Dear, Sweet Jen : A Short Story

Discussion in 'General Discussion' started by Michael Kras, May 4, 2009.

  1. OKAY, this is not magic-related in any way, shape, or form, but it's an exhibition of my other passion for writing. After all, this is yet another way of channeling creativity. Typically, I write horror shorts, or something revolving around a morbidly disturbing topic. This one isn't horror at all... rather, it's quite contradictory of my usual writing style as this piece is much more sensitive (to an almost embarrassing extent), honest, and dramatic. It in no way reflects my personality or anything in my life, nor my mentality. With that in mind, please enjoy (and comment on!) this story. I'd love to hear your thoughs on this.


    DEAR, SWEET JEN
    By Michael Kras

    “My dear, sweet Jen. How have you been?”

    I stopped after that. For some strange reason, I could think of nothing else to add at that moment. A walk would surely clear my head.

    It had been a while since I had seen my dear, sweet Jen… almost a year. I haven’t tried to contact her until now, and I can’t think of a single thing to say. It’s bizarre… I have SO MUCH to say, but can’t get anything out. Funny how things can work that way sometimes.

    Rain was pouring down in a light drizzle that night. Although it was thin, like a mist, it was abundant and I was quite damp within minutes. I was freezing cold, but that was the last thing on my mind… all I could think about was my dear, sweet Jen. I had so much to say but no way to say it. So much frustration over my dear, sweet Jen. The walk helped, but the constancy of speeding cars, headlights aglow and motors humming, was too much distraction. I walked back to my apartment.

    “My dear, sweet Jen. How have you been? I miss you so much and do not go a day without thinking of you. I was once complete, you made me complete… but not anymore.”

    Again, I blanked. I sat at my small kitchen table in the back corner of my apartment, the only light coming from a small overhead light that shone a gentle yellow glow atop my notebook. I can remember the last time I felt truly happy… when I married my dear, sweet Jen. She looked so beautiful, walking toward me down the aisle. It was a moment of true bliss, a moment where I could completely forget my wedding stresses and just be in the moment. I even forgot my own name. She stood in front me, gazing into my eyes… I gazed back. Her eyes said more to me than her words ever could. It was a beautiful, blissful, unbreakable trance. I laugh thinking about our “I do’s” because I couldn’t get any words out. I managed a “yeah”. I remember tearing up right then and there, looking at my dear, sweet Jen. She teared up too. Memories.

    “My dear sweet Jen. How have you been? I miss you so much and do not go a day without thinking of you. I was once complete, you made me complete… but not anymore. My love for you has never gone… I adore you as much as they day we met.”

    What a day that was. Jen wouldn’t have given me so much as a bit of eye contact in the halls of our high school. Naïve, and foolish, I thought she was playing hard-to-get. Such self-assurances were a good distraction from reality… she didn’t even know who I was. But that one day was special. I admired Jen from afar as she walked down the hall in front of me just after school. We were the only two people there… and even then she didn’t notice I existed. I kept my distance, but never once looked away from her as she walked. Even from behind, she was beautiful.

    Then it happened. Jen didn’t even see the paper on the floor. She stepped carelessly on it, slipped on it, and crashed onto the hard beige tile of the hallway floor. Panicked, I ran over to Jen, asking if she was okay. I helped her stand, just barely… she has twisted her ankle, pretty badly too. And there we went, arm in arm, down the rest of the hall and to the office where we called her parents. Those two minutes, pacing ourselves through the rows of lockers, was one of the warmest and most memorable moments of my life. I introduced myself, and she did the same. Holding her, comforting her, there was nothing I would have rather been doing. That’s when we finally met… a day that remains more vivid than any other day in my life.

    “My dear, sweet Jen. How have you been? I miss you so much and do not go a day without thinking of you. I was once complete, you made me complete… but not anymore. My love for you has never gone… I adore you as much as they day we met. Remember that day? That was when we both felt it… the spark. And you took that away. You left. How could you leave me that day? Why then? Why EVER?”

    Tears stain my stationery as I think back to the one life-changing day. A day I couldn’t forget despite how desperately I want to. Hell, I can’t even remember why it happened or how it happened. Jen said she never wanted to see me again. We’d been screaming at each other for an hour… I wish I could remember why. Our eyes were red, our faces stained and dry, our voices fading. I’ve never been in so much pain… pain from no physical infliction. I couldn’t think straight anymore, and I threw a glass directly my dear, sweet Jen. The moment it slipped from my grasp, I regretted it. Jen buckled to her knees, sobbing and staring at me with a desperate look in her eyes… sad puppy eyes, glistening in light, showing brutal honesty and pain. Her eyes said more to me than her words ever could have. She loved me, but no longer wanted to. It was the first time my dear, sweet Jen’s heart had ever been broken… mine too. It was the first time I had ever hurt my dear, sweet Jen, and I cry every time I think about it.

    My dear, sweet Jen walked out the door, got into her car, and drove away. I stood, leaning against the doorway, sobbing. She was sobbing too. I couldn’t take it. I had to go after my dear, sweet Jen. I ran to my car, I could barely see. The engine nearly startled me as it came to a roaring start. I drove off, in the same direction as my dear, sweet Jen had gone just moments before.

    I’d lost her… her car, nowhere in sight. I twisted through the streets, trying to find my dear sweet Jen. I listened, into the distance, desperately trying to hear her cries in sheer futility. I never heard sobs, none other than my own. I also heard the sirens, in the distance.

    I leapt out of my car, and ran… ran for my dear, sweet Jen… how far away was she? Running for her seemed to take an eternity, and probably did. I turned the corner of the street after running for what felt like mile and miles, stopping dead in my tracks right then and there. The ambulance was driving off, carrying her away… carrying my dear, sweet Jen away. She had got her wish… she’d never see me again.


    “My dear, sweet Jen. How have you been? I miss you so much and do not go a day without thinking of you. I was once complete, you made me complete… but not anymore. My love for you has never gone… I adore you as much as they day we met. Remember that day? That was when we both felt it… the spark. And you took that away. You left. How could you leave me that day? Why then? Why EVER?

    I want you to know, my dear, sweet Jen, that I’m so regretful of what I said and did to you before you left me. We both left each other heartbroken, something neither of us wanted. I’m so sorry my dear, sweet Jen. I’ll always love you so much.”


    I found an envelope, marked it with her first name, and tied it to the end of the balloon. The balloon, soft and white, which I had bought personally for my dear, sweet Jen, held the letter tightly. It was time to take another walk.

    I stepped outside, walking gently through the park. I stopped, standing still, and looked up into the sky. I almost expected to see her there, my dear, sweet Jen glancing down at me. I let go of the balloon string, and it soared upward immediately, carrying my soul with it up into the skies. I know she’ll get it soon, my dear, sweet Jen.
     
  2. I am in true love with this piece. Is it true? If so, I am truly sorry for your loss.
     
  3. Oh, good lord no! I'm only 15 years old! This story has nothing to do with me, I promise :). It's just something I wrote for fun.

    This week, I must perform this story as a monologue for my drama class. I will have it filmed and post it up soon!
     
  4. That was amazing, you have a true talent. Keep doing whatever it is you're doing to create these works of literary art, I'd be glad to read more of your writings
     
  5. Hi, I'm a teacher in Toronto and I seriously loved this piece. I spent my entire day reading creative writing works of high school students and I must say this is honestly the best thing I read all day.

    I'm actually putting together a podcast on creative writing and taking it off the page. Would you mind if I contacted you about this peice possibly?
     
  6. Wow, thank you all for such incredible feedback!!!! I'm overjoyed you like my work.

    Rmana, do feel free to contact me, I'd be happy to help or contribute whatever you need.
     
  7. all I can say is WOW! Michael, this is amazing, I saw this thread earlier and decided not to read it, and now I came back after seeing the good feedback on it and read it, this story is great! I would love to read some of your horror shorts that you mentioned....
     
  8. I very much appreciate it, my friend! I have a few horror shorts in particular I'd like to share very soon. Keep your eyes peeled ;).
     
  9. #9 dragon521, May 4, 2009
    Last edited by a moderator: May 4, 2009
    There were some good parts and some meh parts but overall I enjoyed it

    To clarify, I think the dear sweet Jen thing wasn't deep enough to be something worth repeating (as much as you did at least)and my perosnal preference is to read something jam-packed with imagery and figurative language, but the concept was solid.
     
  10. Thank you for your opinion... it's hard to include a lot of depth in a story as short as this but I tried :). One thing I'm happy with is that this story focuses more on character development than my others have in the past. The Dear, Sweet Jen thing has no real significance, at least not any mentioned or hinted to. I just thought it provided an interesting bit in the story... perhaps also indicative of the strong passion and love the story's character has/had for Jen.
     
  11. That was quite well written. Maybe you could post one of your horror stories sometime?
     
  12. beautiful. T^T~
     
  13. Dude..... I dunno.....
    So... so good
     
  14. Isnt that a big kick in the knads? haha
    You spend the whole day looking for something good and find it in a student who doesn't even study in your school? haha... sad...haha no offense by the way.

    I found the story okay.
    It was pretty well written overall with the structure and the pace, but I found it rather dull at sections. It found it rather slow near the beginning but it picked up near the end.
    Overall, loved the ending way more than the beginning haha.
     
  15. Yes, I am the same age as you and I too happen to write passages like this sometimes. Not bad especially for your age. One thing I would suggest I building it up a tad more at the end and make it a little less expexted. I sort of knew it was gonna happen since the beginning. But very good in general
     
  16. Bleagh, cliche, unadventurous and no where near as smart as it thought it was.


    Other than that....great! :rolleyes:
     
  17. Thank you for a useless comment. Why not point out how I could improve, instead of just blatantly listing off critical opinions?
     
  18. Because frankly I thought I'd spare you the pain, and let you dismiss it as a useless comment. You obviously enjoy the circle jerk that erupted more than the possibility that this might just be cliche gibberish that suggests that you should stick to magic.


    Aside from the confused tense throughout this entire disaster of a section of text, the ridiculous use of punctuation and the absence of anything above first level writing that would denote even a modicum of talent (using punctuation for pacing, metaphors, showing rather than just telling etc) there are some glaring errors in what you've even said. Rain pouring down in a light drizzle? Incongruity much? Guy walking in the rain thinking about his lost love? Cliche, much?

    I know you probably believe that repeating, "my dear sweet Jen" is reflective of a mental state, or adds a demonstration of where this guys head is, but its just irritating, misplaced and ridiculous repetition of an idea that you feel is tremendously important, at the expense of any sensible use of language.

    The reality here is, you're 15. You're attempting to write something that you believe is actually how people behave when stuff like this happens to them, when in fact you're clearly drawing from no experience at all. Even if you could write, this would be a huge overreach for you. The only time a guy tells a girl that she made him complete its with a real agenda. There's nothing real about any of this. It doesn't reflect a true male human thought process, its a bunch of cliches that should be told through the use of metaphor, perhaps using some environmental factors rather than some Disney romance letter.

    The rest of this is just more and more ridiculousness. The tense issues continue, with parts of sentances changing tense. Even if it were for dramatic effect (which you may claim it is) the structure is apauling.

    Awww shucks and he puts her name in a balloon....persumably the great romantic heart string puller you were hoping for is something as over done, obvious and ridicvulous as her being dead immediately after an argument meaning he can -never- see her again. Wow. What a fantastic load of total tripe.

    This is so bad it actually offends me. Why not read some actual decent fiction and attempt to at least emulate some of the subtleties employed.

    To use an example.....there's a section in a book that you've probably read, where a character is waiting to be shot, and he looks around. The descriptions of the scenery impose more emotion than the thought process, the whole thing is emotive. This is just a non nonsensical, poorly executed self serving rant with no originality and no style.

    How do you get better form there?

    Learn about tenses, re-read what you've written, correct your narrative. Moving pieces of writing are -not- generated by just saying what someone feels internally. (In part because writing a realistic portrayal of what someone is feeling is near impossible, and moreover probably unpleasant.) Instead, they are produced by the whole piece.

    This was all so cliche, obvious, done before and appalling that I actually feel I wasted five minutes of my life reading it. I hate the fact that anyone can put pen to paper, and produce drivel like this and call themselves a 'writer.' If you loved writing, as you claim, then you'd be absolutely ****ing ashamed to have produced this, posted it, and worse than that accepted praise for it.
     
  19. Fair enough. But my work offends you? That's a bit harsh, don't you think? After all, I'm just writing for fun... I just posted a bit of my work here to see what people thought, but it appears as though I shouldn't have considering my insultingly offensive work and my cliche storylines. It's a romantic short story. I do not read romance, in fact this was originally intended as a horror but I changed it for a slight change of pace. I know nothing about romance, and considering such I didn't think this story would turn out to be anything. I'm proud of this piece, in particular, but perhaps I'm just a sucker for mediocrity.

    I'll stick to magic. Thank you for the suggestion.
     
  20. Nor should you ever read a piece of fiction billed as 'romance' but there are literary works that have romance as a theme within them that you should read. To use a pop culture reference, but a good one none the less, Captain Corelli's Mandolin by De Bernier, or his less well known piece, A Partisan's Daughter are fantastic examples of works where whilst they aren't romances, have huge romantic overtones and demonstrate how to write operating on a huge number of levels.

    There is a simple tennant in writing. A good writer should never. under any circumstances, in any genre produce more than they have read.
     

Share This Page

Searching...
{[{ searchResultsCount }]} Results