[1192]The parts I remember (Psychological fiction)

​

Hey, so this is my first attempt at writing something I figured I'd run it by the community.

Questions I would like you all to answer

Q1 Were their Amy scenes that felt forced, fake, or only for the reader?

Q2 Was the countdown system gimmicky or actually efficient?

Q3 Did the dialogue feel natural and narration feel natural and in character or not?

Q4 Would you like to scrap any part or any scene of the story completely?

​

In general, any other criticism is also much appreciated.

​

Link to the critique

https://www.reddit.com/r/DestructiveReaders/s/gySHB8GFdy

https://www.reddit.com/r/DestructiveReaders/s/TLSHaboBhC

​

The story

​

​

Chapter 1

I woke up to an eerie disturbance in the air, Like the sound of a fan. The sound you only notice when you aim to. I was up too early so I decided to take a stroll.

The street was deserted,silent.

Filled with people. Those with their own lives. Those not present in mine.

I'd like to keep it that way for now.

​

Its not like I haven't tried. I have. Truly.

The thing is..if I reach out and they happen to dislike me, I lose the very chance of connection. So I preserve the tiny glimmer of hope.

I find myself standing at the king's beach. Alone,but not entirely.

Almost poetic.

I see someone advancing towards me.

'Hey, you..come here every morning?' She asks

'Most mornings' I say with a hope rising within me.

'What's so special about here?'

'Its quiet. Peaceful'

'I mean I live alone. My house is peaceful too, you know.’

'Then why did you come here?’

‘No no,that's not the point. I meant would you like to..come over perhaps. It's peaceful there.’

‘But people talking is not peaceful. It's noise.’

She stared for a moment.

‘Right.’

She just..she walks away.

I watched her disappear into the distance.

She agreed with me. Right?

Did..did I say...did I say something wrong?

Chapter 2

I turn to the stairs, stuffing the eeriness in the back of my mind and college as my primary objective.

I cook myself some toast, grab a cup of coffee and leave home.

I find the street almost exactly as I left it. Filled with these..these people. I take a walk to college. Another regular day. The long walk brought my mind to..to a piece of memory..something he couldn't actually forget.

...

It was another normal day. A day almost exactly like this one.

I had woken up long before time. So, I went out for a walk.

While what seemed like an endless and quite definitely an aimless walk,I noticed someone crying along the river bank.

In spite of my desire to turn an oblivious eye to the incident,my best instincts decided against it.

‘Hey..uhh..hey Madam. I'm sorry but..but I couldn't help noticing your state. Is there..has there been…been something bothering you.’

I said cursing my best instincts trying to hide my trembling hand in my coat pockets.

She turned towards me.

She had eyes as blue and playful as the sea waves.

She said something. Something about me being kind and considerate.

On my further urging,she told me something..something related to the reason she was crying.

God I wish I had remembered.

We talked for a while.

About things. Important things I think. She laughed at one point. Or smiled.

When she finally left, I continued walking.

I remember feeling lighter somehow.

I don't know why.

The river felt..prettier.

Chapter 3

'It's a good weather for fishing' I said to myself.

The sky was full of dark grey clouds with no foreseeable sight of sun. Rain was almost imminent.

Perfect weather for poets and writers. For me.

Almost poetic.

I looked in the sea to check its depth. The blue eyes stared back at me.

She..she was my only connection. to the outside world. The only thing I could call socializing. Talking to her came almost as easily as talking to myself. I thought it was the same case for her.

Thought.

I caught something. A fish perhaps. A possibly large one. I pulled it out as I recalled I didn't bring a fish bucket.

So, I left the fish beside me.

I brought her here once too. She asked me where I spent all my time. I remember her blonde hair glimmering in the dark..or was it black. We had a long conversation discussing fishing,literature and..something else. I remember she told me something major had happened that day. No..no that wasn't it, she didn't tell me. It was…there was a strange look on her face. Like something and been bothering her.

‘What's wrong?’I remember asking

‘Several things.’

‘Such as?’

‘The economy.’

‘The economy?’

‘And a suspicious lack of chocolate.’

She did that. Answering serious questions with silly answers.

But I believe something had been bothering her.

She laughed.

But that look never left her face.

9

Chapter 4

Another regular day.

I passed by a beggar today. He was slender with his ribs projecting outwards. It was quite apparent he hadn't eaten in days. What poverty does to a person.

Poverty. She was poor too..I think.

She asked me for financial help sometime. Or tried to at least.

Her dog was injured. Car accident I believe.

I asked how much the surgery cost

I remember calculating how many fishing rods I could buy with that money.

I said I wasn't well versed with money.

She..disagreed? No, that must not be it.

I remember giving her the money, reluctantly, but surely I did.

Chapter 5

I always found the idea of people grieving over a rock and a body that's probably not even there anymore amusing.

I visited the cemetery near my house whenever I felt stupid. Or lonely.

There were hobos collected around a spot there. Probably grieving one of their own.

Grieving I believe is an act of compassion towards the deceased in a way that is..well unreasonable.

I mean grieving over something that quite literally doesn't exist anymore baffles me.

But whatever makes people happy.

She brought me to a cemetery once too.

Someone's death anniversary.

I told her what I told you.

That going there is pointless.

That he doesn't exist anymore.

The next day. No notifications on my phone. It..it used to be filled with her..stupid reels about..something.

That was the last day I talked to her,or to anyone in fact.

And..strangely it doesn't hurt because she left. It hurts because I don't know why?

I mean it was supposed to be perfect.

​

Chapter 6

Just another day. Another crowd of people. Or the same. There's no difference really.

But there was.

I saw a glimmer of a face that I know.

Gushing through the crowd of people, I caught up to her.

'Hey'

Nothing.

'Why? Why did you leave?'

'You..you seriously don't know?'

'No, of course not.'

Her face turned pale.

As if..as if she were scared of me.

I grabbed her tightly by the arm.

'Why?' I

'Please..please just..just leave me alone.' Her voice faltered.

'WHY' I roared,trying to mask my helplessness.

'Because you never actually listened. Because you were just present. Not there.'

My grip loosened.

She fled the place. But not before giving me a horrifying glare.

I would never forget those dark brown eyes peering into me.

​

He stood there.

Horrified.

Watching her run away from him.

He desired more answers

He wanted her to elaborate, but he couldn't get her to.

He couldn't harm her more

Her eyes told him as much.

​

​