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Intro to my new story....
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However, I find it difficult to follow - as if I'm seeing things in a blur. Is the narrator waking up in a room they think is their own but then discovers upon further waking that it's not?
An example of the sort of confusing I'm experiencing: First you describe the room as a "dark shades ugly green" and then later you call it a "plain white room" - but I don't see the narrator move from one room to another, so what is it the author actually wants me to see in this picture?
I also find the short-sentence style difficult to get into. I would mix things up a bit, a short sentence, then a longer/more complex sentence or two and then a short sentence again. The short sentences feel choppy and jar me out of the story so that I cannot enjoy it.
Hope that helps. I don't mean to be nit-picky, but you asked for feedback...


Just my $0.02.
Green. A dark shades ugly green. The kind of dark green that isn't even in nature. That green; On the walls. My bedroom, exact. The teacup setups and the two shelves above my rectangle windows. The plates on the walls, hung at a perfect angle. My desk, sitting right by the ajar entry door. My bed. The same way it was left when i fell asleep. Sitting up, I hear the same echo of the humidifier... But it sounds somewhat destorted... I look over at my small bedside table for the time. But there is no click radio.... No clock radio... My steps are waved a bit as I get up. My hand touches the blind shades and lifts a single one up. White. Not the nature if my front door. White. Just a plain white room. I rub my forehead as I allow myself to my door. It doesn't budge. I squeezed myself through the crack, only to feel a wall stoping me. A clear wall. I pound it hard but it's useless. I step out, catching my dizzy fall. I go to my closet door about a foot away from my bed. It's just there with no purpose. No movement of it at all. The cold tile touched my feet as I entered my bathroom. The other escape door that connects my sister's room to mine, is the same relation to my closer door. I step back into my sink area, grabbing my delicacies box. It isn't glass like it should be. It's plastic. I chick it at the wall angrily but it does nothing but fall to the ground without a noise... Without budging its position. I turn to my glassine to see my reflection. But what I see is not me. There is nothing but the wall behind me.
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