Escape

A young girl and her Grandmother escape the clutches of the Rogue Riders.

"To the boat, quickly now come on," Nainai urged, framing my tiny face with her frail boney hands. I clambered off the stoney beach and waded through the water towards the little row boat that was floating a few feet away. Five steely men sat inside, waiting for us. The frosted grey water hissed beneath my feet and held my long garments back as Nainai ushered me on hastily from behind. This was the last boat. We couldn't miss it. 

"Meiying, go!"

I heaved my weight towards the boat, and fastened my small hand around the wooden edge. Two of the men helped us in, first me, then my grandmother. One then lit a lantern at the front of the boat while the others plucked up the oars and started rowing. The lantern light spread dully through the pale mist and Nàinài whispered for me.  She wrapped her partly wet shawl around my small body and held me close. Turning my head I looked back at the narrow beach. The leering black wall of the mountain reflected its sharp obsidian exterior on the water. My eyes slowly climbed the rock face to the flat rim of the mountain and I saw them: riders, rogue demons straight from the north. Their slim silhouettes against the moonlight moved unnaturally astride their sickly skinny steeds and their flaming torches were held high against the black of night.  The rider in the middle reined its horse up onto its hind legs and fixed its deathly eyes on me. In turn the rest of them twisted their heads in a singular motion to watch us. 

I sucked in a breath, feeling the fear pierce my body like an icy cold. The brackish scent of seaweed clung to the water like a perfume.

"Nainai," I barely breathed, raising my finger to the ghostly figures evenly spread along the plateau above. The horse let out a piercing shriek, before landing gruffly on the ground again, and its rider then signalled to the others and lead them off to the left. Nainai turned my body away from the rock without more than a whisper, but I could still hear the echoes of the rogue army riding, ricochetting off the canyon walls. My skin prickled, each hair rose stiffly down the nape of my neck. My eyes floundered upwards to the front of the boat and I noticed the steely men were eyeing me. Their lantern-lit pupils peered out from under straw hats and their long moustaches swayed eerily in the faint wind. I lowered my eyes quickly and turned my gaze to the water. The jagged rock of the black canyon walls appeared beside us through the thinning fog. I slowly became aware of other boats ahead of us, lantern-lit, and packed to the brim with families. All were holding children like me or smaller, with their mothers, or in few cases, their grandmothers. The fathers? They were gone, fighting the war, protecting us from the dread perched atop the cliff.  But if we were running, it was obvious they hadn't been victorious. And now, the hunt was on. 

Author's Note

(Listen to this while you read? I based this piece off of the image this song created http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q0K3wbTxM58 )
Be honest
Be Brutal
This is a prologue of sorts, for a story that I want to pursue, however I want your guys opinion. Can you picture the scene clearly? Is anything unclear? Are you interested, did I keep your attention? Hows my imagery? Good, bad. Should I scrap it, or keep going? Reviews are 100% appreciated!
Thanks all
Sarah

Reviews

[Patrick Henry]

Why were you there alone?! I couldn't help you in the freakin' boat fast enough!! lol Over on this island, whilst your father is away at war, hanging out with grandma in the dark of night? How did you even get there or were these people, people you arrived WITH and like the show on TV "Lost", were you to manage something on this island, even if only for temporary value or necessity?! The urgency was nuts, Sarah!! lol I'm telling you, after reading into the second paragraph, I was wishing I had hit your butt, maybe flipped you in the boat, give grandma a shot of adrenaline or throw her prune juice into the boat for added incentive because in the beginning of the story.... you are "wading" through the water with this "wedding train" of garment just dragging behind you.


Out of the 523 words in this story ..."and 56 The's and about 40+ I's, My's, and To's"... your story certainly has a lot of punch to it!! With only two misspellings, "signaled and mustaches", you have done well with checking your spelling mistakes, and/or just knowing how to spell!! lol If it were to be realized as to the necessary means WHY those girls were on that island with a bony-hand grandma that is up in her years, this story will need to build on the OTHER island they are seeking safety at, the purpose of why this war is being actuated and fought, and WHY the beings on the island you are fleeing from... don't follow you into the water. The view they have atop the mountain to watch your retreat is "posting and propping", meaning that they are displaying ownership of the land beneath them, and standing guard from a great vantage point. Curiously, they did not follow them down or cut off their impending escape at the beach which would be the only way off, considering that this was the "last" boat to leave. If other boats left before this, there should be little worry of defeating stupid beings, but always fear their "looks" of course. It's only natural to, but to defeat an enemy that does not know how to govern its own strengths, should not be feared at all.


I, almost, got kicked out of school for bringing this book to school, but there is a book called "The Art of War" by Sun Tzu, and probably about a warrior general named Sun Wu, where text and records show an actual timeline of such things described in the book as being used and succeeding. Having knowledge of such a story makes for practical and great story line and construction in a story about ANY war, Sarah!! : ) Read it... you will Love it. : )


The only thing that threw me off was that dialogue only really took place inside these tiny channels between the paragraphs. INSIDE the paragraphs, there are words that replace ownership and direction gets a little impeded if this story takes off to become something greater. Having words "general ones like me, we, you etc..." like those, takes away from siding with the character you have spent time on building up. Feeling empathetic toward an emotion or character would be just as important and smart as the "flow" so many speak of, but in little detail to explain the "why".


Good luck, Sarah. You are a beautiful writer. Your language was strong, uniquely passive, but very accommodating to drawing on this distant place with little fanfare of dolling up the scene, and relying on your talent to paint this vivid imagery that smacks us straight into the moment!! This kind of reminds me of a story that would play upon the form of starting like ...a little back story where you hear of Love, some characters that meant a lot to the hero or legend of when it comes to understanding the hero's role or why the girl has so much fight in her right off the bat. It's not assumed no longer. It's understood and without adding a lot of crazy details, we would understand that this girl will befriend other heroes, protect her name, and fight to the death for Loved ones if she has to. If we were to understand the father's role, we might have an inside "before the story" on him as well, as far as what has gotten him to this place in his life, and if this war is designed out of fear, anger, and/or revenge for some past dealing with whatever haunts him and the fold around him.


What you said on Julie's comment makes sense to me, but without you wanting to "add" me, I am reluctant to throw more words at you that may be hitting upon the proverbial "deaf ear". You have written books where I have written in poem form. Maybe, this is what is seen on this site and my insight or idea is not known to many that might benefit me OR them. Who knows?! lol Great story, so far!! Beautiful, Sarah.....



xoxox -Your Mark

[dave]

Great job, Sarah! You did a really good job of putting the reader in the moment, the suspense was nearly palpable. Something I think may help, though, for when you are describing setting, especially when it is supposed to be suspenseful, is to avoid using adjectives. They can bog down the writing- instead, you can try to portray those adjectives indirectly with things that can represent them:
"Metallic" versus
"A cold metal shine."
That's a poor example, but what I am trying to say is that avoiding the use of adjectives can really help your work flow. But anyway- what you have here is really good, and I would definitely enjoy reading more. Once again, great job.

[Sarah]

I get your point, I'll review it later and see what I can maybe cut out. Thank you for taking the time to review :D
Sarah

[E.A.B]

Imagery was great! I could see everything clearly! The story was intense. I felt her fear, and her anxiety. (all good). I'm interested. I enjoy fantasy. Maybe a little more description for the demons? I know sometimes writers haven't quite worked out in their own heads what something will look like but in this case it would add to the fear of the scene. That's all. I'll look forward to more from you.

Happy Writing!

[Sarah]

Thank you greatly! I will get on that description for sure, in later writing, and post it for all to see. I am glad you liked it. Thank you for putting the time into it. Really appreciated :)
Sarah