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 Posted: Mon Mar 26, 2007 4:23 pm
This is really my first fictional story. (Not counting the ones we are 'forced' to write in school.) I gave it to my teacher and she said it was really good, and then she read it to the class. They all loved it, at least most of them who came up and told me I did a good job.
Now, Id like to know your opinions! Tell me what you loved, hated, what could have been different, any mistakes I had made. Id love to know!
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Posted: Mon Mar 26, 2007 4:25 pm
Liz Hempton, daughter of the local banker Mr. Hempton, looked in the mirror, smiling. She was about to be married! “Father,” she called down the hall, “Is Andrew here yet? He told me he was bringing surprise, his wedding gift to me from him.”
“Not yet dear,” Mr. Hempton said indifferently, turning the page of a news paper. He grumbled to himself about Andrew Grey and how he was such a clumsy kid. He was always messing things up someway or another. “I’m sure he’ll be here-”
Mr. Hempton was interrupted by a wet splashing sound followed by a string of profanities. “Soon.” He finished, putting his newspaper down.
Liz was already rushing from her room out the front door. “OH!” she gasped, her hands flying to her face as she went down the steps. “Andrew! Must you play in the mud at a time like this?” she laughed, watching as Andrew got up out of the mud.
Andrew looked like a drenched cat. Looking down at the mud puddle, he picked the once-white dress up and held it out for Liz. “Your,” he said with a sigh, “present. Sorry.” He smiled weakly and hurried to the porch. “I-I’m sorry Mr. Hempton, I didn’t mean to ruin it...I…” Andrew’s head hung low as Liz stepped up beside him, mud stained dress in hand.
Mr. Hempton shook his head. “Andrew” is all he said as he went back into the house. He headed to the back of the house where kept a chest of his wife’s things. He couldn’t bear to get rid of them. He just needed something to remind him of his lost love.
“Its okay, Andrew,” Liz said, laughing a little. “It happens to the best of us. Come on, there’s tea in the house.” She went into the house and put the soiled dress over the back of a chair, then set out the tea pot and cups and saucers.
Andrew followed his face a bit red from embarrassment. “Is this your famous tea that I love so much?” he asked as Liz sat down. She nodded and poured the tea into two cups. Andrew took a seat across the table and sipped his. “Ahhh. This is the best.” Andrew said, putting his cup down.
Liz nodded and took a sip. “It’s Mother’s recipe.” She said distantly, holding the cup in both hands and letting the warmth spread through her cold fingers.
Mr. Hempton came in carrying with him a white bundle. “It was you mother’s, Liz. You can wear it.” Andrew got up out of his chair and took the dress from Mr. Hempton. He held it up for everyone to see.
“It’s gorgeous!” Liz exclaimed, standing up to get a better look. “I bet Mother looked beautiful in it!” She ran her fingers down the lacy dress, and then turned to give her father a hug. “Thank you Father!” she whispered, breaking free of the quick embrace.
Mr. Hempton smiled. “She did look beautiful, and you will too.” He said warmly, then looked at Andrew. “Well, if you don’t fall in the mud again, she will.” Mr. Hempton laughed and nudged Andrew with his elbow.
Andrew’s cheeks flushed again and he smiled too. “Aw, he’s just teasing you, Andrew.” Liz said tenderly, taking the dress from him. “I’ll go see if it fits,” she said, heading to her room.
Andrew nodded after Liz, then turned to Mr. Hempton. “Thank you for letting me marry Liz. She means the world to me. ” Andrew said, hoping to break then tension.
Mr. Hempton’s jolly expression turned to a frown. “And she means the double the world to me. Hurt her in any way, you won’t have a world,” he growled.
Andrew took a step back. “Y-yes sir, Mr. Hempton sir. I won’t lay a hand on her,” he promised, raising his hand a bit as if speaking a sacred oath.
Mr. Hempton’s hard face turned into a smile. “Good,” he laughed, his belly shaking. “You are so easy to scare!” He slapped Andrew on the back and nodded, his laughing faded away. “But seriously, boy. One bruise and you’ll be blue all over, and six feet under. Got that?”
Andrew took another step back and gulped. Little beads of sweat broke out on his forehead. He nodded slowly and squeaked out a “yes”.
“Well?” Liz’s voice interrupted the moment between father and soon-to-be-son-in-law. “What do you think?” she asked, twirling around.
Mr. Hempton smiled. “Beautiful. Just like…your mother.” His voice was far away; his eyes empty as he stood there, memories of his wedding, his wife, flashed before his eyes.
Andrew smiled as he rushed to Liz. He picked her off the ground, and spun her around, setting her safely back down, resting his hands on her waist.
Liz giggled with delight and looked at her husband-to-be. “Isn’t it bad luck to see the bride in her gown before the wedding?”
Andrew nodded and shrugged. “With the luck I have, a little more bad luck won’t hurt.” The couple, held in each other’s arms, laughed.
“Ahem!” Mr. Hempton said, clearing his throat. “Isn’t it about time you go on home, Andrew? Prepare for the wedding?” He didn’t wait for an answer. He was already pushing Andrew out the door.
“Bye my love,” Liz called, waving. She caught a glimpse of Andrew looking back at her and mouthing the words “I love you” before her father had shoved him completely out.
“Father!” Liz sighed, sitting down in the chair. “Must you kick him out like that? You don’t give us two minutes to ourselves!”
Mr. Hempton smiled at his daughter. “Yes, I must. Otherwise you might fall in love with him.”
“Oh but I already have, Father!” Liz insisted with a giggle, her cheeks turning a light shade of pink. “I have!”
Mr. Hempton shook his head at his daughter’s silliness. “Go change out of the dress, dear. It’s almost supper time.”
“Yes Father.”
A slight knocking at the door interrupted Liz’s dreams. She groaned and turned over; hoping whoever it was would go away.
“Liz!” came an excited whisper. “Liz, it’s me. Andrew. Please open your window, Liz. I’ve exciting news!”
Liz frowned, but got up out of bed anyway. Lighting a candle, she stumbled to the window and opened it, smiling when her lover’s face came into view. “What is it Andrew? Has Father allowed you to use the front door finally?” she teased, laughing at Andrew’s expense.
He shook his head. “No, Liz. Better!” he whispered, trying not to wake anyone else. A lone canine howl could be heard as the slight breeze stirred the young lovers’ hair. Andrew reached out his hands to take Liz’s in his own. “I found a ring.”
“Oh? Where did- Andrew!” she scolded, though not be able to hide the smile that proved she was just dying to know. “What were you doing out so late? And where did you find a ring?”
Setting one hand down, Andrew dug around in his pocket, pulling out a ring. He held it in his hand, hiding it from Liz’s view. “Never mind why, Liz. But as to where?” he grinned. “Remember you used to tell me of that place down by the river. You seemed so fond of it.” Andrew spoke softly, fingering the ring in the palm of his hand, still hiding it from Liz’s questioning stare.
Her muscles tensed a bit. That place was hers, but she calmed down a bit, knowing Andrew had good intentions.
“I went out for a bit. Hoping to calm my nerves,” he continued, “I thought I might go to that place, the one you seldom spoke of. It was beautiful. The way the moon hit the small clearing, reflected off the water. And the willow tree, towering above everything like the guardian of the forest. It was beautiful, Liz.” He turned his gaze up to his expectant bride-to-be. She was smiling, but he knew she wanted him to get on with it.
“As I was walking along the bank, I found this.” He opened his palm to reveal a slightly worn, silver ring. Little swirls were raised on the surface, while in between there were circular grooves, giving it some depth.
Liz gaped at the ring. It looked familiar, but she couldn’t put a finger on it. She smiled and gave Andrew and awkward hug, careful not to catch her bed clothes on the candle’s flame. “Its lovely,” she whispered, breaking the embrace. “Thank you Andrew… I love it.”
“I thought you might.” His cheeks flushed, but undetectable in the faint candlelight’s glow. “Now your father can keep your mother’s ring, and you get the honor of your own.”
Liz folded Andrew’s hand over the ring, and gave him a quick kiss on the nose. “If we are to be wed tomorrow, we must get some rest.” She took a step back from the window, cradling the candlestick in her hands, then whispered, “Goodnight, my love. See you in the daylight.”
“Sweet dreams, Liz.”
“Attention everyone! I have a toast to make!” Mr. Hempton said, as he raised his glass. The whole room raised their glasses to meet their host’s. He glanced at his daughter and her newly wedded husband. “These two have been best of friends since the day they met.” Liz and Andrew looked at each other then turned their attention back to Mr. Hempton.
“I never liked the boy much, but the only thing that was wrong with him was that he’s young. He’s grown on me, though, like this wine here.” He chuckled and raised his glass a little higher. A few murmurs of laughter spread through the crowd.
“He was always blurting out some smart mouth comment, or tripping over something. Why, yesterday, he even fell in the mud while he had a gift for my daughter!” Andrew’s cheeks flushed and he sank down in his chair a bit. Liz laughed a little, scooting herself a little closer to him. Mr. Hempton smiled. Turning to couple, his voice grew a bit louder with the pleasure of finally getting to the point of the toast. “I hope you two have a long and happy marriage.” Mr. Hempton cleared his throat. “Here’s to love without shame!” he declared, taking a drink of his wine. The crowd cheered their approval, and sipped their share of wine.
“And to shame without love.” A cool slick voice interrupted, followed by a soft thud of the church’s closing doors. A man walked to the head of the table to Mr. Hempton, who still had his glass raised. “Why thank you, Mr. Hempton. What a wonderful ceremony. I couldn’t do better myself,” he said. Entwining his arm with Mr. Hempton’s as if they were newly married, he tipped the glass back, and took the rest of the wine. He untangled his arm, giving Mr. Hempton a dry smile, and walked around the table, trailing his fingers along the backs of the chairs.
Everyone was silent, watching as the stranger made his way to the bride and groom’s table. A few whispers of alarm and disapproval could be heard among the crowd.
The man smiled a wry smile. “What fair skin. So soft, the harshness of womanhood has yet to scar thy beautiful cheek bones.” He said, gently caressing the bride’s chin. He leaned down so his lips brushed against her hair. He breathed in deep; the scent of her filled him. “Such an intoxicating scent…Liz.” The man said, laying a quick kiss on the top of her head.
Liz Hempton, now Liz Grey, gave her husband a look, and bit her bottom lip nervously. “Andrew…do something.” She insisted timidly, sinking down in her chair trying to get away from this man.
“Sir,” Mr.Hempton said, hurrying to his daughter’s side. “Who are you? And what business do you have here?!” he demanded. How rude it was to interrupt a wedding uninvited.
The wedding-goers stayed silent. This man was a threat, they all sensed it. But they couldn’t move. All they could do was wait. Wait for whatever this man had in store. A few of them quietly took their kids and left, not bothering to excuse themselves. They were sure no one would mind.
The man smiled. It wasn’t a pleasant smile. It was a sneer. A snicker. The man straightened his suit jacket and bowed deeply. “You already know me.” He said, an evil grin forming on his lips. There’s no reason to reintroduce myself, he thought. “My business?” he asked in almost a laugh. “It is not my business, but the bride’s. Perhaps yours, maybe the groom’s, but not mine.” He gestured to himself to emphasize his point. His voice was smoother than the wine he had stolen. His dark eyes were clouded with pain, but at the same time humor. The twisted humor of a joke that only the demented of mind would share.
Andrew stood up hurriedly, knocking over his chair. “Now look here sir!” he yelled, grabbing the man and turning him around. “Don’t you dare touch Liz again!”
The intruder snickered and looked at Andrew. “And what’s stopping me from such a pleasure?” he sneered. In one swift movement, he grabbed Liz out of her chair, leaned her back as if they were a couple engaged in a tango, and kissed her. He held the kiss out until he was torn away from her with rough hands, followed by a blow to the face.
Liz fell out of the man’s hands, and quickly swept back up by her father’s strong arms. The man stared coldly at Andrew, his hand cradled his chin. Andrew stood huffing, as if just touching the stranger took all the breath out of him. “Don’t ever touch Liz.” Andrew growled. He pulled his arm back to throw another punch. “Ever.” He said and threw his fist at forward.
The corner of the man’s mouth curled into a smile, as his hand went from his chin, to meet Andrew’s fist. With a loud smack, he stopped the flying fist, and twisted Andrew’s arm. Andrew bit his bottom lip to keep from screaming out in pain. “That wasn’t too wise, my boy.” The man sneered. With full control over Andrew, he twisted him around and pushed him into the table. Mr. Hempton and Liz gasped at the same time when their good china pieces broke under Andrew’s weight.
Andrew grumbled and turned to face his opponent, who was seemingly unscathed. It was as if Andrew had never laid hand on him. He rubbed his arm and glared at the intruder.
“Care for another hit? Though, this time I suggest not being so obvious.” The man said, walking back around the table, once again trailing his fingers along the backs of the chairs.
The church hall was empty; the crowd had long gone, though in their squabble, they hadn’t noticed. “It’s a shame no one could be here, Andrew, to see you and this beautiful funeral.” He said harshly, yet a hint of sorrow could be heard. He grabbed a knife from the table and slowly turned. His tormented gaze rested upon Andrew. “Say goodbye to your dearest husband, Liz.”
“NO!” Liz screamed, reaching out her hand, though it was too late. Mr.Hempton wrapped his arms around his daughter and turned her away. The knife flew from the cold, heartless fingers of the man, straight to Andrew’s heart.
Mr.Hempton slowly turned back around. Maybe Andrew was still alive? Liz struggled free of her father’s arms and ran to her lover’s side. “Andrew…” she said, a tear falling onto the still body. “Please no. No, this can’t have happened. Not to me. Not to Andrew. No.” she whimpered, “Not again…” She took Andrew’s lifeless hand in her own. Pressing it to her face, she gave Andrew one last kiss before resting his hand gently across his chest.
Slowly Liz stood, wiping her tear stained face. She turned to her father, who muttered some words of comfort as she rushed into his arms. He cradled her head against his chest, and kissed the top of her head.
No one noticed as the man slipped out the double doors. He walked quickly into the neighboring cemetery, laughing like a mad man. “Vengeance is cruel, my dearest Liz. And so was what you did. You gave up on me, never wondered what had become of me.” He said to no one but himself and what ever wandering soul could hear. “I haven’t even begun my torture, yet you have already started your crying.” His laughing had faded, and now it was just the whimpers of a grieving man. A man that had lost everything, of a promise broken long ago, leaving him alone with a heart split in two.
“‘You already know me,’ ” he repeated, picking up a stone and tossed it up, catching it in his hand. “Valcus!” Half-shouting, he disrupted a few nearby crows. He held the rock out in front of him as if it had a peculiar odor, and examined it. He turned it in his hand and held it up to the sunlight.
Sitting down at the base of a head stone, Valcus sighed and tossed the rock up once more and caught it. “Just like this rock,” he thought, “Lives are so easy to dispose of.” His insane laughing started up again, as he whipped the pebble at a nearby headstone, chipping a piece off of it.
Valcus’s sneer returned to his face as he stood up, brushing his hands off on his pants, leaving a few chalky grey smudges on the black of the dress pants. “And just like that, Liz,” he said out loud, “Deaths make other lives crumble to the ground, just like that.” He folded his hands behind his back and walked on a few paces, then stopped. The wind picked up, tugging at his clothes, calling for him to go with it.
Liz shook her head and pulled away from her father, wiping her eyes once more. “How could you let that man do what he did?!” she yelled. “You just let him barge right in here, take your wine and my husband!” She shoved past her father and barged through the doors. “I will find that man if it’s the last thing I do!” she swore, slamming the doors behind her. “The first time… No, no, no…” she muttered, shaking her head, trying to stop old memories from the past from flooding her mind.
Another round of tears began to make their way down Liz’s already damp face as she hurried along the path that went past the cemetery. Valcus stopped and leaned against a tree to watch Liz as she walked on, her face in her hands and tears falling. She didn’t notice Valcus’s gaze on her as she turned the corner and headed for the main part of town.
Valcus looked up to the grey skies, the wind picked up a bit, sending a few leaves tumbling across the road. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he slowly slipped into the woods, heading to the south of town where the river twisted in and out of the woods.
Liz stormed into the bar, a place where the respected daughter of the banker usually isn’t seen. “Whiskey, two shots.” She demanded, taking her seat on a stool. “NOW!” She put her elbows on the counter, resting her chin in a hand, wiping her eyes with the other.
The bar tender looked a bit frazzled. This was the first time he had seen Liz, or any Hempton for that matter, near, let alone in, the bar. But he fetched the two shots she asked for and plopped them down in front of her.
Liz grabbed the nearest one, downed it, and reached for the second, only to be stopped by the bar tender’s hand. “What’s got such a fine lady as ‘yer self down, Ms. Hempton?”
Yanking her arm away, Liz sloshed a bit of whiskey out of the glass onto the table, and drank what was left. “Nothing of importance.” She said curtly, refusing to meet the bar tender’s gaze. She hopped off the stool and stalked out of the bar, ignoring the few cat-calls and whistles coming from the drunks that took refuge there.
She put her hands to her head as she continued through the town. She could hardly believe what had happened. She shook her head, wrapping her arms around herself to drive out the cold the wind had brought. I will find that man! She swore angrily, stumbling over a rough spot in the rode. Andrew didn’t deserve to die.
She stormed angrily into her house, slamming the door behind her. Her father wasn’t there; she could only imagine where he was. “Andrew didn’t deserve to die,” she repeated, digging through her father’s dresser. She grabbed a key and walked quickly to the back of the house. “That man does.” She unlocked the door to her father’s gun safe and selected a small, easy to conceal pistol.
Liz half-ran out the door, grabbing a coat on the way and stuffing the pistol inside, out of sight. She didn’t know where she was going, but out of sheer habit she wandered into the woods, following a path that she hadn’t traveled since she was a child.
She stepped into a clearing. It was beautiful, but it brought back memories she tried to forget everyday. She had succeeded through the years, but as she stood there, she couldn’t help but remember what had happened so long ago.
What few trees were there stood tall and straight. A weeping willow sat in the middle of the clearing, looking over everything like a protective mother. The river rushed by, surrounding the clearing with a gentle whooshing sound.
Liz fought back the urge to turn and run, to leave everything behind yet again, but she forced herself forward, hugging her arms tightly around her. The wind had picked up, blowing her hair against her face, trying to blind her to no avail. She had walked here many times before. This place was hers, no matter how much it tortured her to be here. But she needed a place to think. She had to find that man.
She leaned up against the willow tree, facing the river. Memories flashed before her eyes as she sank down against the trunk, sitting at its base like she had done long ago. She closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the old willow tree.
“You promised,” a pained voice said. Liz ignored it. No one else knew of this place. Except one person…but he was dead, wasn’t he? She was slightly aware of someone coming out from the small opening where the river disappeared into the woods again and standing next to her.
“You promised we would be together. Forever.”
Liz shook her head. It almost sounded like…No. It couldn’t be. He was dead, lost in the river when they were kids.
Liz turned from the voice. She knew it had to be her mind, deteriorating ever so slowly, making her hear the voice of her childhood friend. She put her head in her hands; tears began to slide down her face.
“Don’t you remember Liz?”
She shook her head, not wanting to remember.
The voice was almost humored by her suffering. Yet at the same time, compassionate. “It was my eleventh birthday,”
“I know,” she whispered, biting her bottom lip.
“You had found this place, gave it to me as a present.”
Liz took her ring off, finally opening her eyes, not looking up from the ground. She stared at it, the voice and the ring together forced that dread filled day to replay in her head over and over again against her will.
“You promised, Liz, that this would be our place. No one else would know about it.”
She whimpered, biting her bottom lip to keep from crying more than she already was. “I know.” Her voice was far and distant, no longer in the present, but reliving the past.
“I gave you the ring, my promise to you.” The voice was loving, but quickly turned to the harsh tone that made Liz cower. “I KEPT MY PROMISE!” The voice yelled. “To love you, and only you. Until the day I die. Then I will still keep loving you even when I was gone.”
Liz shook her head, her empty gaze staring out into nowhere. “No!” she screamed, the word echoing around them. “It never happened! None of it! It’s not true!” She got up and finally faced the man that had been standing there. She was quivering from anger and grief, to numb from the pain in her heart to notice to cold and the howling wind.
The man stared at her. “Of course it happened Liz. You were there.” His voice was quiet now, barely audible over the wind. “Then I fell into the river.” He stated, finally convincing Liz that it was him. That he was alive.
“Valcus,” Liz whispered, though it was like she never said it. This couldn’t be. It was flood season; he fell, swept away from the current. He had to be dead, he just had to be.
“You gave up on me, broke your promise. You loved another, went on without me, never bothering to see if I was alive!” he yelled over the wind. He walked from the tree to the river where he was fallen in so many years ago, then turned to face Liz.
Liz shook her head. No, she still couldn’t believe…
She took the pistol from her jacket and aimed it at Valcus. “Say goodbye to your dearest, Liz.” She fingered the trigger, tears still falling down her face. “Goodbye,” she whispered, pulling the trigger.
Valcus’s eyes went wide with horror; the pain in his stomach was tremendous. His mouth gaped open and he staggered back, falling once more into the river. He was swept away by the current, unable to save himself.
Liz stared into the spot where he had just stood. More tears streamed down her face. She let out a loud, un-human wail.
She took a step forward and held out her hand. The ring lay in the palm of her hand. She clenched her fist around it again and put her quivering fist down by her side. She wanted nothing to do with that ring anymore. Just broken promises, empty futures. She raised the gun slowly, positioning it a few inches from her head.
The sound of the gun echoed through the forest, as Liz fell to the ground, the ring dropping from her hand.
The wind picked up, bringing down a steady sheet of rain with it; thunder rumbled in the distance. The willow, watching over the woods as it did, swayed in the breeze, unable to have done anything, the ring rest at its base, a reminder to the willow that there are many reasons to weep
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Posted: Tue Mar 27, 2007 2:07 am
I really like it more than I thought I would at the beginning. Only two things really, first a basic spelling/my mind racing, my typing behind error.
"Remember you used to tell me of that place down my the river."
...by the river, not ...my the river.
The other one is just my questioning mind, I really don't know if you need it in the story or not but you hint at the mother either leaving or dying..I think dying. But you never say, perhaps to give the wrong impression about the ring...
Really thought the story was going to have something sinister regarding this mystery, not what actually happened. Maybe that's why you left that hanging, but this questioning mind would like to know that back story...plz. 3nodding
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Posted: Tue Mar 27, 2007 5:48 am
Thanks for reading!
Oh,and, sorry 'bout that, this is the first draft. I forgot to go through it and fix everything...again. (Ill do that after school then.)
And the mother dying was just something to distract you for a bit, and kinda just to let you know that she wasnt there.
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Posted: Tue Mar 27, 2007 8:24 am
Fasie Thanks for reading! Oh,and, sorry 'bout that, this is the first draft. I forgot to go through it and fix everything...again. (Ill do that after school then.) And the mother dying was just something to distract you for a bit, and kinda just to let you know that she wasnt there. lol, well the distraction worked. np, my first through tenth draft is always full of mistakes somewhere that I don't catch stressed . If the typewriter can't keep up not my prob pirate .
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Posted: Tue Mar 27, 2007 4:10 pm
Fixed ^^
So, who did you like best? So far, Ive been the only one to be in love with Valcus, everyone else Ive talked to hates him xD
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Posted: Sun Apr 01, 2007 7:41 am
wow, this story i actually read, the whole thing, its a great plot and all, but maybe a bit too dramatic...
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Posted: Tue Apr 03, 2007 9:55 pm
Heehee, poor Valcus. *raises hand* I don't hate him!
Personally, I've always loved unhappy/bittersweet endings, so...The ending's right down my alley.
My lone critique: It's just my opinion, but the part with the wedding (ahem, wedding/funeral XD) just seems somewhat...detached. You kind of float back and forth between the characters, never getting to stay long enough to really sink in.
Eh, that sounds silly. confused
Great job. ^^
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Posted: Tue Apr 03, 2007 10:15 pm
hmm... tough sell.
the only thing i had a problem with is that it was a bit to straight and narrow. it didn't allow for much flow between characters until about half way into the story.
also, don't force your writing, if you can't figure out how to end a sentance, take a breather! smile don't make your mind think, its creativity, not factory labor! 4laugh anyways,
keep up the good work though this is definitely morphing into something much more than it seems to be at first!
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Posted: Tue Apr 03, 2007 11:02 pm
Thank you, you two! Ill keep all that in mind!
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Posted: Wed Apr 04, 2007 1:27 pm
Excellent advice, Michael. ^^
You're welcome!
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