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Ok cool here is a story that I need somene to look over and give suggestions on, and I will read yours.
I am Avalon Leythri and I will tell you of my fate, which sadly you must hear:
I walked down the long winding dirt road that led out beyond the market place. My skirt was flowing around me on the windy day. I walked alone. The market had once been a lively place full of warmth, but the spark was gone. Wilted tomatoes hung on dead vines. There was dust gathered all around, and all of the cashiers had scowls on their faces which showed their extreme hatred for pretty much everything. I glanced down at my shopping list: lamp oil, grain, and rope. These things were scarce. Everything was scarce these days.
I remembered when my papa worked here. His smile was big enough to warm up that whole town. Nowadays, I never seen him smile. The secret Revolution is all he ever talks about, which is a bit ironic since its secret! He talks about how corrupt the government is, how they can even take away our basic rights.
My papa knew that if he was discovered to be a part of the Revolution, he would’ve been captured and killed. Even talking out against the government was forbidden, let alone acting against them. That’s why I couldn’t talk about the revolution to anyone outside our family.
The government suspected a rebellion. What they didn’t suspect was that the Revolution was so strong that we could overthrow them, provided we armed ourselves with the bombs we’d been working on. But still that wasn’t what I wanted. That wasn’t what any of the women wanted, but the men never stopped and asked us our opinion anymore.
The importance of women had been long forgotten, along with the good old days my mind often wandered too. The days when people greeted each other, happily with a smile. Or when we danced together on the streets listening to the sound of flutes, and cooking birds to eat later in the night. I wondered why we never danced anymore, but it didn’t take me long to remember our controlling society. So right then I decide I would dance. So as I danced down the road I earned the looks of everyone in the marketplace. Their looks were cold, and full of judgment and disapproval.
While I progressed down the road, I saw a glimmer coming from the entrance to the forest. I leapt gracefully along, cutting my bare feet on the rocks as I made my way toward the small shine. I could have sworn it was just my mind playing tricks on me but I started to hear the magical high pitched sound of the flute, the same melody we used to play in the old days. I then saw a man playing on a rock nearby. When he saw me dancing, he stood up and I assumed he would strike me down. Since dancing was frowned upon those days, but before I know it he had joined me in dance along the narrow forest road.
The shine in his eyes hypnotised me. He placed his arm around my waist and gently lifted my hand and started to twirl me round and round. I felt him spinning me faster and faster, and I felt myself slipping away from reality. I started to feel very tired but couldn’t pull myself away from his grasp. The last thing I remembered before nodding off into the abyss was looking into those mysterious deep set eyes.
When I awoke I felt a warm blanket covering my body, and my head was laid upon a feather pillow. I realised that I had never sleep that well in my entire life, and the old rag of a dress I was wearing had been replaced by a silk nightgown. I had no idea where I was, and I remember thinking to myself about a conversation me and father had when I was not yet 8.
“Avy” my father said, “One day you might wake up in a strange place. You may be confused and maybe even scared, but don't worry me darling I’ll come and bring ya home.”
I simply replied, “I’ll be there waiting with my arms open wide.”
“Mind you now, don’t be a talking to anyone bout daddys work when you're gone, ya hear?” He asked me with a slight edge to his voice.
“I would never tell a soul” I replied.
“Pinky promise?”asked papa.
“Pinky promise!” I chimed back.
I assumed that this is what he had been talking about. I was lucky I even remembered that day, it had been more than 8 years ago. Now; however, I knew what he had been talking about. I then realised he had not been talking about his work in the marketplace but the secret Revolution.
I felt lightheaded when I realised I had been kidnapped for information about my fathers secret revolution. I wondered if it was the government who was holding me captive, and if so would they harm me to gain knowledge of the uprising?
I then remembered that I had not even lifted the covers off my head to see where I was yet. When I stepped emerged from the cave of my own body heat I found that I was a bedroom quite like my own. The Draperies were imprinted with flowers, and the ground was covered with rugs that looked like they imported from far away.
I tried the door and it was not locked. When I opened it, to my surprise there was a small kitchen with a deep sink and a wood burning stove, and behind a small wooden wall there was a toilet with a water basin and cotton towel laid beside it. These were luxuries us townspeople had not enjoyed for many a year.
I then walked to a door laid in the back of the kitchen that had been hidden from my view by the shadows that lingered around it. I was afraid to open it, in fear of finding the man who kidnapped me or someone even worse!
After I calmed myself I slowly inched the door open, it was made of solid metal and hard for a girl like me to pull. Once I opened the door far enough I slipped through only to find, very strange carriages speeding by and my ears were met with many strange honking sounds. There were tall buildings made of glass that reflected everything happening around it. I felt out of place. There were oddly dressed people rushing around with one of their hands waving to the strange yellow carriages and the other pressing an odd little metal box against their ears.
There were strange signs all around with oddly shaped letters imprinted on them. It was too bad I had never learned how to read, or else I may have been able to decipher them for clues as to where I was.
I knew my father would come for me, but I was not sure if he would get here before someone from the government came to fetch me. I started to run as fast as I could. I knew that it would be harder for the agents to find me if I was not waiting there like a sitting duck. l was not the only one in a rush. Everyone here seemed to hurrying. The strange was that no one seemed to notice me. I wondered why they were not trying to get information out of me, or at least doing something besides ignore me.
I found a dark alley that I could slip down to avoid being seen. I squeezed between the two walls gasping for breath. When I finally reached the end of the alley i was let out in a enclosed area with a couple of shops and a gate blocking off a river where the ducks were resting. I entered one of the little stores, and it was decorated very strangely. There were tall skinny tables covered with checkered cloth, and there was a man sleeping behind a strange counter with a variety of breads and pastries enclosed inside it.
I ducked into some strange booth that was hooked to the wall, way in the back of the little shop.
okay, pretty good idea... I kind of really like it but there are a couple of things that detract. first, there are a few minor gramatical errors, but I don't blame you for them really. I also think the story moves too quick. While I realize that this probably is not the full story, there are parts that are cheapened because they are too rushed. And I hate to say it, but they do bring in the cheese factor.... like when she starts dancing, I totally like that part, but you don't really explain her motives or her mental torment, you just jump to 'then I started dancing down the street'(not those precise words I guess...) in a couple parts this is the case, a few being her fisrt reaction to the room she wakes in(she says she is afraid of the door, but her mental torment is again only said to have happened, not explained. the explanation of the mental stuff is always my favorite part of a story, sorry, but for me this is an unfortunate thing to be missing.) and also when she realizes what has happened to her(she just says something like 'I then realized that I've been kidnapped because of my dad's job-and not the one at the market!' first, it is very obvious you don't mean the job in the market...so it makes the story a little too lead, you know? a real good story lets a reader make their own assumptions when they are obvious.
I do really like the backstory with her dad, I think that that was really well done, however after the story is where the real difficult stuff was. okay, so this wis a generic one for this section, and the begining too, but mostly this section after the backstory. You overuse the word 'I'. I know, I know, you can't write the story in first person without the word 'I', but almost every single sentence starts with 'I went', 'I found', and, most oboxiously, 'I remembered'. she remembers everything, and again I know this is a past tense narrative, but it is excrutiating for me that there is no thought process to revelations just 'I remembered I hadn't lifted the covers of my bed' okay, fine you don't need thought process in the example, but she doesn't need to remember this, she just has to DO it.
Okay, sorry, that was a realy long response. I don't meanf to imply that this was a bad story by my long response, but I really liked the idea and I think that there are just these things which need to be fixed for it to be very good. good luck, great story!