Post by Mali on Jun 23, 2010 8:25:46 GMT -5
This is a short story that we had to write for my Writer's Craft course. I know there are a few areas that I could improve upon, but I was utterly disappointed and completely angry at the mark that I received. I received a 63% on this story because it was science fiction. The errors that I made only took off a small portion of my mark, but the most of it was from my genre.
The project was to create a Milieu based short story.
The project was to create a Milieu based short story.
The street was bustling with people, as it was whenever the movie theatre let out a crowd. This was the entertainment district. There were also other forms of entertainment, different from regular entertainment and more frequently used; ones that the police did nothing to stop.
Jesse was worried for Brendan as he waited outside the studio. Jesse hoped Brendan would show up today, as he had most days. Brendan enjoyed showing Jesse new ideas as well as his company. Brendan didn’t have very many friends to begin with, as he was in fact homeless. However, Jesse didn’t mind that he was homeless; at least he tried not to.
Brendan pushed his way through the crowd, saying sorry every time that he happened to knock into someone a little harder than he should have. Brendan was always polite. Jesse often wondered what he meant when Brendan said he was created in the word of God. Whenever asked upon it, Brendan would state that he was created in the 16th century as a golem. No one believed him, however, what he said; it made sense in a way.
“Sorry I’m late. There was a train and the movie just let out,” Brendan smiled to Jesse and his stomach lurched. Jesse had no idea why the thought of being friends with Brendan made him so nervous. He had tons of friends and was a very social person. He danced on stage for thousands maybe even millions of people. The idea of being friends with Brendan shouldn’t upset him so. However, society had taught him to think this way, but Brendan had taught him to think otherwise.
"No, you’re not late,” Jesse smiled back, before turning around. “Besides, I wasn’t waiting.” Brendan knew that he was obviously waiting for him, but he didn’t say anything. That was how Jesse was.
“So, are we going into the studio or are we going to learn again?” Brendan enjoyed their learning sessions. He had recorded every single experience, though Jesse could never read any of the notes. He asked Brendan what they were written in but Brendan never gave an answer. It was just an accepted part of who he was.
“I actually wanted to give you a gift. Let’s get inside first. It’s cold out here.” Jesse stood from his relaxed lean against the defaced brick wall. Written in gaudy, thick letters over the already existing graffiti were the words ‘Peace today’. Jesse smiled as he thought of peace in the city. Maybe it was time for such a thing. Brendan and Jesse surely knew that it was happening behind everyone’s eyes, if only the rest of society were willing to look.ʘ
The city was cold and damp that night. The rain had just ended leaving the air musky and thick. Jesse was just leaving the studio—he had been practicing a lot lately for one of the productions—when he noticed some grungy looking men looking around. They entered the alleyway after making sure that no one was watching. Jesse could only shake his head, another drug deal going down. Was there no end to the dirty deeds that this city had to offer; Jesse thought to himself. Status, power, drugs, sex; it wasn’t right. Human trafficking happened all over the world, prostitution was a major issue at hand. Depending on which clan you were born or bought into, all or neither may be legal. Police didn’t get involved with clans and their laws as the clans were at war with each other. They passed human trafficking off as a slightly different term, one that they didn’t have to do anything about; which was slavery. Prostitution was a form of entertainment and drug deals were just a little ‘medical fix’. The police would go to far ends to avoid getting involved with the clans and their business.
Jesse was about to pass yet another homeless person, or runaway, when he noticed that this man was taking notes while watching the men in the alley. Jesse wondered why this man would do such a thing. He wondered if this man was an uncover cop. Jesse looked at the man in an odd way. Even if he was an undercover cop, Jesse couldn’t get in trouble for asking; there were so many things people got away with when justice had no power or authority.
“Excuse me. But do you know how much trouble you’d get in if they caught you?” He didn’t want to stop and talk to the man, but he piqued Jesse’s curiosity that getting home wasn’t important right then. The man was oddly dressed, for a homeless person. His clothes looked far too dirty to be healthy; he didn’t have shoes on, which left his brown feet in plain view. His hair had mud in it, but was a curly, brown colour. The man looked up at him and Jesse stumbled back a bit. He looked innocent in a sense, but his eyes showed wisdom and age. He couldn’t have looked older than twenty-seven, and yet those eyes made him look far older than his prime. Jesse wondered what he could be. He took a sniff of the air, and even with his werewolf senses, he didn’t smell like anything he’d ever encountered before.
“Caught me doing what? I’m observing.” This was one of the crazy ones. Jesse was tempted to walk away; it was just another crazy homeless person, probably a slave that a master had no use for any more. However, those eyes had him wondering, he couldn’t control himself, he had to know about this man. Jesse sat down next to him, looking into the alley and then to the pad that he was writing on. That didn’t even look like English!
“Observing what exactly? It’s just a drug exchange, probably cocaine. That one’s popular right now.” Jesse questioned what must be wrong with him. He was never this open with people. Not even the people he talked with regularly had had such a pleasant and conversation worthy first meeting.
“See, that’s why you’re the same as everyone else. All you can think about is the negative.” The man turned to face him and Jesse jumped back a bit. “See. Even though they are using these bad chemicals—harming themselves—they must have a good reason. Maybe the dealer has a family to feed and this is his only income. Or maybe the chemicals actually serve as a medicine for something like cancer. If that’s the case, why buy from a dealer? Because the buyer can’t pay the hospital’s medical bills.” The man turned back to look at the alleyway, seeing the two men shaking hands and walking in different directions, he smiled. Jesse was astonished. In a city where people are sexually abused on the streets, with reptiles and other creatures running around, and an occasional faerie or demon, no one had driven Jesse to the idea that maybe there could be good in this society. The chemicals were negative, drugs were always bad, but maybe it didn’t have to be negative.
“My name’s Brendan.” He turned and smiled to Jesse and something twitched inside of him. Abruptly, he stood up. “Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind,” he said over his shoulder as he walked away. He hoped to god that he didn’t see Brendan again.
Nonetheless, Brendan was at the studio the next day. When he saw Jesse, his face brightened a smile wide and proud on his face. He had another item that he had observed. Jesse looked into the studio, rolling his eyes. He noticed the other dancers looking at him in a scrutinizing way, wondering why Jesse would be talking to such a person.
Brendan started to ramble on about the things that he had seen in between their first meeting—last night—and now. Jesse averted his eyes, looking anywhere but at Brendan, nor the dancers. It didn’t take long for Brendan to notice that Jesse wasn’t really paying attention; he glanced at the studio and saw the way the dancers looked at him.
“Oh. I’ll leave you alone” Brendan walked away, looking a little hurt before smiling and trying to pick his next part of town. So this man didn’t want to listen; no one wanted to listen. There was no reason to be upset over such things. He planned on mapping out the town and finding as much proof as possible. He was far older than he should be and Brendan had no idea why. However, he believed that if he watched, and found that this society couldn’t be as distraught as compared to the 16th century, that maybe he might find his answer. All that he knew was that he was created as a golem, his creator practised the forbidden magic, and Brendan has been in a human body ever since then. There had to be some way to find his answers.
“No. Um, why don’t you come in?” Jesse tried desperately to create an excuse for his odd behaviour but none came to mind. ‘Am I insane?’ he thought to himself as he tried to find a rational answer. He held the door open for Brendan—who slowly inched inside—as Brendan was curious as to why Jesse would have a sudden change of heart. “My name’s Jesse, by the way.” He was looking down, embarrassed that he could be so different around this man, without an eligible reason. It had to be because of his outlook on society.
Again, Brendan continued to show Jesse the brighter sides of this society. Brendan claimed Jesse as a friend, and accepted that Jesse was uncertain of their relationship. He accepted people using him. It’s what people in this current day society did. No one realised that they used the people around them more than they thought; but they did. Brendan enjoyed the fact that Jesse didn’t use him though. It wasn’t using, Jesse was learning. Jesse only conversed with Brendan because he was driven by curiosity; but eventually he actually felt the need to see the truths about his world.ʘ
Jesse held the door open for Brendan and the other dancers in the studio greeted them. Everyone knew Jesse—he was their lead dancer—and everyone knew Brendan thanks to Jesse. Brendan had more friends thanks to Jesse, and he tried to thank him for it often, but Jesse always pushed it aside as if he didn’t want to address the matter. The truth is, he didn’t want to address the matter.
“Brendan, I have some sandwiches. I made a few extra and thought that maybe you would like one . . .” It was Sophie, one the petite dancers. Brendan smiled and took the sandwich, a warm thank you following as he started to have a small conversation with her. He noticed the edge to Jesse’s behaviour and soon said another thank you before turning to look over at Jesse, who was placing his dance bag down on the ground. Odd. The bag was larger than normal.
“I got another membership,” Jesse stated, trying to take the easy way out. He had a gift for Brendan, but it was difficult for him to get this across. He had never been very easy and open with people. His parents had taught him better than to trust someone so easily, not in this society. Nevertheless, Brendan seemed to be an exception.
“Oh really? Where are you dancing now?” Brendan smiled. Jesse cursed quietly in his head. Of course, he was oblivious to such a thing. Brendan was too humble to assume anything. Moreover, even though Jesse had stated that he wanted to give him something, the idea never connected in his odd mind.
“Well, I’m not dancing anywhere else. I actually got the membership for you.” Jesse was looking away, purposely trying to avoid Brendan’s gaze. He had to look up though, to see his reaction; he was too silent for Jesse to know what he was thinking. Brendan’s ancient eyes pinned him down for a moment before Jesse gained his control back. Maybe he was too stunned to be saying such a thing. Jesse knew that he was. He hoped that no one else could hear his moment of weakness.
“I also thought that maybe you could move in with me. I’ve been looking for a roommate for a while now,” Jesse was rambling a bit, something he did often when nervous; just not something he often showed in public.
“Why the sudden change of heart? Does this mean that we’re friends?” he said the word hesitantly, worried that maybe Jesse would take it all back in fear. He knew well enough what Jesse’s problem was. Other people in society couldn’t understand it, some of which never noticed it, but Brendan wasn’t like the rest of them.
“I guess. I just mean that, you’ve shown me a lot and I want to thank you for that,” he blushed a bit. Brendan always knew exactly what he was thinking and why he was acting. It was as if he saw through Jesse’s façades and it thrilled Jesse to a small extent. When a conformist rebels, there is always that thrill of the act.
“Thank you so much Jesse.” Brendan said little else as he hugged his new friend. Maybe it wasn’t the fact that Brendan was odd and looked down upon in society. Jesse thought that was the reason. However, he knew Brendan’s eyes weren’t the cause, which had drawn him in. It wasn’t that he knew why Jesse did what he did and knew what he would do next. It was because; maybe his parents had been wrong. Brendan had shown him parts of society that he had never expected to see. Even though it was Brendan who had shown him, society had proven. Maybe it was possible to trust someone so carefree, in this society. Jesse wasn’t too sure of whether or not he should do this, but he wanted to rebel. He wanted to stand out against society, and see if he could prove that everyone was wrong. Society didn’t need to change; the people in society just needed to open their eyes.
Even without Brendan saying anything about it, Jesse knew that Brendan knew. It was just a common knowledge between them not to say anything.