I have a lot to say. First of all, I'm not sure what I would rate this, probably either T or M in literature terms (provided by the rules). The Prologue should be as bad as it gets, so whoever reads this, please help me decide on a rating.
Next, the plot of this story will not be apparent early in the story, or maybe throughout the whole thing at all. If you read the Prologue though, you will quickly recognize this story will be unique compared to others you have read (most likely), and hopefully still interesting, though the Prologue can't get too exciting. I just hope you give it a try as this story is very important to me in a way.
I would really love constructive criticism on this story, because as I said, it's important to me. I also hope you don't judge the story by the first chapter (Prologue technically) since not too much can happen in it. There was much more I wanted to say, but I've forgotten, so start reading and please leave your comments.
Beep.
His watch broke the silence from behind the blinds on the window sill. He always put his watch there before he got into bed to go to sleep. Tonight was different though. He normally didn't set his watch to go off at any specific time, but the day he had just gone through had caused him to do it tonight. He had been trying to think everything over and calm himself down for the last three hours since he'd been in bed, but it was no use. There was nothing else to do. He felt like he should have just given up a long time ago.
The watch itself wasn't very loud; the noise was as loud as a random click that came from your electronics every once in a while. It actually hadn't broken the silence. The breathing of his brother was the only noise he had heard for the past three hours. He moved hardly a muscle in the bed he was in. The rhythm of the breathing didn't change once the sound went off, but he asked anyway, in a normal voice so he could sound as casual as possible, "Are you still awake Keenan?"
There was no reply, so he got out of bed, with some small trouble, having not moved much for three hours straight. He grabbed his watch from behind the curtains and blinds, the cold air consuming his hand as soon as it reached behind the blinds. He didn't understand why that area was always cold. It might have been something involving a lot of technical stuff like science, but that wasn't what he was concerned about right now. After successfully retrieving the watch, he walked to the bathroom, being as quiet as possible.
You know this isn't the right choice, Cass. There are better options. Just continue laying in bed until you fall asleep. It's all over and will continue that way, just like always. These thoughts kept racing through his mind as his heart raced while sneaking to the bathroom. It was directly to the left as he left his bedroom, so he entered quickly. Once he was in securely, with the door locked, he turned both the light and fan on. If anyone had awaken besides him, they wouldn't be able to hear anything happening in the bathroom, because of the fan.
The bathroom wasn't the cleanest nor dirtiest bathroom. It was bright to him after having been engulfed in darkness for three hours, because of the eight lightbulbs shining down on him as well as the pale, white counters and toilet lighting the place up a slight bit more. The counters came first, then the toilet to the right of them, and the bathtub finishing the area up. A small space behind the door but to the left of the counters contained a narrow closet with many shelves, where towels and various shampoos and soaps rested. He walked to the toilet and pulled his pants and boxers down, then sat on the cold surface. Goosebumps appeared on his legs and thighs, so he pushed his hand onto his thighs and slid them across his thighs to his legs to get rid of the goosebumps.
He reached for his left butt-pocket in his pants and retrieved a silver object from it. There were various tools held within it, but he found the knife tool and opened it up. He himself personally called it a pocketknife as the sharp blade held out in front of him was the only tool he used of the object. Still thinking about his day, he hesitated, then examined himself.
There were already two red lines parallel to each other horizontally on his left leg, particularly in the area above his knee, further up a few inches. In the same area on his right leg, there was one red line horizontally and a vertical red line below it, but the vertical one was faded compared to the other three. He set the pocketknife onto the higher up area of his legs, then slid his fingers down his legs, feeling the bumps of the red lines as he crossed over them. For the last few days, he had been trying to avoid coming to this resolution, as it was normally just a compulsion. Sadly, those few days were the longest he had gone.
Still, flashbacks continued to race through his head. He picked up the pocketknife and gently pushed the tip of the blade under the most southern scar on his left leg. I love you Colton. Then he forced the blade into his skin and slowly slid it to the right, blood trailing the tip.
Next, the plot of this story will not be apparent early in the story, or maybe throughout the whole thing at all. If you read the Prologue though, you will quickly recognize this story will be unique compared to others you have read (most likely), and hopefully still interesting, though the Prologue can't get too exciting. I just hope you give it a try as this story is very important to me in a way.
I would really love constructive criticism on this story, because as I said, it's important to me. I also hope you don't judge the story by the first chapter (Prologue technically) since not too much can happen in it. There was much more I wanted to say, but I've forgotten, so start reading and please leave your comments.
Prologue
Beep.
His watch broke the silence from behind the blinds on the window sill. He always put his watch there before he got into bed to go to sleep. Tonight was different though. He normally didn't set his watch to go off at any specific time, but the day he had just gone through had caused him to do it tonight. He had been trying to think everything over and calm himself down for the last three hours since he'd been in bed, but it was no use. There was nothing else to do. He felt like he should have just given up a long time ago.
The watch itself wasn't very loud; the noise was as loud as a random click that came from your electronics every once in a while. It actually hadn't broken the silence. The breathing of his brother was the only noise he had heard for the past three hours. He moved hardly a muscle in the bed he was in. The rhythm of the breathing didn't change once the sound went off, but he asked anyway, in a normal voice so he could sound as casual as possible, "Are you still awake Keenan?"
There was no reply, so he got out of bed, with some small trouble, having not moved much for three hours straight. He grabbed his watch from behind the curtains and blinds, the cold air consuming his hand as soon as it reached behind the blinds. He didn't understand why that area was always cold. It might have been something involving a lot of technical stuff like science, but that wasn't what he was concerned about right now. After successfully retrieving the watch, he walked to the bathroom, being as quiet as possible.
You know this isn't the right choice, Cass. There are better options. Just continue laying in bed until you fall asleep. It's all over and will continue that way, just like always. These thoughts kept racing through his mind as his heart raced while sneaking to the bathroom. It was directly to the left as he left his bedroom, so he entered quickly. Once he was in securely, with the door locked, he turned both the light and fan on. If anyone had awaken besides him, they wouldn't be able to hear anything happening in the bathroom, because of the fan.
The bathroom wasn't the cleanest nor dirtiest bathroom. It was bright to him after having been engulfed in darkness for three hours, because of the eight lightbulbs shining down on him as well as the pale, white counters and toilet lighting the place up a slight bit more. The counters came first, then the toilet to the right of them, and the bathtub finishing the area up. A small space behind the door but to the left of the counters contained a narrow closet with many shelves, where towels and various shampoos and soaps rested. He walked to the toilet and pulled his pants and boxers down, then sat on the cold surface. Goosebumps appeared on his legs and thighs, so he pushed his hand onto his thighs and slid them across his thighs to his legs to get rid of the goosebumps.
He reached for his left butt-pocket in his pants and retrieved a silver object from it. There were various tools held within it, but he found the knife tool and opened it up. He himself personally called it a pocketknife as the sharp blade held out in front of him was the only tool he used of the object. Still thinking about his day, he hesitated, then examined himself.
There were already two red lines parallel to each other horizontally on his left leg, particularly in the area above his knee, further up a few inches. In the same area on his right leg, there was one red line horizontally and a vertical red line below it, but the vertical one was faded compared to the other three. He set the pocketknife onto the higher up area of his legs, then slid his fingers down his legs, feeling the bumps of the red lines as he crossed over them. For the last few days, he had been trying to avoid coming to this resolution, as it was normally just a compulsion. Sadly, those few days were the longest he had gone.
Still, flashbacks continued to race through his head. He picked up the pocketknife and gently pushed the tip of the blade under the most southern scar on his left leg. I love you Colton. Then he forced the blade into his skin and slowly slid it to the right, blood trailing the tip.
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