# I'm Fine.



## Blue (Mar 27, 2016)

I did this as a sort of writing exercise, and, I swear I tried so hard to make it short but, alas, I failed again. Any kind of critique is welcome, I need a lot of help. Thanks for reading! 
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The wind howled, loud and low, pounding against the window and rattling the old frames. Teddy jumped awake, heart hammering from the sudden gust. His eyes strained against the midnight gloom, shafts of pale moonlight leaking past his bedroom curtains. So, he was in his old room. The cramped square, cluttered with a wardrobe that swung open, his small and lumpy bed, a bedside table drowning in comic books and the mess that was his self-dubbed ‘floordrobe’, were comforting and familiar. The walls were painted in that same baby blue, with posters and scribbled drawings of his favorite superheroes plastered all around.

Deciding that sleep would not return anytime soon, Teddy sat up. His patterned duvet slid off his shoulders. He shivered, the early December chill nipping his exposed arms. Teddy pondered for a moment, his mind a buzz with possibilities for entertainment, before he concluded that a midnight snack was well overdue. If he remembered right, then there was some delicious left over cheesecake in the fridge, and it would be wasteful should he allow it to be left uneaten. 
Teddy leaped far out of his bed, careful to refrain from giving the bed-monster a chance to grasp his exposed ankles. Plodding across the floor, and pinching his worn, blue bear, Ted Jr., up from his bed also, Teddy made his way down the stairs. He shivered. Why was it so cold? Maybe he should wake his Mum and ask for a mug of hot coco. Or he could try and make some himself, but his Dad had said not to use the kettle on his own; it must be quite the dangerous contraption, if his Dad was wary of it.

 “What would you like to do Ted Jr.?” he asked the little bear who was cuddled close to his chest. Ted Jr. looked up at him with large black eyes. “Oh, you want to play outside? What a wonderful idea!”
The little boy steered away from the ever so tempting kitchen and faced the back door. His chubby hand reached out for the handle, and giggled delightedly as it swung open without complaint. The wide expanse of his back garden, the glorious overgrown meadow bathed in the opaque light of the full moon, stood welcoming and begging Teddy to run and play amid the grass. He shivered again, but his joy seemed to cancel out what little rationality he possessed, and the idea of returning to his warm, and quite safe bed, evaded his five-year-old mind. Rather, Teddy hugged Ted Jr. tighter, and galloped outside.

Frost had settled overnight, and was now making the most satisfying crunching sounds as Teddy’s slippered feet stomped across it. He giggled. Raising one foot up up up, Teddy dropped the other down down down. _Crunch, crunch, crunch._ He giggled again, dancing around with glee, swinging Ted Jr. around in circles, round and round and round. He stopped when the world began to swim, dizziness ensuring he must halt before he felt quite ill. Teddy raised his left foot up again, stomping it down hard on the frost. _Crunch. _Right foot up then plunging down. _Crunch. _Two feet leaped high, and then fell back down to earth. _Cracrunch. _
The boy paused to catch his breath, then…
_Crunch._
Odd, his feet were still stationed flat on the ground…
_Crunch._
Then what on earth could be making those sounds?
_Crunch._
It sounded big, and heavy.
_Crunch._
Teddy looked around, curiosity prevailing over fear. Until his eyes saw what had been _crunching_ across the snow…

“AGHHHH!—”
His scream cut short, as a big black shadow galloped closer to the young boy. It snarled and growled, razor sharp teeth glinting in the low light. Teddy tried to run, his minuscule feet waddling across at a rate that was far slower. The beasts thick legs swallowed up the ground, claws clicking. It howled; a drawn out yowl of hunger and excitement. It’s eyes, it’s glowing amber eyes, they imprinted little dots in Teddy’s own eyes, filled with a ravenous bloodlust and an indomitable fury.
It was upon Teddy now. His heart was thumping, his eyes were screwed up with tears and he tried to scream again.
 “MUM! DAAD!”

The beast swiped Teddy with its claws. He screeched as the long razors sliced through the skin on his back. Blood seeped through his cotton nightshirt, and he cried out. The beast howled again, before Teddy felt its teeth puncture his side. He was lifted high high high into the air, screams dying from his own weakness, and shaken around wildly. Teddy saw white, and screamed once more. Everything was blurry, a mesh of colours, sounds and smells making his head spin. He barely noticed the beast drop him upon the frozen ground, for all he could see was a white hot pain, all he could hear were his own screams and all he could smell was the sickening, rustic liquid that was crusting all over his skin. Faintly he heard his father’s shout, and his mother’s shriek. But all he could see were those raging amber eyes, the eyes that were hunting him, chasing him; burned into his retinas. Then he felt like he was lit anew.
Amber; Feral; Unstoppable; Wrath.
Amber eyes.

Teddy gasped awake, shaking and lying in a pool of cold sweat as he found himself back in his seventeen-year-old body.
_Fucking hell_, he thought wearily, dropping his head back on the pillow. He took a shuddering breath, heart still hammering. He dared not close his eyelids, for he was sure once they were sealed, his nightmare would return to haunt him. And Teddy wanted to never relive that memory ever again, for, despite it occurring over a decade ago, he remembered it clear as day. Every detail, the minute fractions of time usually forgotten, they stuck, obstinent and stubborn, in his fried brain, reminding, evoking, regretting. How should it be reasonable for one to regret decisions made by a child? Why was he left to face the consequences of the judgments made by a five-year-old, and his teddy bear? It wasn’t fair. But remembering the day he had lost all sense of humanity and innocence wasn’t the worst. No. The worst was forgetting.
And how he _couldn’t fucking remember._ Anything beyond that fateful night was shrouded in a cloud of mystery. Lost behind the painful wall that his transition to Lycanthropy had built, one that his mind could not pull down by any means.

It is normal, apparently, to forget memories made before a person reaches their third year. That’s standard, expected, even. Caused by the brain’s need to acquire other such skills; such as necessary communication and motor skills and so memory is shoved to a lesser corner. But this, what Teddy had, what he failed to remember, was all because of that night. ‘Serious trauma’ they had said was the reason, though descending into such a beast that had inflicted said trauma every month for the last decade, did little to overcome that. And so, Teddy was to be forced into reliving his worst memory, over and over and over. Every night he was rebitten, only to reawaken to face the repercussions of naivety. Teddy loathed this, feeling weakened once again, and powerless to the tortures his own mind was devising against him. Unable to just stop, forget… or at least forget the bad. He already knew what he was, and he didn’t need to suffer from chronic fatigue just to be reminded, thanks.

“May’ you’k?” slurred Ethan, his dorm mate, from the bed beside Teddy. His voice was thick with sleep, and Teddy could hear his slow, even heartbeat. Poor guy was still pretty much asleep. “Y’shouted”
 “M’fine” said Teddy. “Go back to sleep”


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## CPMurphy (Mar 27, 2016)

I am no critic so i wont pretend to be. but i enjoyed that story. at first i thought it was going to be a nice fuzzy kids tale, really good change.


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## lvcabbie (Mar 27, 2016)

_The wind howled, loud and low, pounding against the window and rattling  the old frames. Teddy jumped awake, heart hammering from the sudden  gust. His eyes strained against the midnight gloom, shafts of pale  moonlight leaking past his bedroom curtains. So, he was in his old room.  The cramped square, cluttered with a wardrobe that swung open, his  small and lumpy bed, a bedside table drowning in comic books and the  mess that was his self-dubbed ‘floordrobe’, were comforting and  familiar. The walls were painted in that same baby blue, with posters  and scribbled drawings of his favorite superheroes plastered all around.

_A lot of critics say that starting with a weather scene is a bad idea.But, to me, it's how you present it.This is not bad at all, although perhaps a change in phrasing might create a better picture.  
The old window frames creaked and groaned as the wind howled against them.

How can you have "midnight gloom" with moonlight leaking through the curtains? It's either moonless or moonlit.

And, do you really want all the descriptive stuff to bore your readers with. So it's a dark and gloomy night but why do I want to read more?   :sad:


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## Pea (Mar 27, 2016)

I thoroughly enjoyed this, though I wasn't sure I would from the off-set. It's a great introduction to a character, and to a plot. There are improvements that could be made, but they are minor and my tired mind doesn't quite fancy the task of picking all of them out.

It's only little things like verb usage: i.e 'Teddy jumped awake' - Can you jump awake? I get what you're trying to say but maybe jolted or even simply awoke would do?

Strange tense usage, i.e. (and this might just be me) 'moonlight leaking past his bedroom curtains', should be 'leaked', no?

I think the last few paragraphs, once you return to what I assume is the present, were a little, I don't know... neutral? It seems that you go from a descriptive narrative, to more of an informative narrative? With lines like 'And so, Teddy was to be forced into reliving his worst memory, over and over and over.' I hate to coin this phrase because it's one of my plagues, but maybe less tell more show? You return to a better voice in the last paragraph.

 In general though, a great read. I'd certainly be interested in an expansion on this, if you are so inclined.


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## PrinzeCharming (Mar 27, 2016)

Hey, it's Anthony. I'll take a look. Offer something free. Smile and wave. 

I need a new critique method. So, let's try something BIG. 

[PARAGRAPH 1] 

The wind howled, loud and low, pounding against the window and rattling the old frames. Teddy jumped awake, heart hammering from the sudden gust. His eyes strained against the midnight gloom, shafts of pale moonlight leaking past his bedroom curtains. So, He was in his old room. The cramped square, cluttered with a wardrobe that swung open, his small and lumpy bed, a bedside table drowning in comic books and the mess that was his self-dubbed ‘floordrobe’, were comforting and familiar. The walls were painted in that same baby blue, with posters and scribbled drawings of his favorite superheroes plastered all around.

[CRITIQUE] 


I love the imagery of the wind. I can sense the gust blowing against the house. I can hear it in my mind. There's a sense of time of waking up here. That's great. It allows the reader to connect to the time of the story. You can omit some words to make this a precise read. You can mention Teddy is in his room earlier in the paragraph. Actually, cross that. Let's just imagine he's in his room. Give the reader some space to wonder where he's sleeping. Then, describe the room later. It's your call. You used a lot of commas here. Break it down line by line. You can omit the way his heart reacted. This is obvious. 

*Example: 
*
The wind howled loudly while it pounded against the window. Teddy was awoken from his sleep as the old frames rattled against the house. 

[PARAGRAPH 2] 

Deciding that sleep would not return anytime soon, Teddy sat up. His patterned duvet slid off his shoulders. He shivered, the early December chill nipping his exposed arms. Teddy pondered for a moment, his mind a buzz with possibilities for entertainment, before he concluded that a midnight snack was well overdue. If he remembered right, then  There was some delicious left over cheesecake in the fridge, and it would be wasteful should he allow it to be left uneaten. 
Teddy leaped far out of his bed, careful to refrain from giving the bed-monster a chance to grasp his exposed ankles. Plodding across the floor, and pinching his worn, blue bear, Ted Jr., up from his bed also, Teddy made his way down the stairs. He shivered. Why was it so cold? Maybe he should wake his Mum and ask for a mug of hot coco. Or he could try and make some himself, but his Dad had said not to use the kettle on his own; it must be quite the dangerous contraption, if his Dad was wary of it.

[CRITIQUE] 

I honestly can understand, without additional information, Teddy would not be able to fall asleep soon. There's a possible storm outside, right? This is common for a lot of people in Teddy's situation. You can revise the December chill line. 

*Example:
*
Teddy shivered as the early December chill nipped at his exposed arms. 

Is the pondering necessary for the reader? Okay, so Teddy is trying to entertain himself during a storm. Just with that alone - he's obviously not as scared. He's just having a difficult time falling back asleep. I don't think that line adds anything to the story other than eating out of the inability to fall back asleep. Is he even hungry? He might as well try to drink something to calm his nerves. Tea anyone? The cheesecake line was nice. My dad makes homemade cheesecakes. I don't find it necessary to tell the reader to question Teddy's memory. He either recalls or moves on from the cheesecake. You make it seem like it's his last night. How long has the cheesecake been in the refrigerator? Why can't he just wait until tomorrow? Why does it have to be a waste? I like the concept of the bed monster. I am turning 27, and I still have moments like this.

Okay, cute. I admire the bear. How old is Teddy? Why are you asking these questions? Using *maybe *throws the reader off into a casual play on words. We can often drift to another direction because we now know you're not sure where this story will lead.

[PARAGRAPH 3] 
 
“What would you like to do Ted Jr.?” he asked the little bear who was cuddled close to his chest. Ted Jr. looked up at him with large black eyes. “Oh, you want to play outside? What a wonderful idea!”
The little boy steered away from the ever so tempting kitchen and faced the back door. His chubby hand reached out for the handle, and giggled delightedly as it swung open without complaint. 

The wide expanse of his back garden, the glorious overgrown meadow bathed in the opaque light of the full moon, stood welcoming and begging Teddy to run and play amid the grass. He shivered again, but his joy seemed to cancel out what little rationality he possessed, and the idea of returning to his warm, and quite safe bed, evaded his five-year-old mind. Rather, Teddy hugged Ted Jr. tighter, and galloped outside.

[CRITIQUE] 

Okay, I get it. The kitchen has food. Just omit these words to get straight to the point. I am a little hesitant to watch Teddy and Teddy Jr. go outside. It's crazy outside! I suppose this is suspenseful. You can also omit, "without complaint." It's not necessarily important here. It doesn't add anything to the story other than his consent to do it. This whole description of the backyard can be written precisely to guide the reader more smoothly into the journey awaiting them. There's a lot to take in here. We're going into the next scene of the story. So, please make this transition smooth. All we know as the reader is a dark backyard with a potential storm brewing from the wind pounding. It could be just a really windy night, but guide us carefully into the backyard. Unless the moon actually stood to welcome and beg Teddy to run, you can remove this as well. I know it sounds nice, but it will help you draw a clear picture of the backyard play area. Try to rephrase, "his joy seemed ..... rationality he possessed." It's confusing. Okay, got it. He's five. 


If I have more time, I'll return. Thanks for sharing!


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## Pluralized (Mar 27, 2016)

Hi Blue!

Sometimes it's easy to get overwhelmed and bogged down by detailed critiques, so I'll just throw you a bone: You have done a nice job with the details here, and your imagination seems to be expansive enough to carry a healthy basketful of elements. I would resist the urge to edit this thing to death, and figure out where Teddy's headed next. What happens beyond this freaky dream that will make us care about him, latch onto his story, want to know more? That's where your energy will yield the most benefit. 

To reiterate: nice job, well-seen details, well-rounded setting and characterization. Editing can come later - keep pushing the story along and figure out how to get more out of your head while the fires are still lit. Hope to see more from you.


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## Reichelina (Mar 27, 2016)

Hello, Blue! 
I'm not really a good critic but I just want to drop here and give you a few things from a reader. I mean, that's better than being left ignored right? 

I have to say I like how detailed you were in the first paragraph. I was really imagining myself in Teddy's place with all of that going on around me. I kind of got lost a bit in the middle but it's all right. Maybe it's just me. Haha. 
I also love the twist.  

You can actually make this a novel, like how Teddy always go on some adventure whenever he sleeps. Every. Night.
Thank you for sharing this, Blue!


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## Blue (Mar 28, 2016)

Thank you all for the swift replies!
@Murphy: Glad you liked, and that you found that change unexpected. What I was aiming for.

@lvecabbie: I hadn't noticed the whole moonlit gloom. I wanted to show that it was full moon, you know, kinda but not really as foreshadowing? But maybe I'll leave out the gloom.

@Pea: I get what you mean, the whole show don't tell thing is where I always fall short. Thanks for pointing out some of the tense problems, hadn't even occurred to me.

@PrinzeCharming: Thanks for such a detailed crit, nice to see how you thought about it. Hmm, would you say I was guiding the reader too much? Some of the narrative like 'If he remembered correctly' and such probably came about because I tend to write more in the first person so would make more sense there (just thinking, no it wouldn't. Ha)  I'll have to go over anyways.

@Pluralized: Appreciate the bone:-D For this I did use one of my MCs from my WIP, and I have a lot in store for his character, whose is, I confess, one of my favourites. So in terms of the story there's a great many ideas flying around, and written to be honest. 

@Reichelina: Thanks for taking the time to read. But which part were you lost? Glad you liked it anyways.


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## Reichelina (Mar 28, 2016)

Blue said:


> Thank you all for the swift replies!
> 
> @Reichelina: Thanks for taking the time to read. But which part were you lost? Glad you liked it anyways.



I think this part.... 



> [Frost had settled overnight, and was now making the _*most satisfying crunching sounds *_as Teddy’s slippered feet stomped across it. He giggled. Raising one foot up up up, Teddy dropped the other down down down. _Crunch, crunch, crunch._ He giggled again, dancing around with glee, swinging Ted Jr. around in circles, round and round and round. He stopped when the world began to swim, dizziness ensuring he must halt before he felt quite ill. Teddy raised his left foot up again, stomping it down hard on the frost. _Crunch. _Right foot up then plunging down. _Crunch. _Two feet leaped high, and then fell back down to earth. _Cracrunch. _
> The boy paused to catch his breath, then…
> _Crunch._
> Odd, his feet were still stationed flat on the ground…
> ...



I think _*IT'S NOT YOU IT'S ME.... 
*_LOL. 

I was lost when you used "Crunch". That's snow, right? or not?
I got lost because... (this is what I was thinking as I read it. I only got it after a while. HAHA)

1. I wasn't sure what was happening. You mentioned in the first few parts that they were thinking about going to the kitchen. So, I was like, "I thought he wanted cheesecake? Why crunch? Is there a crunchy cheesecake recipe? OMG, I gotta have that..." But then I thought they cancelled the midnight snack and would go outside instead. 

2. But then they are outside. it's cold. So it must be the snow. I'm not sure if snow would sound like that. I've not seen snow. (*cries loudly) But then there's grass. 
So maybe the crunch is for the grass. or maybe it's the snow. Or cheesecake.

So I kinda skipped that part and tried to understand the ending first so I can try to work back on that. 

So then come next paragraph,


> “AGHHHH!—”
> His scream cut short, as a big black shadow galloped closer to the young boy.



I felt the next scene was more important so I never really cared about that part. 
 
Turns out, Teddy was "lost" too. HAHA. 
I had to skip it and read it again. HAHA. I told you it's me. 

Was I clear?


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## Pea (Mar 28, 2016)

It's not totally my place to say, but I think Blue was getting at the ground being frosty rather than snowy. It makes sense being that you've never seen a snow covered ground, but if the ground is frosty it will crunch underfoot. For example:


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## Blue (Mar 28, 2016)

Yes, Reichelina I was sort of referring to early morning frost which, as Pea said, does crunch. And it is very satisfying. Hope that's cleared up.


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## Reichelina (Mar 28, 2016)

Pea said:


> It's not totally my place to say, but I think Blue was getting at the ground being frosty rather than snowy. It makes sense being that you've never seen a snow covered ground, but if the ground is frosty it will crunch underfoot. For example:





Blue said:


> Yes, Reichelina I was sort of referring to early morning frost which, as Pea said, does crunch. And it is very satisfying. Hope that's cleared up.




haha! Told you! It's not you, it's me. Haha.


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## Blue (Mar 28, 2016)

Understandable really;-) You're grand.


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## Tealynn (Mar 28, 2016)

*Hi Blue*

I was intrigued with your writing style and almost immediately went  looking for where you are from. Just the subtle nuances of your word  choices made me think you weren't from the US (where I am from.) Please  don't take that negatively!

I like what you've written so far. For me, the thoughts of young Teddy confused me about his age. I was thinking older than five, until Teddy Jr. came into the picture, and you stated five. It almost seemed as if the older Teddy was behind some of the thoughts and actions of his younger self? Or was that just my perception?  

Can't wait to read more.

Hoping to be visiting Ireland this July! 

T


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