Writing For Emma

[Claire]

[size="1"]For this assignment, I had to select a newspaper headline (or radio, or TV, or just take any historical event in general) and write a story that happens alongside the event. I'm really happy with it and I actually managed to keep it under a thousand words, which was the upper limit.[/size]

[center]For Emma[/center]

There was no more air in the entire world. There was only smoke. Every breath was hot and black, fanning painful plumes of anger through his whole body. His clothes were on fireâ??his arms, his face. But he could not stop. Their mirthless laughter propelled him deeper into the furnace. He was going to find her, he was going to save herâ??

The sudden slam of the front door yanked Claus out of the inferno and placed him gently in the parlor of his house. The radio was softly crooning through curtains of static. His lungs were clean and the room was cool, and his arms were wrapped in thin bandages. The burning pain was reduced to a dull sting. The stench of smoke lingered, clinging to the wallpaper, buried deep between the cushions on the furniture. It would not go away no matter how lucid Claus felt.

He refocused. He was sitting at the table with his back to the window, where the glass had been smashed out by the butt of a rifle. The glow from the setting sun streamed in, spotlighting the paper laid flat in front of him. In his hand were two pieces of a charcoal pencil. He couldnâ??t remember snapping it. He only remembered the fireâ?¦.

â??Iâ??m back,â? called a voice.

He pushed his glasses higher up his nose. The frames were taped together in the middle. He remembered the sharp-knuckled fist that had broken them, the stream of blood that leaked out of his nostrils. But he couldnâ??t smell the coppery fluid; he could only smell smoke.

A few weeks after the fire, he went through the smoldering remains of his neighborsâ?? house. He hadnâ??t expected to find anything; he just preferred to see the ruins in reality than in his head. But lying on top of a charred piece of wood was a tiny black and white face, staring up at him. It was a photograph, melted down at the edges to a jagged oval. The fire had ruined everything in the photograph, except for one happy, friendly face. He lifted the picture with his fingernails, cradling it in his palm as if it were a living person.

For now, it was.

The girlâ??s smile was vibrant, even in grayscale. Claus traced the lines of her lips, her soft chin, her light-colored braids. They used to be golden. He knew her coat was navy blue, and he knew the ugly star sewn to her sleeve was the color of sulfur. As long as he knew, he didnâ??t mind that he couldnâ??t see the proper hues. But he couldnâ??t stand the big black dots that were supposed to be her eyes. He remembered staring into themâ??the real onesâ??for hours and hours, memorizing the exact shade of blue. It was like pieces of the sky had fallen into her eyes and stayed there.

â??Whatâ??s that youâ??re drawing?â?

His father had come up behind him and was peering over Clausâ??s head. The man was very tall and gangly. Claus knew he would look the same way in a few years, down to the straight yellow hair and boring brown eyes. Even now, he resembled an older man more than a he did a fifteen year old boy. He was already much taller than any of his classmates. At least, he had been the last time he saw them. Claus had not been to school in months. Not since the night of the fire.

â??Claus?â? his father said.

â??Emma. Iâ??m drawing Emma.â?

His father was silent. He waited there for a moment, then put his hand on his sonâ??s shoulder.

Claus sketched two small egg-shapes for the girlâ??s eyes. He would be sure to do them more justice than the photograph had. They deserved the best, the way they made him feel like he was drowning in his riches. Surely they had that effect on everyone, even those soldiersâ?¦that must be why they had taken her and her family away, so they could look at the eyes all the timeâ?¦.

â??We interrupt this program to bring you an important news bulletin.â?

Clausâ??s father rushed to the radio and twisted the volume knob, and his mother appeared in the room looking frantic and scared. There was a booming nasally voice, practically screaming with excitement.

â??ON THE FIRST OF MAY, ADOLF HITLER WAS FOUND DEAD--â?

That was all Claus could hear. The rest of the announcement was drowned out by the unbridled cheering of the two adults, and by the noises in his own head. There was a whole crowd in his brain, celebrating. The crowd was full of people in blue coats with stars on their sleeves. They were pouring out of a burning building, laughing and applauding. They were safe and free.

â??Does this mean the war is over?â? he said when the shouting died down. His father gently gripped his shoulder, careful to not irritate the burns beneath the bandages. There was a radiant, hopeful smile plastered on to his face.

â??Itâ??s as good as!â? he said.

Claus glanced back at the photograph. â??And that means Emma will be able to come home?â?

His fatherâ??s smile twitched ever so slightly. The happiness in the room seemed to dwindle as quickly as it had erupted.

â??Well,â? he said, looking down at the floor, â??I donâ??t know about that. She canâ??t exactly go home. Her house burned down.â?

â??But she will come back.â?

His father did not look up. Instead, he looked at the photograph. Claus wondered if his fatherâ??s stomach did the same somersaults at the sight of the girl. The thought suddenly made him angry and jealous. He pulled the photograph closer to his chest. His father said nothing.

â??Emma will come back,â? he said, returning to his drawing. He wanted to finish it before he saw her again.

[Vicky]

(No replies? Why is this forum dead D=)

I thought I'd just give a bit of feedback but it's only my opinion.

Your use of language is again impeccable. There's some lovely phrasing here and you managed to keep me interested and read every word - even the greatest writers have a habit of writing blocks of descriptions and I normally skip those. You've certainly done well at compressing such a good idea into 1000 words.

There are a few phrases that stand out, though, such as:

"His father had come up behind him and was peering over Clausâ??s head. [i]The man was very tall and gangly.[/i] "

Even though I'm a fan of concise descriptions and not long masterful poetic winding ones this sentence didn't fit in. It just felt like it was thrown in at the last minute and maybe needs a bit of work - but that's my opinion, maybe you like it there.

The only other negative thing I can say is Claus. At the beginning I thought he was older, at least a older teenager, but towards the end he sounded like a very young child. I'm not sure his exact age and what you intended for him but it's portrayed differently at the beginning and the end - the Claus I read at the end, for instance, asking his father if Emma could come home, is not one I imagined being burnt or being smashed in the face. That was the only thing I didn't like; I couldn't pinpoint how old he was. However, I'm sure that differs from reader to reader but that's just me.

Overall very nicely written and I thoroughly enjoyed it =). Edited December 3, 2010 by Vicky