Promise of Reunion

If you are sensitive to suicide then read at your own risk.

This is a story about how my sister and I’s characters Zack and Abelle met. For a bit of background, Zack is an Incubus (look it up) who is taking a walk around a town that he is visiting due to work. Abelle is a human who is doing the same, deciding to stop and soak in the view at a bridge that connects the town to another.

Zack is my character while Abelle belongs to my sister, who was nice enough to allow me to use her character for this story. Follow her on instagram (@Space_papiii) For awesome art and characters that are going to be in upcoming short stories and books.

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It was late at night, around 11:30 P.M.. Zack had just gotten done taking the soul of yet another lonely woman in the town. Zack let out a heavy sigh as he ran a hand through his hair, not paying attention to anything as he walked with his head hung low. The feeling of his phone vibrating in his pocket caused him to take it out to see who it was.

Just as he thought, It was his brother, Mike. Zack knew exactly why he was calling, he wanted to hear about the woman and what had happened. Being in no mood to talk, he put his phone back in his pocket and continued to walk. Zack would be lying if he said he wasn’t disgusted with himself for what he had to do every night, for tricking women into sleeping with him all so that he could take their souls in the end.

As he walked down the empty street, he thought about what his life would have been like if he was born a human insead of an incubus. He thought about having a normal childhood with a normal brought, growing up a normal life, and finally meeting that person he had longed to meet. That special person he could hold close without having feelings of shame.

Zack stopped once he got to the bridge separating the town he was in and the town that was next. But, he didn’t stop because he wanted to, he stopped because of what he saw. Standing on the bridge, leaning over the edge a bit to look down was a man who looked to be in his early twenties just standing there. And as Zack saw him, he felt a strong and powerful urge to go over and speak to him. So, that’s exactly what he did.

He walked over to the man and stood next to him, leaning over a bit to look down like he was doing. As Zack looked down, he got a little nervous when he saw just how deep the pit was. Granted, if he fell nothing would happen, but it still made him nervous. The man didn’t say anything and just kept staring on, looking down over the ledge. When Zack glanced over at him, he noticed how sad the man looked. Zack then cleared his throat.

“It’s um...A nice night tonight.” Zack said in a soft voice. The man didn’t look away from the edge, however.

“Yeah, I guess it is…” The man mumbled back. Zack then took in his appearance. The man was very skinny and his clothes looked like he had just gotten back from a rave.

“Correct me if i’m wrong, but i’m assuming you like to go to raves?” Zack questioned. Almost as soon as the words left his mouth, the man looked over at him with great speed. This caught Zack off guard, of course but what stunned him most was the man's eyes. They were the most beautiful mixture of blue and green he had ever seen. He began to stare at them for so long he almost didn’t hear the man’s response.

“Yeah, I do. Do you?” The man asked in response.

“Oh, uh…” Zack cleared his throat a bit and turned towards the edge again as he felt the heat spread across his face.

“I-I’ve been once or twice.” Zack replied and the man nodded, facing back to the edge as well.

“What brings you out here so late?” The man asked in a quiet voice again. Zack glanced over at him and took a moment to think of something to say.

“I was visiting a friend and we lost track of time. Now I'm on my way home but thought I should stop and have a chat with you.” Zack answered before mentally facepalming for adding the last detail. The man let out a soft chuckle before sighing.

“Thank you. I needed one positive thing to happen before I leave.” The man said as he looked up from the edge with a large smile on his face. Zack, however, was confused.

“What do you mean, “leave.” Are you moving away or something?” Zack asked but the man didn’t respond. He simply grabbed onto the short wall of the bridge and climbed up, standing with his feet barely over the edge as he held onto a light pole. Zack’s eyes went wide as he suddenly realised what he meant.

“Whoa...Get down from there, we can talk this out. You don’t have to jump…” Zack spoke slowly and calmly, watching the man smile at Zack.

“Thanks but you already have given me a wonderful last conversation. Thank you.” The man said before letting go of the light pole and falling back.

As if his body moved on his own, Zack also got up on the wall and dived down after him. The moment his feet left the wall, he felt his body go numb and time seemed to slow down as thousands of thoughts flooded his mind.

‘Why am I doing this? I don’t even know him.’

Zack saw him, the light from the light pole making his features slowly fade into shadow. But even then, he could still see the shocked expression on his face.

‘I just met him a few minutes ago, why do I want to help him?’

Luckily, Zacks weight caused him to fall quicker, gaining on him more and more as the ground grew ever closer.

‘I’m always taking lives...But, he’s different, somehow...He deserves to live, even if he doesn’t want to…’

Zack reached his hand out to the man and grabbed onto his arm.

‘I want him to live!’

As Zack grabbed onto him, he moved the man into his chest, Zack’s back facing the ground. The world suddenly went back to normal and the two hit the ground hard, Zack letting out a loud grunt of pain while he held the man close and tight.

There was a few seconds of silence as he didn’t let go of the man, squeezing him tight as he waited for the shock of hitting the ground to go away. The man didn’t say anything either, the shock of everything keeping him from speaking. After a minute or two, Zack slowly sat up, still holding onto the man tight.

“A-Are you alright…?” Zack asked slowly before the man pulled away from him, quickly moving away from him.

“Why the hell did you do that?! You ruined everything!” The man yelled at Zack, making him flinch.

“I was finally about to solve all of my problems! I was about to finally be free and you took that away from me!” The man shouted as tears began to form in his eyes.

“You might have thought it was going to solve everything but imagine how your friends would feel if you actually died?” Zack asked with concern dripping from his words. He then watched as the man wiped the tears from his eyes.

“Do you think I would be here if I had any real friends?” The man asked as he grabbed the sleeves of his shirt and kept his eyes down. Zack paused for a moment, not sure what to say or how he could make the situation any better.

“We could be friends.” Zack said with a smile. The man looked up at him in confusion.

"What?" He asked in disbelief and Zack rubbed the back of his neck.

"Yeah...M-Maybe we could...Go to a rave sometime." He mumbled in an attempt to hide his nervousness. The man let out a soft laugh, sniffing as he began to wipe away more tears.

"I...I'd like that." The man said with a smile. Zack felt the heat spread across his face yet again as the stranger smiled back at him. The two then slowly stood up.

"I'm Abelle. What's your name?" The man asked, catching Zack off guard.

"Oh, uh, it's Zack." He answered and Abelle nodded.

"Well, come on, Zack. There's a staircase over here somewhere, down here is actually a popular nature hike trail." Abelle said as he grabbed Zack's wrist, starting to walk the two hown the trail.

Once they found the staircase, they left the trail and Abelle let out a breath of disbelief as he turned to Zack.

"Are you hurt in anyway?" Abelle asked with concern as he went over to Zack. Zack gave him a smile and shrugged.

"I may have some bruising on my back but I'll be fine. I'm more concerned for you, though." He commented and Abelle let out a small laugh.

"You took most of the damage. I should be rushing you to a hospital!" Abelle exclaimed with another laugh. Zack also let out a soft chuckle before taking out his phone, amazed that it wasn't completely broken.

"Here, let me give you my number." Zack told Abelle as he reached out his hand. Abelle got his phone out and gave it to him, allowing Zack to input each others numbers into the phone's. Once Zack was done, he gave Abelle his phone back.

"Alright, so I guess I'll message you later." Zack said before turning and beginning to walk away.

"Promise me we will hang out!" Abelle called out, causing Zack to come to a halt. Zack turned around and nodded with a smile and continued to walk away. Zack held his phone close to his chest and smiled to himself, the warmth turning his face a light red.

'I promise…'

Reviews

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Heyya! This is going great, I didn't complete reading it but soon I will. Its going really great, loved the representation of dialogue part its been a lot problematic for me to add dialogues but yours sounds really swift to go through.

[Knight731]

Thank you very much! I appreciate the kind words!

[JayG]

• I know my stories arent the best but I still want to share them.

Here’s a thought. Why not figure out why your stories aren’t what you want them to be, so you can fix the problems and write the best stories? Don't make the mistake of thinking the problem is you. It's not.

At the moment you suffer a misunderstanding you’re not aware of, because it’s shared by everyone else in your school—including the teachers. You think you were taught how to write. But what kind of writing did you do? Did a single teacher spent even a minute on what the elements of a scene on the page are? How about why a scene on the page and one on the screen are so different? After all, if you don’t know what a scene is, how can you write one? Right?

Think about the ratio of reports and essays you were assigned, compared to stories. But of more importance, think about the difference between fiction and nonfiction.

Nonfiction—those reports and essays you spend so much time working on—has an informational goal of clearly and concisely informing the reader of events and facts. Write a horror story with nonfiction skills, which are fact-based and author-centric, and at some point you will inform the reader that the protagonist feels horror, and explain why. And in response the reader will say, “Uh-huh,” and shrug.

But fiction has a goal of moving you emotionally, and making you feel as if you’re living the story, as-the-protagonist, and in real-time. It’s character-centric and emotion-based. Write a horror story using that skill set and you terrorize the reader, and make them afraid to turn out the lights when it’s time for sleep. And THAT’S what we read fiction for. Fiction's methodology is to make the scene so real to the reader that if somene throws a rock at the protagonist the reader will duck. You've read books like that. Don't you want to involve the reader to the point where they shout advice to your protagonist? Wouldn't you rather your reader frown and say, "Oh my God...what do we do now?" than quietly absorb a stream of, "This happened...then that happened...he said...then she said...and after that..." Zzzzzz.

It’s not a matter of skill or talent. The problem causing you trouble is one faced by all hopeful writers because we leave our school days exactly as qualified to write fiction as to remove an appendix. Luckily for our friends we recognize that medicine requires more training than high school health classes. So why don’t we know that the same applies to fiction? Because, universally, we forget that professions are learned IN ADDITION to the general skill set we call, “The Three R’s.” And Fiction-writing, of course is a profession, one they offer four-year majors at the universities. And you have to figure that at least some of what’s taught there is necessary. And something else we miss is that we no more learn to write fiction by reading it than we learn to cook by eating.

Want some good news? Pretty near 90% of hopeful writers never learn what I just told you. That's why publishers view fully 97% of what’s submitted as “amateur” and 75% as unreadable (their terms not mine). It’s also why the rejection rate is 99.9%

So in this story, doing exactly what you’ve been taught to do, you, the narrator is alone on stage, talking to the reader, primarily in overview, chronicling the events of the story as a transcription of you telling it to an audience. It works for you, of course, but look at why: You know the characters and their backstory, their immediate and long-term goals, the situation, the scene and the ambiance, and, your intent for how the reader is to take the words. In other words, you cheat, big time. 🙄

For you, the words act as pointers to images, ideas, and much more, all stored in your mind. But the reader? For them, the words act as pointers to images, ideas, and much more, all stored in *YOUR* mind. and since you're not there to ask when it's read...

As you read, you hear the narrator’s voice—your voice—all filled with the emotion. It whispers and shouts, changes pitch and tempo as needed to make the story live.

As you read, you know the meaning and purpose of every word. The reader? They have only what emotion is suggested by punctuation, and what meaning is suggested by THEIR background, not yours. And, they have no access to your intent. Have your computer speak the story aloud to hear how different what the reader gets is from what you intend (A great editing trick, BTW).

And how about your visual performance? You act out changes in expression, expressive gestures, and body-language as you read. The reader can’t see that, or know what you expect from them.

So in the end, you’re right. Your stories aren’t the best. But that’s NOT because of fault in you. For all we know you’re oozing talent from every pore. But untrained talent is only potential. And because you can’t use the tool you don’t know exist, or fix the problem you don’t see as one, when the story you read back doesn’t seem as exciting as when you wrote it, you mistakenly put that down to your not being a good writer, when the problem is that you're not a trained writer. And not only is that fixable, if you are meant to write you’ll find the learning fun—like going backstage in a professional theater for the first time. You’ll also spend a lot of time saying, “But…but that’s so damn obvious. Why didn’t I see it for myself?” And if it’s not fun? Well, you’ve learned something important. So it’s win/win. Right?

More good news: You don’t have to go to college for a degree in commercial fiction to write it. The library’s fiction-writing section has lots of books by successful writers, publishers and teachers (but NOT the school’s library). And, it’s free. Devour a few to get more than one viewpoint.

For an overview of how much is different from the kind of writing you do in school, check out the articles in my writing blog. They’re meant for the hopeful writer—not as a teaching tool, but for orientation, so to speak. There are a few short stories there that will show you the things I talk about, in action.

In the end, though, I suggest you pick one of two books that focus on the nuts and bolts of fiction-writing techniques. The easier of the two is Debra Dixon’s, GMC: Goal Motivation & Conflict. It’s like sitting with Deb while she talks about writing.

A second, though harder book (though the best I've found0, is Dwight Swain’s, Techniques of the Selling Writer. It’s the book that got me my first sale. It’s an older book, one that talks about your typewriter, and it’s not as well organized as it might be. But Swain wastes not a word on writing style. Instead he focuses on how to write scenes that will sing to the reader, and how to organize them into a constantly rising action that will have the reader cheering at the climax.

You can try a kind of “Swain lite” by downloading the audio file boil-down of his all-day workshops on writing, and on character-building. They’re about $6 and worth that for his comments on editors, writers, and such things as murder with a doorknob.

An alternative to Swain’s book, one more likely to be in the local library system, is any book on writing technique by Jack Bickham, who taught with Swain at Oklahoma University.

So…was this something you were hoping to see? Of course not. But it is something you needed to know. And since you've demonstrated both the interest and perseverance that a writer needs, and your wordsmithing skills seem up to the task, I thought you'd want to know.

Writing isn’t a destination, remember. It’s a lifelong journey, in which we’re slowly but surely made to be confused on a higher and higher level. So have at it. And while you do, hang in there, and keep on writing.

Jay Greenstein
https://jaygreenstein.wordpress.com/category/the-craft-of-writing/the-grumpy-old-writing-coach/

[Knight731]

I formally request that if you choose to comment/review my work that you do so in an original manner. This is almost exactly like the last review you left for me and I request that it come to an end and from now on you post original comments. Thank you.

[JayG]

• This is almost exactly like the last review you left for me

First, I do a lot of critiques, and neither your name or the writing was memorable enough to make an impression.

Of more importance, given that you've done nothing at all to change from the high school English class approach to writing, you're making all the same beginner's mistakes. And since the solution is unchanged the advice is to point out the same problems. Is that my fault or yours?

You make the common mistake of thinking that "Story" is what matters, and hope that while the writing is unexciting, people will say: "... but it's a great story idea." That's because you're still thinking in terms of facts and information. But a skilled fiction-writer can make you weep with a tale of taking out the garbage. The amateur, given the finest plot ever conceived will be rejected before the end of page one. And if they don't read more, you wasted the time to write the rest.

Lecture the reader for a line and they close the cover. You provide two paragraphs of unnecessary preamble. You follow that with:

• It was late at night, around 11:30 P.M.. Zack had just gotten done taking the soul of yet another lonely woman in the town.

What possible reason is there to open the story be talking about what happened before the story begins? Would the story change had he stopped for coffee before the piece opened? No. So it's bullshit.

Start every story with story, not history.

Bore a reader for a line and they leave, which you do with:

• The feeling of his phone vibrating in his pocket caused him to take it out to see who it was.

In total, you use 148 words, or more than half a page on a phone call he doesn't answer. Who in the hell cares about a call he doesn't take?

Then you waste more time on him walking to the bridge. In total, and not counting the unnecessary preamble, you use 219 words to get him to the bridge—not a word of it necessary.

You follow that with:

• Zack stopped once he got to the bridge separating the town he was in and the town that was next. But, he didn’t stop because he wanted to, he stopped because of what he saw.

Who in the hell cares that there's a different town across the bridge? It's irrelevant, and a waste of words, because it serves only to slow the narrative and bore the reader. Then, instead of telling the reader why he stops you tell them that it wasn't because he wanted to? That's silly. Anytime someone stops there's a reason. Tell the reader he stops and they want to know what, not why he might have, THEN why he did.

Here's the bottom line: You might say a given story wasn't all that good, but the writing was. But no one will ever say that the writing wasn't good but the story was because they won't read past the first point where they decide that the writing isn't good. And as someone who not only has been published more than a few times, and as someone who owned a manuscript critiquing service, I'm not giving personal opinion.

Your choice: Invest a bit of time to learn the basic nuts-and-bolts issues of writing fiction, or nothing will change. I looked. You have thirty posts and I'm the only one who has commented. On the other hand, while I make no claim of being a great writer, I always get responses. So just maybe, what I say might be worth thinking about.

Seems a shame that you like writing enough to spend so much time doing it, and so little time learning how.

[Knight731]

Okay. You have said a lot of things to consider. But the only thing I believe is true is when you said was that I'm not the best.

I know km not the best but I'm okay with that, I know that I have a lot to learn and I'm okay with that. I'm okay with people not commenting on my short stories, or my novels. Do I like that no one is commenting? No. Do I still appreciate every view and every second people spend reading my hard work? Of course.

I am a self taught writer. None of my middle or high school classes have taught me how to write anything less than an argumentative essay only for it to be tossed in the trash later. I think I'm doing very well for an 11th grader who hasn't taken a single creative writing class.

I know I have made many mistakes in my writing, even much so in the first few chapters of my novel, but that won't stop me from writing. Sure, I might make the same mistakes but at the end of the day I'm not looking at the mistakes or the negativity. I'm looking at the positive effects my writing gives me.

Instead of packing everything up because I know I'll never make it big, I keep writing and I push through all the temptations of quitting because people actually like what I write. It makes me so happy everyday to see that so many people enjoy my writing dispite my mistakes, that when I dont post for weeks people message me and ask me when the next chapter is going to come out.

And to be Frank, I dont care how many times you have been published, your "critiques" are turning more and more into seemingly petty insults. I'm sorry that I made you SO angry at the request for you to write something original in my comment section that you felt the need to insult how I work and what I write, sprinkling in just enough to call it a critique.

[JayG]

• I know that I have a lot to learn and I'm okay with that.

Why are you okay with that, and not saying, "I'm working on that?" Why aren't you talking about the books you've looked at since my first critique?

Instead of fixing the problems you're hardening bad habits into concrete by using them.

• I'm okay with people not commenting on my short stories, or my novels

No you're not. You wouldn't have posted them had you not hoped to please the reader. You and I know that. Yet you've taken no steps toward improving. And writing more fiction won't change anything. As Mark Twain observed, long ago: “It ain’t what you don’t know that gets you into trouble. It’s what you know for sure that just ain’t so.” You can't fix the problem you don't recognize as being one.

Remember, you, and everyone you know has been choosing stories that have been professionally written, and prepared since you learned to read. And in school you've learned none of the techniques those people used in creating the writing you enjoy. Yet you expect to see the result of those skills in use in the fiction you read—just as people expect to see it in play in what you write.

Think about this: If we learned to write fiction in high school, then the majority of new writers would be new grads. But can you name one who did that in the past ten years? Since the days when Frankenstein was published, there have been about 23. So just maybe, a bit of professional knowledge might help.

• I am a self taught writer.

No, you're not. You were taught to write by a series of teachers. And the only techniques you know are what THEY gave you. You talk as if there's something to be admired about trying to reinvent the wheel, while the skills you need are yours for the taking in the local library.

• I think I'm doing very well for an 11th grader who hasn't taken a single creative writing class.

Seriously? If you were doing well I would not be the only one commenting, You're trying to write fiction with nonfiction skills. Try to define "doing well" without including the word competent. And I don't mean that as an insult. I'm incompetent at an infinite number of things. But I only succeeded as a logic designer after I learned the necessary skills. And I wrote six unsold novels before I learned what I've told you and turned to study of the tricks of the profession.

It matters not at all how well you, or even I think you're doing. The one who decides if you're doing well are the people who think it's so good they'll pay to read it.

And forget "creative writing" courses. They teach you to write "creatively," whatever that is. Can you point to anyone who took one and then sold their work? No. A single semester in which they cover every kind of writing gives only a taste of what there is to learn, not professional skills.

Bottom line, with no bullshit: You aren't writing well. You're making all the expected new writer mistakes because you lack all professional knowledge. Why you are isn't your fault, because no one told you that your writing reflexes, honed over eleven years, are 100% nonfiction skills.

Your decision to not change that situation, though, is 100% yours. Fiction-Writing is a profession, and ALL professions are learned IN ADDITION to the general skills you're being taught that will make you useful to a future employer.

• Instead of packing everything up because I know I'll never make it big, I keep writing and I push through all the temptations of quitting because people actually like what I write.

No one said you can't be a success, only that unless you get your a*s in gear and learn what it is you're trying to do you'll not make it. But that's true of any profession.

You'd not try to design a computer without more than what you get in high school. Nor would you try to fly a sailplane, or become a doctor by treating your friends via guesswork. Why would you assume that simply by writing with the report-writing skills you now own they will magically morph into the techniques that selling writers use?

• It makes me so happy everyday to see that so many people enjoy my writing dispite my mistakes

So many people? I suppose you mean friends and relatives. But they don't count.

Ben Bova, the sci-fi writer, once gave my son some super advice: "Forget friends and relatives. Give your work to someone who doesn't like you. If you can make them say it's good, maybe you have something."

The problem is that you want to BE a writer without the annoyance of having to become one. Who doesn't? But the difference between a dream and a plan is a timetable. So at the moment you're dreaming, and are taking advice that precludes that dream as a personal insult.

Given that, I'll just wish you luck with your writing and bow out.

[Knight731]

Thank you for the advice. I look forward to knowing I won't be seeing anymore copy and paste comments from you on my writing. If you do not like it, please do not comment. Thank you.