Below the Stars. (need help)

[alsharid]

Nice. going well in my opinion. Keep it up, some of us need a pastime other than anime sometimes.

[Waste]

Thank you for the encouragement etc. Just to let everyone know I don't write short stories. If I continue this one it's going to be long, especially because it isn't even finished properly in my head. This is one of those stories that the characters have to tell. =]

Originally Posted by inuaudi101

yeah waste! ur rely good- id love 2 read more!!! hey im writting sumthing right now- but itz totally about inuyasha- i wuz wonderin- could u...reveiw it 4 me?

Ok. I could do a review from just those three lines.

1. Spelling and grammar. Honestly if you are a writer it doesn't matter where you're writing keep it literate. From that I just can't help but not want to read your written piece encase it is full of these errors/ your shortenings. I'm not being a grammar nazi here, making a point. =]

2. I haven't seen this anime, but really if you're going far as a writer do not base your work on other peoples. Even if you do not intend to publish a piece it will get you into bad habits. (Trust me I started out like this) it will get to the point where you've stomped out your imagination because you're feeding off of someone else's. Go ahead and get some inspiration from it but don't make it "totally about..."

Yeah I think I'm done with my review / waste's tips :P =]

Check back, if no one posts after this I may add in the next section of this piece. =]

Waste x

[Zero Ichi]

Originally Posted by Waste

Thank you for the encouragement etc. Just to let everyone know I don't write short stories. If I continue this one it's going to be long, especially because it isn't even finished properly in my head. This is one of those stories that the characters have to tell. =]

ha if its possible i wanna see the whole thing, when you get it done that is!!

im a writer too but i kinda wanna keep my stuff away from others' eyes, cuz theyre ideas for the games that i wanna create later on in life, dont want any leaks 5 years before i get the chance to even try and make them!

and yes inu, waste is correct, be creative and make your own, thats what people tend to appreciate in work, the fact that this came from the writers mind, not anothers (thats why i hate most rappers these days, stolen work from younger, and yes, better minds cause they dont have a good enough head to think their own shit up!!!)

but if your going after the storyline, i guess thats ok, theres a bunch of kids (cant remember the site, sorry) that are making their own manga to the afterstory of dragonball, dragonball z, and dragonball gt!

what theyre doing is pretty cool reviving a done series and making a fan-based storyline to what happens after, wish i could remember that site!!!!!!

[Waste]

He said, shrugging his shoulders, “You aren’t pretty, but you’re still a girl.” I pulled my head away and looked down again, still upset.

“My mum would call you a bully. She says I should tell her if I ever get bullied.”

“Sounds like you’re dad bullies you.” he prodded my shoulder a little too hard, it hurt but I didn’t say anything, not wanting to look bad in front of this strange, interesting, almost beautiful boy. I looked up at him, not sure how that could be true “Do you always do what your parents say?” I nodded; what else could I do? “Do you like doing what they say?” He followed up with another question, I shook my head. “Then they are bullies.” He drew up the conclusion and I found myself agreeing to his words. I nodded. He raised one of his thin blonde eyebrows and I giggled having never seen that done before I immediately tried it out myself, and failed. He grinned widely, “And there I was thinking I’d upset you.”

“You did.” I informed.

He shrugged, “But you aren’t upset anymore so I’m not a bully.”

“No.” I agreed. He nodded as if to say good then got to his feet, rolling his shoulders and then straightening his glasses. “Where are you going?”

“To the park.”

“On your own?”

“Yeah, see I don’t listen to my dad.” He puffed up his chest and gave a lop-sided smile. I was instantly in awe of him, this kid didn’t do as he was told, no one ordered him about. “I’m ten so I can go out on my own.”

“So no ones stops you?” I asked.

“Nope.”

“So they let you?”

“Yep.” My mouth fell open, and I swung my legs over the wall, wanting to stand on the other side and go to the park. In fact I was intent on doing it until I heard my dad’s voice, barking out of the front door.

“Cassidy. Come in. Now.”

The boy’s mouth formed into a small ‘o’ then he grinned and whispered “Oh he looks like a beastie.” His eyes flashed as I giggled, I’d never heard my dad described like that. I looked over my shoulder and smiled at my dad, he didn’t return the smile, and in fact he was looking at the boy now.

“And who are you?” he snapped. A flicker of something like fear went through the boy’s eyes but he quickly pulled himself together, slouching to the side a little, just like the insolent boy he would turn into.

“I’m Chance sir.” He nodded.

My dad raised his chin slightly. “You want to get away from my daughter kid?” he growled, even I leant back a little at the ferocity of his gaze. I swung my legs back over the wall and stood up, clutching Anne, I could feel the boy, Chance, watching me as I went towards my dad. My dad lowered his gaze to look at me, “You can leave that tattered thing out here.” He said, meaning Anne. I was about to loosen my grip on the doll when I remembered Chance, it felt as if he was still watching me, although when I looked back to the street he was gone.

“No.” I said, “I want to take Anne inside.” I looked back at my dad, jaw set and shoulders squared.

I have to admit that my father looked a little shocked at my answer, but not for long, I suppose I should have anticipated his reaction. He reached down and yanked Anne from my arms, I remember crying out and jumping as he threw my doll out of the front garden and into the street. I went to run to the street but he took my arm. “I said get inside.” he growled as he backed into the house, pulling me with him. I went obediently, head down, forcing back my tears. I could hear mum in the kitchen as she started dinner but I knew not to go in there, if I did she’d be crying and tell me to go away anyway.

So instead I climbed the stairs to my room, I‘d spend the rest of the day there, until dinner was ready. Even then I’d have to eat quickly and not talk and watch my manners or dad would shout. He used to shout a lot, mainly because he was always drunk or on the verge of being so.

I remember years later when mum told me that it wasn’t my dads fault, the drinking, he simply did it because he felt useless, he could not read very well, nor could he write, he had anger issues because he wasn’t very good at expressing himself. “He’ll come around.” She’d always say that, “One day your dad will realise how good he has it, and then everything will be fine.” There was no shifting her point of view. Her belief in him.