Twelve year old Lysabeth, gold locks tainting her beautiful yet hidden visage. Hidden along the treeline masked by the cold and dampened fog which aided her in her plight. But with this aid came a double edged sword; she was cold, alone and freightened. Without her beloved Brotin Lieshang, she was nothing but a mere child now, trapped in a forest of wonderous things...scary things. But she bit her lip, angered that she had been stuck here, while the families were going unchecked, derranged by the evil which plagued at the core. The same evil which had ended her dear Brotin's life. That evil which still lurked around each corner, looking for her. As Lysabeth looked up to the silver moon and her soft gaze, the gentle forest closed his arms around dear Lysabeth. Cooing and rocking the little girl to sleep only a smile could creep upon Lysabeths teirs of new hatred.1
Awaken in a stir, feeling some flames of hatred, Lysabeth jumped, startled greatly. Had they finally found her? The families, they must have. The great forest, captured in flames. Little Lysabeth scanned about the forest with her great orbs, verticle tiers tuned, hearing the wails of this great beast which had been the forest. But now it was only the forest aflame. With another mighty wail the forest had grabbed hold of Lysabeth, and removed her from the worlds of pain around her. She could still feel the flames. She could always feel the flames. Laughter...she could hear that man laughing.2
With a final burst of laughter, our young Lysabeth had awoken, but where? The moon, with her silver embrace was not in this place. Lysabeth's beautiful flesh was tainted by those flames and the moon had forgotten her. Mother moon, why have you forgotten your daughter? Can you just not see her? Lysabeth managed to bring a soft hand to her face, to feel the scars. Deadly scars which plagued her mind. How could a twelve year old deal with such a mark? Just a symbol of the families trying to end her, and how she survived a second time. But where was she? Lysabeth looked around in confusion, and could not find where she was. Poor girl, lost and with no where to go to find her way.3
Cold and alone, our young Lysabeth could do but one thing, move. She moved past all what appeared to be trees, but they couldn't be. Transparent with an aqua tint as she looked right through them. Where was she? Were these the ghosts of the trees that were burnt? Or was she somewhere else? A gentle call for help she had echoed through this wonderous place. But not an answer, just a chilling silence. How could no one be here in this beautiful place? Maybe it was the spirits of the dead forest. And if so, then she was alone again and nothing could console that. The only thing to console her was to remain vigilant in her thought that this was not the grave yard of the forest. Death couldn't be that beautiful.4
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Comments
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Well, to fix most of the problems you have stated, this is a sequel. If you would read the first story, then maybe you'd understand this one a little better. But yeah, I do agree, it was short. I did use her name a lot. A classic case of writer's block, mostly. But I do appreciate your input thank you.
But if you don't have time to read the other story. Basically, families of high name battled. A family took her in, and raised her. The head of the family is that guy. He died protecting her, yada yada. She's the 'last hero' basically. All the hero's died. You should just read the other story. It's decent. -
Two fragments is not a way to start off a story.
I got disconnected last time I commented, so here is my condensed version. It's going to be a bit blunt; I need to remember my points.
-You used her name too much. Usually people alternate between a name, a pronoun, a race, or some other physical characteristic like "the little girl"
-This is not about a forest. I specifically called for that. This is about a girl in the forest.
-What happened? The plot and details are sketchy. It's hard to follow. Did the forest burn? Who are the families?
-This person that your protagonist loved. Who was he? Was he a brother, a friend, a father, a lover? Tell me more.
-You need to add depth to this. Your character is flat, one dementional. She needs a history. She needs more than a name and blonde hair.
-What race is she?
-Spellcheck. Spellcheck. Spellcheck.
-This is far too short. I specifically asked for long stories. Four paragraphs is too little a space to get in a good well developed story, unless you're going for some heavy symbolism. I've read one really good three paragraph story. Only one.
-I'm going to take this out of the contest. The reasons above are the reasons why.
If you want this to be considered. Rewrite it. Make it longer. Fix those things I said above. And re read the rules to this contest.
It's a good try, and if you can get your idea across, then it would be a great story. It feels as though you have trouble on action. Most of this is her thoughts, and even those are sketchy. If you're finding trouble writing action or plot, try first person. Pretend you're Lysabeth and pretend you're going through this.
-Arias' Son
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