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 Posted: Mon Jan 28, 2008 6:12 pm
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This is a rather depressing story I wrote a while ago. Please let me know what you think!
In the letter you never wrote to me, you said that you loved me. A letter that should’ve been written- for it would’ve changed both of our lives drastically- but it wasn’t. A letter I still look forward to reading though I very well know I’ll never hold anything that has ever been written by you ever again. I know this all to be true; you’re dead and no one nor anything can bring back the dead.
If Mother knew I spent hours up in my room writing pointless letters to a dead man, she would be ashamed of me. So ashamed, she might even send me away to that horrid place called an insane asylum. After all, I’ve overheard her and Father talking about sending me to an asylum many times before. The thought of which fills me with rage; this is why my writing is so shaky and I apologize for that.
It’s been 6 years since you passed away. I promise you that your days weren't wasted; you used them wisely. Your life was a short but good one; you were always smiling and making the best of your days. I remember the day I had first met you; it was on April 6th, 1853, exactly 3 days before my 14th birthday. Mother was worried I was never going to meet a man who I’d be happy with. For this reason, she had insisted I go to a ball. I have to admit the ball was amazing- the mansion was beautiful and everyone was so kind- but all of the disappeared the moment my eyes wandered to your face.
You’re smile was what had brought me to your attention; it wasn’t a fake smile, no, it was a real, full smile. I couldn’t help but blindly make my way over to you. Being in a state of daze, I ran right into you!
“I’m… I’m so sorry!” I had stammered.
You continued to smile, “its okay.” You even helped me onto my feet! I instantly knew you were the man for me.
“I’m Felix. It’s very nice to meet you.”
I was so caught in your smile I couldn’t even remember my own name. I remember thinking to myself, snap out of it! You’re making a fool out of yourself!
“I’m Sophia,” I managed to clearly say.
“Well, Sophia, how about a dance?”
I happily said yes; that was the beginning of our relationship. One dance made us want to see each other every day, and that’s exactly what we did. We spent days on end with each other. Whatever it was- we did things from walking in the park to having romantic dinners- it was done together.
But it obviously wasn’t enough for you. I loved you and you seemed to love me; actually, you did love me, you even told me yourself! Still, you never proposed to me or sent me that long love letter I’ve waited so long for. Three years passed and soon my parents were fed up with you and wanted you gone. They disposed of you quickly and smoothly; they simply asked you to never come back. This was hard for both of us, but you obviously took it even harder then I had. Not even 2 weeks later I had received a letter- I ended up burning that letter I was so upset- that stated you had committed suicide.
Now, I’m reaching the age of 24 and I don’t think I can handle any more of this. My dear Felix, this is the last letter you will receive from me, but there will be plenty of letters I will never write- for the same reason you never wrote me that long love letter I will no longer wait for- that I should’ve wrote.
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Posted: Mon Jan 28, 2008 6:46 pm
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Posted: Tue Jan 29, 2008 3:04 pm
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Posted: Tue Jan 29, 2008 3:27 pm
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First, I'd like to say that over all the piece is well written. It has a few grammatical/structural errors that I will bring up in a moment, but nothing that detracts too much from the work. As far as the story goes it is a little sticky sweet for my taste. But then again I was never a fan of the period romance; "Pride and Prejudice? No thanks." But that's all a matter of one's palate for literature. Anyway, on to the actual critique:
Quote: The thought of causes me to fill with rage; this is why my writing is so shaky and I apologize for that.
I believe you mean "The thought of which causes me to fill with rage", or better yet "The thought of which fills me with rage"
Quote: It’s been 6 years since you passed away. I figured it would be a good idea to remind you of what your life, on Earth, was like. It was a short but good one; you were always smiling and making the best of your days. I remember the day I had first met you; it was on April 6th, 1853, exactly 3 days before my 14th birthday. Mother was worried I was never going to meet a man who I’d be happy with.
Try reading this part through once and then again without the part from "I figured it would be...making the best of your days." I think you'll find that it makes more sense. It is simply a girl reflecting on her past rather than trying to explain to the guy what his life was like.
Quote: We spent hours together. Whether we were eating together, taking a walk in the park, shopping, dancing or simply talking to each other; it quickly took up hours of our days.
You use the words "hours" and "together" twice in a relatively short period of time. In some cases repeated words work, but when read out loud, or slowly in one's head it sounds a bit repetitive.
Well that's all I see after a few read throughs. Keep posting!
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Posted: Tue Jan 29, 2008 4:09 pm
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Posted: Tue Jan 29, 2008 4:39 pm
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Posted: Wed Jan 30, 2008 1:56 pm
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Posted: Wed Jan 30, 2008 5:38 pm
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Posted: Thu Jan 31, 2008 1:00 pm
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Posted: Sat Aug 23, 2008 1:10 pm
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StrawberryFlavoredDisease
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Posted: Sat Aug 23, 2008 5:15 pm
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