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I will give you feedback today but not right now. I am leaving for school right now.
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Barbara shoved the mat away. Dust sprang up from the wooden floorboards and made its way to Lara’s nose. She sneezed, followed by a small one from Theodore.
Underneath and..."
This story is probably going to be your best yet. I truly enjoyed it. You chose really great words like forlornly. You were able to create imagery and I found that a big key to creating a fantastic story. I absolutely cannot wait for the next chapter. My only suggest is maybe to describe the characters appearance a bit but do not go on and on with it.
The Active Walrus (GAB) wrote: "Chapter One-Pitch BlackBarbara shoved the mat away. Dust sprang up from the wooden floorboards and made its way to Lara’s nose. She sneezed, followed by a small one from Theodore.
Underneath and..."
I agree with everything Nov13670 said. It is so vivid, and I just got to see The Monuments Men yesterday (it's in a WWII setting), so everything is coming alive for me. It reads like a movie plays. I can see everything in my head. Just awesome, keep writing! :D
Oh, and sorry I didn't have a chance to give you feedback before - I was on a camping trip with no Internet access for a few days. :)
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welcome! :)
The Active Walrus (GAB) wrote: "Thanks so much! :D I really want to see the monuments men :) and yeah, I'll try and weave the descriptiveness in somehow :) but thx!!!"You're welcome! And you really should go see The Monuments Men, it was awesome. :D
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Light flickered on the damp, dirt walls of the cellar, fighting back the shadows. Lara stared forlornly at the dancing flames on the candles. Tears pricked her eyes. Her skin felt hot. She needed more air.
She stood and stretched and started to climb the rusty ladder to the trapdoor, which was open just a crack for air, although it didn’t do very much; the door was just at the edge of the carpet that covered it.
Lara pushed open the trapdoor a little bit more, and drew deep breaths.
“Lara!” Mama snapped in a whisper. “Close it now! You could be seen. Hurry!”
Lara sighed. “I just need some air. You’ve done this before, remember?”
“Yes, but that was before my common sense got the better of me and told me to keep you three safe! Now close it!”
Lara groaned quietly and closed it, leaving a gap again with a small scrap of wood. She dropped down from the ladder, sending dust flying into the air. Mama coughed.
“Would you be quiet!” she whispered, waving her hand back and forth in front of her face.
Lara frowned, slumped down in a corner and drew her knees up to her chest. She blinked away tears, and tried to block out the hushed conversation between Mama and Elias.
“She’s only fourteen. Cut her some slack, Mama,” Elias whispered.
“She needs to understand that if she opens that door we could be discovered,” Mama replied.
“She only needed a little bit of air.”
“We have enough air with that crack, Elias. Do not argue with your mother.”
“Mama, I’m sorry, but think about this for a moment. We’ve been cooped up in this miserable dirt room for over a week now. There’s dust in our throats, the air is humid and there’s Nazis marching right by this house. We are all depressed, angry and scared. We must be patient with one another.”
Mama was silent for a while. Unable to admit defeat, all she said was, “Do not talk to your mother that way again, do you hear me?”
Elias sighed. “Yes, Mama.”
Lara turned to watch her older brother walk towards the food basket. His wavy, sooty hair hung down when he bent over to retrieve a piece of stale bread. She swallowed, and mouthed a thank you to Elias’ back.
Lara woke to dust filling her nose. She sneezed, and her eyes fluttered open. For a moment she wondered where she was, but when she saw the crack in the trapdoor she groaned and rolled over. The mattress creaked beneath her. Even though it had been two weeks, she still woke up confused and frightened.
Theodore and Mama slept soundly on their mattress; Mama snoring lightly, and Theodore huddling into her, his black hair tussled. Elias was sitting up on his own dusty mattress, biting into an apple and staring into the darkness.
“Have a nice sleep?” he asked, almost to the shadows than to Lara.
“No,” Lara replied. “This mattress is very uncomfortable. I kept waking up during the night. I wish we never had to do this.”
Elias sighed and paused for a moment, letting his apple hang. Lara swallowed as he searched for the right words. She hoped she hadn’t sounded to selfish. There were many Jews-too many to count-that could be enduring something much worse than living in a cellar.
“Me either,” Elias muttered at last. He took another bite.
Lara closed her eyes and drew a deep breath. Me either. That was all? Couldn’t he comfort her, or at least pat her arm? Tell her it would be alright? Where had the joy, the laughter, the warmth of her brother gotten to? Lara ignored her thoughts and concentrated on the muffled noise above.
Barbara was awake, and placing a plate and cutlery on the white table cloth over the dining table. Her sounds seemed to echo in the empty house.
Lara stood up and stretched. She shook out her legs and walked towards the ladder. Elias’ eyes followed her, but he didn’t say anything as Lara climbed the ladder and peered out the crack. All she could see were floorboards and Barbara’s feet as she moved about preparing her breakfast. The curtains above the sink were tied back, and sunlight poured into the kitchen. Lara drew a deep breath of fresh air, and a sweet aroma made her stomach grumble. She longed for whatever food Barbara was cooking-it was bound to be better than the food in the basket.
Lara climbed back down and sifted through the basket of food. It had been replaced a week ago, and was almost empty. She took out some bread and cheese and took a bite of them together. After she finished, the hole in her stomach was hardly full. It growled a second time, hungry for more. Lara ignored it and drank a cup of water. They needed to save the food for as long as possible.
A small hand reached into the basket. It was Theodore. Lara hadn’t noticed him waking up. Theodore’s hand pulled out with a bread roll clenched inside.
“I saw you look out,” he mumbled. Theodore slumped on the ground and nibbled on his breakfast. “Mama won’t be happy.”
“Not if she doesn’t find out,” Lara replied as she tucked in the cloth that covered the food. “Besides, it was only a peek. I just wanted some air.”
Theodore was silent for a moment. Then he said, almost too quiet to hear, “I…I had a bad dream last night.”
Lara sighed sympathetically. “Come here,” she said, gesturing to her lap. Theodore crawled over and snuggled into her. “Now, tell me what happened.”
Theodore swallowed a bite of bread and set it in his own lap. “I-I was in this cellar in the dark with the trapdoor closed,” he began. His voice sounded frightened. “Everyone was gone. I cried and cried. I couldn’t see anything. Then the trapdoor opened and three men in brown suits came in. They-they grabbed me and forced me up the ladder. One pointed a big gun at my head.
“They took me out on the street and I saw lots and lots of men in brown suits. They were attacking mamas and papas and children, and shooting them. I was so scared, Lara, I was so scared. I starting crying again and a man hit me really hard with his gun. I started getting angry and I kicked them. They hit me harder and took me to a truck. They locked me inside in the dark. Then I was lying in a field. There were trees behind me and train tracks in front of me. A train came past with more men on the rooves. There were lots and lots of loud bangs and I felt aching and stinging. I screamed and cried. Then I woke up and saw you.”
Lara was speechless. She tasted bitter bile, but swallowed it. Tears pricked her eyes, and she let out a loud sob. Lara hugged Theodore to her chest and cried into his hair. How could such a small child have such violent dreams? What had Theodore done to deserve this? He was only a child-an innocent, harmless, frightened child that should have nothing to do with death.
Lara felt a large lump in her throat that couldn’t be moved. She coughed and choked on her tears. Theodore began to sob as well, and cuddled into his older sister. “Lara,” he croaked. “I don’t want to do this anymore.”
Lara sobbed even harder. She couldn’t bare it. Why did they have to live in this time? Why did this have to happen to them? Why not anyone else? Why, why, why? Lara gripped Theodore’s shirt and hugged him closer. “I’m so sorry, Theo, I’m so terribly sorry.”
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Light flickered on the damp, dirt walls of the cellar, fighting back the shadows. Lara stared forlornly at the dancing flames on the candles. Tears pricked her eyes. Her ..."
I like this chapter. It didn't go in the direction I had in mind but that's okay because this chapter was still very good. The only suggestion I have is to not make the chapter repetitive. Like the opening up the trapdoor thing was repetitive. You still were able to create imagery in this chapter.
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The Active Walrus (GAB) wrote: "Chapter Two-The NightmareLight flickered on the damp, dirt walls of the cellar, fighting back the shadows. Lara stared forlornly at the dancing flames on the candles. Tears pricked her eyes. Her ..."
I agree with Nov13670, but I still enjoyed the chapter immensely!
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It's kind of hard to put my ideas into words but I believe that the direction you are taking it will make an outstanding story.
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Gibble Gobble Gabble wrote: "Chapter Two-The NightmareLight flickered on the damp, dirt walls of the cellar, fighting back the shadows. Lara stared forlornly at the dancing flames on the candles. Tears pricked her eyes. Her ..."
Gibble Gobble Gabble wrote: "Chapter One-Pitch Black-September, 1941
Barbara shoved the mat away. Dust sprang up from the wooden floorboards and made its way to Lara’s nose. She sneezed, followed by a small one from Theodore...."
Both chapters are great!
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The trapdoor creaked open and light poured through the room. Lara groaned and blocked her eyes, squinting. She had lived in the darkness for so long that her eyes burned whenever there was a great light-which there rarely was. But it was a nice change.
A breath of fresh air spread through the cellar, and Lara sucked it in as her eyes became accustomed to the light. Barbara’s shoes clanked down the ladder, and she dropped the last three rungs onto the ground, the basket in hand. She shook herself, sounding exasperated, and set the basket down.
“That Krause boy is such a troublemaker,” Barbara said, wiping her hands on her apron. “He’s always throwing his ball into my yard! Always looking through the windows! He and his friends sometimes even yell disgusting things at me! He has no respect for adults at all. By God, I swear one day I’ll have a talk with his parents. Now, there’s bread and some cheese in there, as well as fruit, fortunately a little meat, and-aren’t you all lucky-a few sweets! It should last you at least a week.”
Theodore and Lara shuffled up the basket and foraged inside for the sweets. Lara couldn’t remember the last time she’d had some. Was it at school? At home? Did her friends give her some? She didn’t know, but now she was able to have some, and she couldn’t wait.
“Theodore. Lara. Come away please,” Mama ordered softly. “We must keep the sweets-make them last. Do not go swiping things from the basket.”
Lara slumped and crawled away with Theodore, disappointed. Even though we can’t have any now, at least we have some, she told herself as she sat herself down on her mattress.
Barbara began to talk quietly to Mama, about something that seemed important. Normally Lara would edge a little closer to eavesdrop, but now she didn’t care. She stared up at the hole in the ceiling, or the hole in the floor, in Barbara’s view. The curtains were drawn so none could see in, and a dirty plate and glass were stacked next to the sink. Is Barbara ever lonely, she thought? The house would be so quiet with no one around. Did she ever marry? Did she have any children? She needs company. Suddenly an idea hit her. Why not stay in the upper storey, and just keep the curtains drawn? No one would notice anyway. It could be so simple. They could sleep in the bed; eat meals in the bedroom-just never come downstairs. Surely…surely they’d be safe…But Lara knew they wouldn’t. They weren’t even safe in the cellar, where there was no chance of noticing. They were never safe when there were Nazis around, when everyone supported Hitler and hated Jews.
Barbara sighed and walked back to the ladder. “Don’t worry, Ingrid, I’ll make sure he doesn’t suspect anything. He’s only a child. Well, goodbye for now, everyone. I’ll see you again in maybe a week. Have fun, if possible.” In a few seconds Barbara was gone; the trapdoor shut; the darkness filling the cellar once more, with only a few candles for light. Lara turned to Mama.
“What was Barbara talking about? About the child? What is suspecting?”
Mama hesitated, and fumbled with her thumbs. “Well…oh, I guess I should tell you,” she said. “There is a young boy next door-Kurt Krause-who bothers Barbara quite a lot. I imagine he’s a mischievous little imp, but we must be weary of him. Barbara suspects he’s wondering if she’s hiding anyone…”
Before anyone could react, Mama went on. “Barbara has no idea why he thinks that. It could be the drawn curtains, the fact that Barbara never goes out to…to Jews passing through or…hangings, it could be our noise, if it can be heard…” Mama rested her head in her hand. “I don’t know, children, I don’t…I can’t…if anyone discovered us, discovered you, I’d…I’d…” Soft tears fell into the dust. Elias drew closer wrapped his arms around his mother.
“Mama, we won’t be discovered. We’ll manage quite fine until this war is over, till the Nazis are defeated. Dry your eyes.”
Mama sniffed and did what Elias told her. “Thank you, my dear. You’ve grown into a fine young man. Any girl would adore you, I know it. If only…if only you could go out to meet some.”
“Mama?” Theodore whispered, hugging his blanket to his chest. “What if the…the Nazis aren’t defeated? What if they keep taking mummies and pappies and children away?”
“Theo, that won’t happen. The Nazis will never win, I can assure you, darling,” Mama said sympathetically, despite what she said before. She rubbed his shoulder with a pitiful frown on her face. Lara gave Theodore a hug as well, hoping Mama was right.
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The trapdoor creaked open and light poured through the room. Lara groaned and blocked her eyes, squinting. She had lived in the darkness for so long that her eyes burned whenev..."
I liked this chapter. It was simple and I can't say that was a bad thing. I would really like you though to bring out and add more to the characters personality. i know they are in a cellular and can only do so much but the chapters will eventually get a bit colorless if you don't add more to it then them just sitting around and talking and waiting for or eating food.
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I'm glad we are on the same page. I do still think the story is fantastic.
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Gibble Gobble Gabble wrote: "Chapter 3-SuspicionThe trapdoor creaked open and light poured through the room. Lara groaned and blocked her eyes, squinting. She had lived in the darkness for so long that her eyes burned whenev..."
Another great chapter. :D I agree with Nov13670, but I'm glad to hear that you're trying to bring our their personalities and that you have more in store for them.
Barbara shoved the mat away. Dust sprang up from the wooden floorboards and made its way to Lara’s nose. She sneezed, followed by a small one from Theodore.
Underneath and the mat was a small trapdoor with a rusted, metal ring on the end. Out of the corner of her eye, Lara saw Mama swallow.
Barbara grunted as she hauled the trapdoor up. Grains of dirt crumbled from around the trapdoor and fell away into pitch black. The only thing visible was a rusted ladder leading down into the hole. Theodore tugged on Mama’s dress.
“Mama, I’m scared,” he whimpered. “I don’t want to go down there.”
Mama sighed. “I don’t either, but we have to. Bad men are taking our people away, so we must hide. I already told you, dear.” She stroked Theodore’s tussled hair.
Lara remembered, yesterday, when she was cleaning cutlery in the kitchen of the new house they had been living in for 3 years since Kristallnacht. The house belonged to Barbara, a widowed, non-Jewish woman and friend of Mama. As Lara was drying the knives, forks and spoons with a tea towel, she heard yelling coming from down the road.
Lara drew the curtains away from the window above the sink, and peered down the street. When she saw them her mouth fell open. A large group of men, women and children, all with yellow stars on their chests, marched down the street. A number of Nazis walked with them, yelling at them, whipping them, hitting them with their guns. A truck trailed behind, probably filled with more Nazis.
Barbara and Mama had joined her by then, and made no move to pull the curtains, entranced by the scene in front of them.
Crowds had gathered on the pathways, a few shocked, most jeering, yelling, and spitting at the miserable group of Jews. It took a few seconds for Mama to come back to reality.
“Lara, quick,” she had said hurriedly. “We must hide, or the Nazis will know, and take us with them. No, Barbara, leave the curtains. It would look too suspicious. Theodore, Elias, where are you both? We need to hide.”
The family of four huddled in a room upstairs. No sound came from them. Lara snuck a peek out the window through a gap in the curtains. She watched as the Jews marched forward, some standing tall, others sorrowful and hunched over. An elderly man suddenly tripped and fell. Without warning, a Nazi pushed through the crowd and yelled at the man to stand. When he didn’t, the Nazi held up his gun and there was a loud bang. Lara looked away. She didn’t want to see what happened next.
The family had crouched there on floor for what seemed like hours, until Barbara had entered the room and told them it was safe.
Now that Lara had relived that horrifying moment, she suddenly wanted to hide down there in the dark, rather than march through the street with Nazis shooting the people around you, going who knew where.
Lara took the torch from Barbara and began to climb down the ladder. It creaked under her weight, but held her. Suddenly the ladder ended and Lara stumbled onto a dirt floor. Her eyes saw black, and nothing else. She switched on the flashlight, and light sprayed around the room. The walls, floor and ceiling were made of damp, packed dirt. Four boards had been placed down and covered with blankets, a pillow on each. What looked like a basket of food sat next to a jug of water and a few candles. Lara swallowed. She knew this secret, underground cellar would be bad, but she didn’t think it would be this bad.
As Elias’ heavy footsteps descended down the ladder, Barbara’s voice echoed in the cellar: “I know it’s not very welcoming, but I couldn’t do much in a night. I’ll give you more food if I can after you’ve finished that basket.”
“Mama, do we have to live there?” Theodore whined.
Mama let out a shaky sigh. Lara could tell she didn’t want to live in the cellar either. “I’m sorry, Theo, dear. We have to. Just until…the war ends.” Mama hesitated. “It’s for our safety-your safety.”
Theodore groaned and slouched. “Fine. Will the war end soon? Tomorrow?”
Barbara laughed. “No, dear, not tomorrow, but soon. Well, Ingrid,” she said to Mama. “I guess you’ll be living down there with the rats, for while.”
“Please don’t mention rats, Barbara. They’re disgusting,” Mama replied, but she was smiling. “See you shortly. You’ve done so much for us-you’re even risking your own safety. We’re very grateful.” Mama hugged her friend and climbed down the ladder, ignoring the help from Elias. She beckoned to Theodore, and guided his feet down the rungs.
“Bye, Barbara,” little Theo said.
Barbara waved in return, smiling. Then, with a sigh, she lifted the trapdoor up from the floorboards. Lara watched forlornly as the last shafts of light disappeared and the family was left in utter darkness.