Rainsons - Comments

I could picture this whole thing out in my mind. I love how the whole story was somewhat desolate, but that makes it almost magical, if you know what I mean. It's stories like these, with beauty and desolation, unanswered questions and mental illnesses, that really draw me in and make me want to take a look at my own surroundings. I don't even know what else to say. This has left me speechless.

This was extremely well written.
I couldn't find a single mistake throughout the piece.
It was just...perfect.

As 'Famous Friend.' said, ...when he doesn't have their stories, he doesn't have anything. was full of emotion.

Some of my other favorite lines were:

His limbs contort and he pulls the thin cotton shirt over his head, his chest heaving like it always does on nights like this.
The imagery of that was superb.

He says this might be the one, the night when he can hear them over the howling of the wind and the rhythm of the rain.
This was fairly simple imagery, but it was great. I love how you described the storm. It was even better because it seemed to me like 'they' were getting worse because he would be able to hear them over all the other noise. This sentence was perfect.

It was better to imagine he was playing make-believe like he used to do in school, or that he would get better on his own.
This sentence is when I first realized that whatever the boy was hearing was real. I'm not sure if he hears the dead or is schizophrenic, but that unanswered question makes the story even better.

He didn’t sleep anymore and only drank black coffee in the evenings, too afraid he might miss something.
Here, my thoughts changed a little bit. I then began to think that maybe he was a psychic or something like that. Again, I like the unanswered question that the reader is left with.

Three months later, I took him to the doctors and they told me what was wrong, what they could do to help, but only if he wanted to help himself.

And he didn’t.
Here is where I was finally able to draw the conclusion that he was mentally ill, and I love how with your use of foreshadowing I was able to figure it out without you directly telling me.

He’s started hiding them in his drawers, burying them beneath the garden with his book full of secrets.
I really liked this sentence because it really told the reader how much Noah really didn't want the voices to go because, like you said earlier, ...when he doesn't have their stories, he doesn't have anything.

A concurrent snap of thunder and lightning surrounds us and I can tell you word for word what’s going to happen next. He will sink to his knees, scratching at his skull, and allow a primordial screech to escape his lungs. The rain will soak his bare body until he starts to shake and quiver with an infinite melancholy. He will press his ear to the ground, searching for a murmur that never comes.
This was my favorite paragraph, I loved everything about it. It makes how sick Noah is even clearer, and as always, your imagery and description are superb.

He sits on the countertop, his bones warped over himself. Half-empty eyes move past my silhouette and focus instead on the telephone wires, stripped from the walls, in a pile of muddled tendons.
This was...scary? I don't even really know.

Overall

This has to be one of my favorite oneshots.
It was very, very well written and I loved everything about it.
The way you portrayed Noah's mental illness couldn't have been any better.
Also, your writing flows very well. It also isn't choppy, or boring either.
You use very good vocabulary, and vivid imagery.

I have to say this was very well written.
I love the whole sense of an almost absence communication because in a while the communication between them is by the movement.

...when he doesn’t have their stories, he doesn’t have anything.
That line is full of emotion and I can feel it as the reader and it's something great.

This was great and amazing.
Good job.

yay it's up! ::omgyes:

the layout is totally appropriate for it.
i. love. it. everything about the whole thing.

& thank ya for the ded.