Hi! Ameyani here! You can call me Ame. This thread is going to be dedicated to all my short stories. I think that I'm going to try to post a short story atleast one a week. My goal though is every day.

For critquing my works, please mention the title of the story you are giving feedback on. This will help me see which one you are talking about. ^^;

Today though. I'm going to post two stories as of right now.

He stood there while Father Adrian went on with the eulogy. He looked down at the ash casket with white lilies on the top. How strangely beautiful he thought they were as he let his eyes scanned around him. To his left was his mother, her face stoic as ever but the hint of her heart glistened in her eyes. Who would would have ever though that an old prune like her actually loved. Granted she always looked her best. He felt bad for the mean things he's said to her the last time he saw her, not knowing she would loose a son soon after. She even wore the necklace he gave her.

On the other side of this mother was his wife. Even as tears fell from her reddened eyes she still looked as radiant as ever. The dark colour of her dress and hair made her fair skin glow. How much she and her late husband will miss one another. Again his heart ached. He suddenly remembered the day they met. It was at one of those charit banquets. He smiled at the memory of him knocking into her and spilling his wine on her dress. He saw a small twitch on her soft lips. she must be remembering the same thing.

He then turned to his right where his younger brother stood in an uncharacteristic suit. They were always close. It was strange to see the nineteen year old wear his long hair back in a ponytail. How he would miss him as well. The secrets and 'adventures' they shared at childhood. Once he remembered taking the blame for breaking Nana's favourite vase as his guilty brother watched from around the corner. And he gladly took that blame, too.

He soon looked ahead of him at another man in a suit, behind Father Adrian. This was a man he had never met, but knew exactly who he was. Just as the Father said his last words of the eulogy, he walked up past the casket, past Father Adrian, and straight of to the not-so-stranger.

"It is time," the man said.

Warren looked back over his shoulder at the crowd that had come to his funeral. He said his goodbyes and his wife looked up at his direction as if she heard him. He let out a soft smile before turning back to the stranger and walks beside him into a light that they can only see.

Okay....that title didn't show. The story above is called "White Lilies." And now for the next story.

---

"Home is Where the Heart Is"

Home is where the heart is. Atleast that was what he always told Tesh. But sitting in his cell for three millinia makes Tesh believe hhe have no home anymore. Because even if what he said was true, no heart means no home. And no heart is what Tesh has. He looks up at the small barred window high on the cell wall as the moonlight shines on the decreped body. His dry chapped skin clings to his bones, dull from malnutrition and dark from dirt and grime, covered by thin rags. Tesh's ratted colourless hair hung in his dull lavender eyes.

He didn't even move when the door to his cell swung open and two gaurds came in and walked on either side of Tesh. They picked him up, dragging his scarred and scabbed legs on the concrete, as they took him down the hall way out of the prison wing. Tesh took no notice at the pain, nor the blinding light and fridgid cold as the guards took him outside and tossed in on the snow.

Tesh pulls himself on his hands and knees without a thought. He knew what was to come. Not long did a man walk out, dressed in a uniform walk out, carrying a brief case. "I'm going to give you one last chance before the I get serious. Where is he?"

Tesh looks right up at the man. Tesh was worn down, but ready to die for the man he his protecting. The man who believe home his where the heart is.

Tesh spits in the other's face. That man growls and back hands the weak boy. The force mad the boy fly a couple feet and down on the snow. The man grabs Tesh's arm and wreches it back, making Tesh gasp, but he does not scream. He will not let the man make him scream, no matter what.

You mentioned critiques, so I shall!

White Lilies:

Originally Posted by Amelyani

…as he let his eyes scanned around him.

‘scan’ instead of ‘scanned’. A little tense error. I also think ‘the room’ or ‘the others’ or something to that effect might work better than ‘around him’. Only because ‘around him’ makes it seem a little like he’s not really looking through his own eyes.
Now, if that’s the case, since he’s a spirit and all, then I’d make more of a point of that throughout the piece.

Originally Posted by Amelyani

To his left was his mother, her face stoic as ever but the hint of her heart glistened in her eyes.

I’d put a comma after ‘ever’, to set apart ‘her face stoic as ever’.
“…was his mother, her face stoic as ever, but the…”

Originally Posted by Amelyani

Who would would…

One too many ‘would’s. =]

Originally Posted by Amelyani

Granted she always looked her best.

I’d add a comma after ‘Granted’.
“Granted, she always…”

Originally Posted by Amelyani

He felt bad for the mean things he's said to her…

I think ‘he’d’ said would fit better with the tense. Around this point of the story I kind of got confused with whether this was past or present tense. I’m going to be editing with the idea that it’s past, since that’s how you started.

Originally Posted by Amelyani

It was at one of those charit banquets.

‘charity’

Originally Posted by Amelyani

she must be remembering the same thing.

‘she’ should be capitalized.

Originally Posted by Amelyani

…and straight of to the not-so-stranger.

‘off’?

Originally Posted by Amelyani

…and walks beside him into a light that they can only see.

There’s a tense shift again. I think ‘walks’ should be ‘walked’.
--
I like the idea of watching his own funeral. I think over all it was well-written, but he seems kind of distant from everything. While that has a interesting effect, you do mention how much he’ll miss certain people and don’t really show us how he feels about them. (With the exception of the soft smile he gives his wife.) I think that could be played on a bit more, but otherwise it was quite good!
--

"Home is Where the Heart Is"

Originally Posted by Amelyani

Atleast that was what he always told Tesh.

‘At least’ should be two words.

Originally Posted by Amelyani

But sitting in his cell for three millinia makes Tesh believe hhe have no home anymore.

‘millennia’ and ‘he’.
Also, ‘have’ should be ‘has’.

Originally Posted by Amelyani

…the decreped body.

‘decrepit’

Originally Posted by Amelyani

… and two gaurds…

‘guards’

Originally Posted by Amelyani

…nor the blinding light and fridgid cold…

‘frigid’

Originally Posted by Amelyani

Not long did a man walk out, dressed in a uniform walk out…

‘Not long after’ or ‘later’, I think you meant. You also have ‘walk out’ twice. I knock out the first one and keep the second.

Originally Posted by Amelyani

…before the I get serious.

You must have either forgotten a word or changed the sentence as you wrote it. I’m not entirely sure what this means.

Originally Posted by Amelyani

…die for the man he his protecting.

‘the man he is’

Originally Posted by Amelyani

The man who believe home his where the heart is.

‘believes’

Originally Posted by Amelyani

Tesh spits in the other's face. That man growls and back hands the weak boy.

This is another tense issue. I think it should be ‘spat’.

Originally Posted by Amelyani

The force mad the boy fly…

‘made’

Originally Posted by Amelyani

The man grabs Tesh's arm and wreches it back…

‘wrenches’
--
I was actually much more interested in this story. I’d like to know what happens and what had happened. The biggest issue was some of the spelling (do you have a spell-checker on your computer? I have a friend who doesn’t. It’s a bummer.) and the fact that, in both pieces, you tend to bounce back and forth between present tense and past tense. It makes it difficult, as far as grammar goes, to read. And it hurts the flow of the story.

I did like it though. So I hope you continue!

Thanks for the feedback, Nolori. It made me realize that I grabbed from the first drafts and not my recent drafts. I will be editing them when I find the recent drafts, for now here are some more little stories I wrote.

---

"Driving Finger"


Fuh-dah-AHHH!! Mmm! No I'm NOT fine!

Ah, hell. Not again. First the face, then the knee, and now...I smash my finger in the drawer for the second time today! It's like a black cat is constantly crossing my path. Why am I the object of Murphy's affections? Let him pick on some other poor sap.

Aww, Man. I think my finger is broken. No, I can still move it. Barely. Ow! Ice. I need ice. Please get me ice. Ah! Thank you! You are a doll.

Eww! Look how big it is. My finger looks like a balloon. A gigantic purple balloon! I should probably splint it. My poor finger-ow! Careful! Please! Thank you. Haha, no I wasn't trying to flip you off.

It's definately broken.

How's my face? A wall came right out and attacked me. Yes, it did! I fought back. Lost. And see my knee? Wrestling with a chair. It started it! Yea and now the drawer is trying to eat me.

Hospital? Yea, I'm sure I should go. Oh thank you, driving might be difficult for me, yes. Atleast I don't want to be showing fellow drivers my "driving finger" unintentionally.

---

"I'll Miss You Most of All Scarecrow."


Calisto brushed back her blond hair as she continued to pack.

"What are you doing?"

Calisto stopped to look up at her sister, Cleo, standing in the door frame. "What does it look like I am doing?" The blond continues on packing.

"He won't let you leave," Cleo states.

"I'm nineteen years old. Besides, I don't need 'daddy's' blessing to leave." Calisto stuffs her shirts in the suitcase.

"Where will you go?" Cleo walked up too her sister, her hands on her hips.

"To America."

"And who do you know that is in America? Besides our nonexistent cousin, Xander." Cleo stares at her sister.

"Zenas. He lives in America."

"The central graviton manipulator? The guy whose brother we attempted to kidnap? That Zenas?" Cleo looked at Calisto like she was insane. "Do you really think he's going to trust you?"

"Actually, that's Zen, the brother. And yes. I do think he will because I was the one who let them escape."

"Sister?! How could you do such a thing? You of all people know he is vital to father's plans." Cleo places her hand on her sister's shoulder, forcing her sister to look at her.

"Father is a monster. A controlling, manipulative and sick bastard. He's not even our real father! He was just the one who brought us back from the grave." Calisto's eyes began to well up. "He cut him open. He cut Zen, Cleo. Why? So he can insert that damn virus that infects the three of us."

"He does that to help Cybil. You know that." Cleo moves to hug her sister, but is pushed away.

"That is what he wants you to think. 'Doing all this to save the world' my ass. I know what is in his cold black heart. Nothing. All he wants is power. To rule over all. To be a god!"

"Sister." Cleo stood back to give Calisto room.

"Look what he did to Cybil. To you. To me! We were happy before we died. Now all you care about are those stupid books. And there's Cybil's obsession with death....blood. She's a sociopath now!"

"You cannot possibly remember what our life was like before our deaths." Cleo attempted to make her sister see reason. "None of us do."

"I do. Cybil was so gentle and loving. Compassionate. You....you wanted to be a doctor, despite it was a man's job. You thought you could do more good as a doctor than a nurse. What happened, dear sister?"

"We were never like that....and even if we were, we are not those girls anymore. We got a chance to start a new life thanks to Father. You should be grateful for that."

"Grateful?" She pulls away from her sister to close her suitcase. "For what? Making my new life a living hell? I lost my virginity two months after he resurrected us. That was nearly seven years ago. I haven't been able to even STOP thinking about sex ever since. Not until Zen."

"You love him...." Cleo stares at her sister wide eyed.

"What?" Calisto turns to her sister as she gathered her passport and some cash she had stashed away.

"You love that boy. Zenas." Cleo crosses her arms.

"I love both of them. I care about both of them. It's my nature." Calisto walks to her sister.

"I mean, you are IN love with him."

"Zenas...no....not my type. Zen...I...I guess I am in love with him....otherwise I wouldn't have risked everything to let him go four months ago, nor to leave now and find him. To help him find Xander," she shoulders her bag.

"To remove the virus."

Calisto nods.

Cleo sighs. "Fine. I know there is no way I can stop you. I will turn a blind eye. Just...be careful. I do not want to lose my little sister."

"Thank you, Cleo." Calisto walks up to her sister and hugs her, kissing her cheek before grabbing her bags and heading out the door, but not before one last word. "I'll miss you most of all, Scarecrow."

Cleo laughed. "Shut up and go."

And last, but certainly not least:

"Sweet Melody"


My mother used to say that music was alive in us all. I never understood the full meaning of those words until I met her. It was February 24th, my 16th birthday. I stood there on the eastern beach at morning, only thirty minutes from dawn. I let the foamy waves and grainy sand sink my feet in, the bottoms of my khaki colored cargos wet with sea water. With my hands draped at my sides I stared out at the purple and gold horizon. The chilly wind whipped through my hair and white long sleeve shirt as the news of my mother finally sunk in.

I knew that day would come. The day that cancer would finally take the only person in my life that mattered. My mother. Nobody else cared about me like my mother. Nobody was interested in music like she and I was. Nobody saw the impact of Chopin’s Raindrops or Mozart's Requiem had on a person’s soul. But after losing my mother, I had no one to share that wondrous experience with. Thus no one understood my love for the classics. No one would notice if I lost myself to the sea. So why would anyone care if I had let the waves take me? I started to take a step forward.

“Out for a swim?” I tore my eyes from in front of me to gaze at the right. There she was. Soft blond hair tumbled down her small and dainty shoulders. She wore a cobalt long sleeved dress that looked as if it was a sun dress, adapted for the harsh cold weather of February. She looked up at me, smiling, her eyes the color of the sky during a storm. I could loose myself in those eyes. But what really caught me was her voice. A soft and sweet mezzo soprano.

I turned away, looking out at the sky. Why did someone have to talk to me at that moment? I then turned back. “Er...” was all I could muster up to say.
She giggled. “Really now? I’d expect it’s cold out there. Are you a polar bear?” She looked half serious.

“No. I hate the cold.” That was my only answer.

“Really now?” She giggled again. To any normal being, one would think that those giggles were annoying and caused her to seem younger than she was, but to me, I could hear a sweet melody in her laughter. “What’s your name?” she asked me.

“Jonathan.” I managed.

“Jonathan? I like that name. It’s sounds strong. My name is Melody.”

There is that sweet smile again. I could feel heat rise on my cheeks. “Jonathan is too plain and boring. Too many other boy’s have that name. Melody is a much nicer name than Jonathan.”

“You think so? I always was teased by my fellow schoolmates. They would always tell me to be a song.” I see a soft flush on her cheeks as her eyes turn down and away from me.

“‘To be a song? Don’t you mean ‘to play’ or ‘to sing a song?’”

“No. I am a Melody.” She mumbles.

“Oh...I see now.” The thought makes me laugh. She looked up at me, pouting. “Wait! I didn’t mean to hurt you.” I walked toward her, my hand reaching out for her. It was a movement I had no control over.

“You laughed at me.”

I stopped, staring at her. “I wasn’t laughing at you. I was laughing at myself. I should have caught the meaning of your schoolmates’ teasing sooner.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.” She looked up at me with those dark eyes.

“Don’t be.” I smiled. “Truth be told. I never thought I’d be able to laugh like that again.” I don’t know why I blurted that out, but it seemed like I knew this girl for a long time, not just for just a few minutes. It seemed...right.

“Why not?” She looked over at the sea. “What were you doing here?”

I could not make myself answer her. I turned away from her. I stood there for a long time. For a moment there, Melody made me forget the way I felt only moments ago. “I...”

“You don’t have to tell me, but something must be bothering you to make you so sad.” I could feel her coming closer to me. “Did you lose someone? You don’t have to tell me, but it does help to talk about it.” I see her turn to look out at the horizon, which by now, the sun was already up most of the way. “I lost someone dear to me. About a year ago my grandmother passed away. She was so wonderful. She sang. I once heard her when I was little and I knew I wanted to sing just like her.” Tears start to fill her eyes. “It hurt to talk about it. It hurt to just even breath and be alive. But I told myself I would live one day at a time. And I did. It still hurts, but it also feels nice to remember the good times I had with my grandmother.”

“My mother sang. Her voice was beautiful. Like an angel.” Maybe she was right. Maybe I should talk about it. “She taught me everything there is to music. Phrasing, chord progressions. When to be dainty and when to bellow out. Even when to just let it come out naturally.” I paused, feeling a lump in my throat. “I have no one now.”

“I’m sure that is not true. What about your father?” I felt her small hand on my shoulder.

“I never knew him.”

“Well, even if you have no other family members, or even if you have no friends, you have me, if you want. I’ll be your friend.”

I turned to Melody to see her looking right at me. “That is a bit abrupt.” But I couldn’t help smiling. “But, alright.”

She giggled again, stepping towards me and then wrapping her arms around my waist. The contact gave me butterflies. “So do you sing, too?”

“No. I play the piano.”