I would like a critique for this rough draft I’m writing for my creative fiction writing class?
Atop this hill is where it happened, where I lost everything and anything precious to me. It’s atop this hill where the only reason I kept moving forward stopped pushing me and ceased moving altogether. It was atop this hill that I decided to find out who did this and it is upon this very hill that I will take them and judge them for what they have done to me…for what they did to her. It all seems so unreal, so much like a dream that starts off innocent enough but quickly turns to shit right when things seem so cheerful. However, unlike a dream, I can’t seem to wake up. It’s been two years since I found her here, lying peacefully , undisturbed, and just as beautiful as those days when we used to lay in that exact stop and look at the stars. This time however she wouldn’t move when I nudged her, she would answer when I said her name, and she no longer was there to console me when the tears came. I stayed with her for several hours just knelling their chain smoking cigarette after cigarette, something I was planning on quitting with her help. I stayed their till I no longer had tears left to give, till my throat felt raw and on fire from the constant supply of smoke, till I realized what It was I had to do. Ever since that day I return to this hill. I return to this hill and I lay down in the spot where I found her. I lay and I think. “Who could have done this?”, “Why did they do this?”, and “What can I do to them when I find them that will make them suffer?” These are the questions I ask myself as I sort through a mental list of possible suspects and their motivations. It’s as I lay here upon this hill that something unexpected is about to happen. Its upon this hill that a new lead reveals itself to me and its upon this hill that I finally start down the ever twisting road of revenge.
- I Have Krabs
