# Forsaken



## Johnathanrs (Jan 9, 2011)

“Please...Claire, hush now”

My little sister is shaking, I can feel her warmth, outside it is freezing cold. We lay hidden inside this mighty trees trunk, for you see, we are being chased. Not by a creature, no far worse. We are being chased by demons, at least that's what I call them. I could hear them outside, the townsfolk drawing nearer. They light the darkness with their torches searching for us. The entrance is covered by a large shrub, however, I do not know if it's camouflage will hold. I pray, no I beg you—god, please do not let them find us—for they seek my sisters life, she is to be executed, for she is a witch. A bringer of the plague. But how could this be true, she is not but ten years of age.

I can hear the voices drawing closer, Claire is shaking harder, squeezing ever so tightly. I can feel her heartbeat, it is racing so fast. Her breathing so rapid, yet, there is nothing I can do. I am powerless, just a young weakling of thirteen years of age. The light shines right outside, I can hear them talking, ranting about our fate. These despicable creatures called humans, how I despise them, and how I refuse to believe god has shun other species for our own. Human's are not good, human's are evil, and I curse the day that I ever became one of them.

“Claire” I whisper, “If they find us, I want you to run as fast as you can. I will try to distract them.” 

She looks up at me, eyes swollen with tears. “I cannot brother, I will not leave your side."

“Please Claire, I beg of you, do this for your big brother. Promise me.”

“No...”

“Promise me..”

“...No” 

“_Promise me Claire_” 

Never before have I felt this, as I looked down into her eyes, tears flooding down her cheeks, as if a rainstorm itself had been conjured. At this one point in time, this one second, I had realized...I hurt my little sister so. As she wept gazing into my eyes, I watched, powerless, for her soul had shattered before me. This is when I made a vow, before god himself—if you lay one hand on my sister, no one finger on my sister, I pray for your soul. If you _harm _my little sister, _my precious little sister_, I pray for your soul, and if you even _think_ about _killing_ _my little sister_, _my innocent little sister_, _I will hunt you down and show you pain you never thought possible_..._this I swear_.

“_Brother_”

Her words brought me back, for this damnation that most call reality holds my light. She is staring straight ahead, “Found ya” a daunting, revolting, voice originates from the entrance. A elderly mans face is staring straight at me.

With all my might, I charge forward, ramming him, and pinning him to the ground, for I lay on top, and I hold control. 

“_Run Claire_” 

Little Claire is cowering still, she is standing outside now, but is frozen with fear, I see this, but dare not judge. 

“_You Promised Claire_”

My words break reapers grasp, she steps slightly backwards, timid, as she watches me wrestle with the man. 

“Broth..” I interrupt her, time is short. “Please Claire, _go_!” 

I can see lights, only a few near, others far in the distance. Claire turns around, glancing behind, I will never forget that moment, for I rather die a million times over, then to see that face again. She need not say a word, I understand, “Farewell, brother.” 

Another man hears commotion, rushing, to aid his brethren. I fall to the ground. They continue to attack, relentless, stomping on my flesh. I lay there in the fetal position, shivering, darkness engulfing my sight. Voices, and small flickering lights drawing closer. “Where is she,” “Where did she go,” I knew what it meant, as darkness stole the last of my light, I smiled—my little sister would live on.

I awoke sometime in the afternoon, how many day had passed, I know not. My arms are bound, my legs also shackled. However, my legs be to small, and my arms be even smaller, I evade their control. This room however a different story. Iron bars to the front, solid walls to the others, only a small window gave light. 

The ground was moist, hay scattered about, another person imitated me. He is sitting in the same 
position as me, in the other side of the room. 

“Who are you?”

The man didn't reply.

“Who are you?” 

I hear a voice, “Why do you ask?”

“Why are you here?”

“Why are you here?”

The man is mocking me, but I needn’t reply, there isn't any reason to. Time slithered on, far too slow for my liking.

“I helped my sister escape the inquisition.” I decide to start up again. The man continues to mock me, mimicking me down to the way I sit.

I hear a voice, “Are you sure?”

“What do you mean?”

“Are you sure, that's all?”

This man speaks in riddles, what could he mean. My body ached immensely, I am a prisoner now, and my precious little sister goes unprotected. “I do not have the patience, nor the time.”

I hear the mans chuckle. “...Look down at your hands”

His words baffle me, but I comply. My hands are normal, few scrapes, nothing out of the ordinary. “What do you mean, theirs nothing there.”

“Look closer.”

I stare at my hands again, suddenly, a flash of light. And then, I remembered.


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## Ripka (Jan 10, 2011)

Good storytelling, but if this is the entire story, you might want to make the ending more clear. What does he remember? That he didn't "help her escape," but forced her to leave him? Something else? The end doesn't tie up the rest of the story, because it leaves off as though broken right out of the middle of a bigger story. It leaves the meaning of the entire story unclear.
Also, you have a few technical errors. For instance, "god," if this boy is praying to him, is actually "God." Also, "to" in one of your bottom paragraphs was meant to be "too."
Other than these, you depicted the story well and did a great job of showing character emotion (especially since they're so young.) Keep it up!


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## Johnathanrs (Jan 10, 2011)

Ripka said:


> because it leaves off as though broken right out of the middle of a bigger story.


 
This is the first time I have written a first person and present tense piece. I simply wanted practice. As for the story itself, I am uncertain. I have finished this small story, but should I use this as a short story, or tie it into a novel? This is unclear. How my mind debates between each prespective, the final verdict still a mystery. 

A story is written in third tense, however, this short story be first tense, would this read awkward? I am uncertain. Should I re-write, as in novel based, for this characters prespective? How I am overwhelmed by my own limitations. (*These questions must be answered by me, and me alone, how opinions sway my judgement though.)

You have answered my question though, "Good Storytelling" perhaps I should always write in this tense, there seems to be no hope in third tense. I will await more feedback before I deliberate my decision. As for this story, I don't write for praise--I write for improvement and opinions--why I posted a portion. If people wish to read more and complete this story, then I shall grant them their wish and post the entire story as is.

Grammar wise I am weak, but my strengths lie elsewhere. As long as my grammar does not conflict with my story, then I leave the rest for editors. Hopefully, this cleared up my intentions.


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## Hopscotch (Nov 13, 2013)

This could turn out to be a great adventure story. I really like ur style u might want to look up the adventures of pug the sorcerrer - very similiar. Its a kind of throwaway style what i mean by that its so easy to pick up and read. I really got into it and its 1am u know im mostly going that ok to things im reading at this time. This is good. Defo keep going!


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## Your New Rival (Nov 29, 2013)

This was pretty good and I enjoyed it. The only part I'm not sure about is the man mimicking you. The only reason being that it doesn't suit the voice. The person mimicking would have more of a light heart, maybe making cruel jokes. Whereas the voice seems certain of himself, serious and down to the point. The person sitting down almost seems like a different person. Especially so because rather than saying "He spoke" after it had been established someone was sitting there, You wrote "I hear a voice". Maybe it's just me but at first I thought he was just dizzy,and was arguing with a mirror, until the voice happened, at which point I assumed someone else was interrogating him behind said mirror. (Which could be a good alternative Idea, if you wished). 

Other than that, small things like how would he know it was afternoon from a small window of light? maybe add a detail like he could see the suns positioning or something. And when he looks down at his hands, there should be something on them (e.g blood, dirt, cuts) just something different that was there because of what happened, and that's why he remembered. Unless the burst of light is the theme here and that was what happened. (I assumed it was the start of some flashback or something) 

Other than that, a fantastic piece! I would like to see more


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## Tbird0000 (Dec 3, 2013)

I was impressed with this excerpt. It was gripping actually and thats a little hard to do. I myself am fond of first person writing. Its a more personal feel and the reader really gets to know the character. But once a story is written entirely in first person, its very difficult to change the perspective and write, for example, the perspective of another character. Know what I mean? Cant know what both people are thinking because the character isnt in their head.


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## stormr (Dec 28, 2013)

That's a great story. Aside from a couple spellign errors and such. I got involved in it, and really followed it. I did like the ending, however it makes me want to read more, and there isn't any more to read. I'd like to see you continue this story, perhaps even turn it into a novel or something. Keep up the good work!


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## thepancreas11 (Dec 28, 2013)

First person is tough because, as a writer, you want to reveal more than what the narrator sees or thinks, but you have to stay away from that because you want the narrator to have credibility.

Here's an example of something that the character _would_ say in order to set up the character depictions: "But how could this be true, she is not but ten years of age."  There are two great things about this character detail: it doesn't feel forced, as in, it's written in the flow of the story (i.e. being ten years old and responsible for a plague seems very unlikely, doesn't it?), and two, it's relevant (i.e. her being weak and small is something that would make the reader feel for her, and it would be something that the character would think of in that situation).  However, the line about _his _age ("I am powerless, just a young weakling of thirteen years of age.") feels a bit more thrust in there, like you're tripling up.  He's weak _and _young _and_ thirteen.  It is relevant, so try something else, like "I am powerless.  These are grown men after us, and I am thirteen."  Then we associate with him.  We all know what it's like to be thirteen.  We all know that as an adolescent we felt young and weak against our elders at times.  Give the reader a little more credit.

Honestly though, that's all I can think of for criticism.  If you're going to put this in a book, which I recommend, finish this chapter with what he's got on his hands and who the man is, and you're golden.  Well done.


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