David after you clean up your mess,” He barks and sits back on the sofa.  David picks himself up, takes off his shirt and wipes his face off.  When he cleans the carpet, he drags himself to bed and he falls on his bed.
He cries himself to sleep.


David wakes up, his eyes sore.  He drags himself out of his bed and gets ready for his long day ahead of him.  In the kitchen with his Yoplait in his hand, he thinks of how his father had called Victoria a bitch.  He had never called her that before.  David crushes his yogurt cup in his hand, spilling it all over the floor.  David reaches down and picks it up, tears welling in his eyes.  He swipes them out of his eyes, hoping his father would not tell that he had been crying.  His father has a sort of ‘sixth sense’ when it comes to things he does not like.  He always takes out any of the anger he has on David, and when he’s drunk, which is most of the time, it is even worse.  As he cleans up the yogurt, he daydreams about having a real dad.  The man smiles.  His eyes are filled with love and joy for his son.  He wraps his arms around the boy and ruffles his hair.  The boy laughs and squirms around when his father tickles him…

“What the hell is wrong with you?  You have to be at school in half an hour!”  David’s father’s rough voice says.  David mumbles a response and walks out the door, grabbing his backpack on the way.
In class, David listens to his iPod, not caring about the lesson.  He closes his eyes and sighs, wishing he could be dead, or wishing his life could turn around.  It seemed, to David, that he fucks up everything.  It was HIS fault that his parents split...because his father had broken his arm when he was drunk, and David had told his mother that he didn’t actually fall off a ladder, but that his father did it.  She had left, and when she was leaving the house, she died in a car accident.  Then David’s father began to drink and he blamed everything on David.  David begins to cry silently in class.  Someone turns around in the chair and looks at him with an odd expression.  What is their problem?  Why don’t they see if I’m okay? David thinks.  He raises his hand and asks to go out of the room.  The bell rings, as it read his mind, and David runs out of the classroom.

In the lunchroom, David sits down, and thinks about how much he wants to be happy, and to have another life.  He thinks about the feeling he has when he goes home…the fear that his dad will go too far when he hits Victoria…the thought of losing his sister is too much to bear.

rayers   rayers wrote
on 11/19/2012 10:05:39 AM
You have the start of what could potentially be a good novel. Chapter One gets off to a good start. A possible romance. However, I don't know the girl's name. I don't know what she looks like. "It’s a girl with dark brown hair and beautiful blue eyes" is a weak discription. Improve on this. The couple danced all night. But how does David feel about this girl. What feelings does she evoke in him? There is definite conflict here between father and son. That's good. Conflict leads to action which is what you have in Chapter Two. This is good. The dad is definitely a bad guy. Chapter Three slows your story down because it is all introspective. I would suggest some sort of dramatic conflict in this chapter that will produce action. Finally: You open with a prologue. However, your prologue is ending. I know what happens to David before I get to the end. Therefore when you get to the end, the ending will be anti-climatic. I hope I've been helpful. Keep at it young man. WORD!

Elton4562   Elton4562 wrote
on 3/1/2012 8:56:43 AM
I like this, but would like to make one suggestion to be helpful, not to be offensive. Use the active voice in your writing and write mainly in the past tense. Example from your last paragraph: In the lunchroom, David SAT down and thought about how much he wants to be happy and to have another life. He THOUGHT about the feeling he has when he goes home........... Writing in the present tense if very difficult and can be distracting to the reader. Best wishes, Elton

Novel / Novella
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Rating: 8.0/10

a novel idea... better then my other pieces (i think).
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