Hello!
I wrote this for a competition in my area and I am looking for advice to improve my writing ability for the future please! Just suggest anything that comes to mind. All constructive criticisms are more than welcome! Here it is (it had to be no longer than 500 words. This is 500.
)
Glass.
The old man was glass. That was Luke's first thought. For a start the man looked smashed, like a broken shard. His thick grey hair dangled down untidily. His whole body seemed to be disfigured, bent out of proportion slightly. His legs were shockingly thin like twigs about to snap at the slightest movement. One of his eyes, once deep blue and watery, was bloodshot, oozing red and twitching in pain. His nose was crooked and seemed to stretch far out in front of his wrinkled face. His whole body was trembling like a terrified animal as he stared at Luke. His back was hunched over, relying on only a thin stick of wood to keep him standing.
But Luke also thought of glass because it seemed he could see straight through the old man. It was like a whole layer of him had been torn off, erased like a drawing in a notepad. Luke could tell that the old man had suffered. He'd loved someone dearly and kept them close to his heart. But that lover had died, and as they did his heart had broken away along with them. The man was broken, a smashed sheet of glass with rigid edges and a stained hatred of love on his heart. And as the man stood there, twitching and breathing heavily, blowing frosted air into Luke's face, the 14 year old boy felt sorry for him.
And then he heard it.
The words seemed to just slither out of the man's slobbering mouth. Words that didn't make sense together, like they were just thoughts and feelings that he couldn't help blurting out.
"Cold. Alone. Dark. Sad. Dread."
Luke's eyes widened in horror as the man poured out his feelings; they dribbled down him like a waterfall in a croaking voice.
"Anger. Hatred. Broken."
Suddenly the old man lifted his arm and slowly searched for the floor behind him, placing his walking stick. He turned and limped back into the darkness of the corridor. It suddenly occurred to Luke that he had no idea where he was, or what he was doing here. He felt a surge of fear spread through him as darkness hung over like a heavy coat hanger.
Bang.
The chilling sound echoed, ringing in Luke's ears. Suddenly he was cold and dizzy. Was it thunder? No, it was too loud. Luke turned his head to the side and then he saw it. There was a glass mirror right next to him, but it was cracked, with frosty jagged lines stretching away from a deadly eye at the center. A bullet hole.
Quickly, he turned around and noticed a thick wooden door at the end of the corridor, shrouded in darkness. Luke ran forward towards it, but he could feel his legs shaking as he did so, his head spinning, his heart pounding so hard it could burst. All of a sudden there was a painfully thin high pitched noise.
Luke Henfield was never seen again.
I'm particularly unsure about the "heavy coat hanger" simile. What do you think?
I wrote this for a competition in my area and I am looking for advice to improve my writing ability for the future please! Just suggest anything that comes to mind. All constructive criticisms are more than welcome! Here it is (it had to be no longer than 500 words. This is 500.
)Glass.
The old man was glass. That was Luke's first thought. For a start the man looked smashed, like a broken shard. His thick grey hair dangled down untidily. His whole body seemed to be disfigured, bent out of proportion slightly. His legs were shockingly thin like twigs about to snap at the slightest movement. One of his eyes, once deep blue and watery, was bloodshot, oozing red and twitching in pain. His nose was crooked and seemed to stretch far out in front of his wrinkled face. His whole body was trembling like a terrified animal as he stared at Luke. His back was hunched over, relying on only a thin stick of wood to keep him standing.
But Luke also thought of glass because it seemed he could see straight through the old man. It was like a whole layer of him had been torn off, erased like a drawing in a notepad. Luke could tell that the old man had suffered. He'd loved someone dearly and kept them close to his heart. But that lover had died, and as they did his heart had broken away along with them. The man was broken, a smashed sheet of glass with rigid edges and a stained hatred of love on his heart. And as the man stood there, twitching and breathing heavily, blowing frosted air into Luke's face, the 14 year old boy felt sorry for him.
And then he heard it.
The words seemed to just slither out of the man's slobbering mouth. Words that didn't make sense together, like they were just thoughts and feelings that he couldn't help blurting out.
"Cold. Alone. Dark. Sad. Dread."
Luke's eyes widened in horror as the man poured out his feelings; they dribbled down him like a waterfall in a croaking voice.
"Anger. Hatred. Broken."
Suddenly the old man lifted his arm and slowly searched for the floor behind him, placing his walking stick. He turned and limped back into the darkness of the corridor. It suddenly occurred to Luke that he had no idea where he was, or what he was doing here. He felt a surge of fear spread through him as darkness hung over like a heavy coat hanger.
Bang.
The chilling sound echoed, ringing in Luke's ears. Suddenly he was cold and dizzy. Was it thunder? No, it was too loud. Luke turned his head to the side and then he saw it. There was a glass mirror right next to him, but it was cracked, with frosty jagged lines stretching away from a deadly eye at the center. A bullet hole.
Quickly, he turned around and noticed a thick wooden door at the end of the corridor, shrouded in darkness. Luke ran forward towards it, but he could feel his legs shaking as he did so, his head spinning, his heart pounding so hard it could burst. All of a sudden there was a painfully thin high pitched noise.
Luke Henfield was never seen again.
I'm particularly unsure about the "heavy coat hanger" simile. What do you think?
