Novel Treatments / Evil in the Mirror--Contractions

Kevin rubbed his burning eyes.  Crying and riding in the turret without his goggles on had dried them out.  He picked through his field first-aid kit and found a bottle of saline, which he squirted into each red, swollen eye.

Casper quickly located Jeff’s last coordinates, and the men fanned out to find the remains of the Iraq trail. Once located, they regrouped and followed the two tracks, predator and prey, watching for signs of Jeffrey and his spotter.

The men silently walked several miles, then once they were sure the area was clear, would call in the Humvees and stage them.  So it went for most of the day, walking over hills and around them, through sand and into dry riverbeds, walking ahead of the Humvees then calling them up to wait.  As the day progressed the men moved more cautiously and communicated by hand signals, sure they were getting close.
        
Kevin stopped suddenly and signaled for his men to drop to the ground.  He pointed to a distant hill—the highest in the immediate area—with a figure seated upon its summit.

While his men crawled for cover, Kevin slithered behind them for a vantage point on higher ground.

Rifles cocked and ready for a fight, Kevin’s men nervously scanned their surroundings for any hint of an attack.

Kevin climbed up the loose rocky hill on his belly.  At the crest of the hill he raised his field glasses to his eyes.  Squinting into the sun he could make out details of a man seated on the hilltop.  His blood ran cold.

Spick had just turned toward the figure when he heard Kevin scrambling over the top of the hill behind him.  

“Sarge!  Come back!” Gabe yelled.  Kevin ran past the others, discarding his pack and his rifle to lighten his load.  His men jumped to their feet.

“Jesus,” Spick mumbled, running after Kevin with his rifle drawn, unsure what he had seen.  Gabe and Bobby quickly followed while Casper covered them from the rear.

Stumbling and grabbing dirt with his hands to climb up the side of the hill, Kevin finally reached the figure everyone had seen.  He grabbed his helmet and turned away, then turned back to the figure and doubled over.  Spick plodded up the hill and reached the top.  Kevin looked back at him with tears rolling down his cheeks.  

“Sarge, what’s wrong?” Spick asked, “what’s wrong?”  Kevin gestured toward the man seated a few feet away and his face twisted into bitter anguish.  Spick wrapped his arm around Kevin to comfort him and looked at the man.

Gabe reached the summit.  Seeing Kevin’s condition, he looked at the seated figure and quickly turned away in disgust.  

“Oh God . . . Jeffrey,” Bobby muttered sadly when he reached the hilltop.

Kevin cried hard and fell to his knees, reaching out to touch the body of his friend.

Spick stopped him.  “No man, he’s booby trapped.”  He gently pulled Kevin’s arm back.

“Fuckin’ sand niggers,” Bobby said in disbelief.  “They tied him to a couple of grenades after they propped him up on that board.”  Gabe refused to look back, but swallowed hard when he heard those words.

Kevin’s mind raced as he cried over Jeffrey’s body.

My head . . . it feels so full. . . I wish I could reach in and pull these memories out of my mind!  He deserved better than this . . . Despite every desire to look away a flood of memories kept him fixed on Jeffrey’s body, absorbing every horrific detail.

He made us laugh . . . so full of love!  Oh god the pain he went through, dying alone . . . it’s not fair . . . it’s not fair . . .  Kevin’s stomach hurt and he sat back on his heels and cried out.
        
“We’re going to have to set those grenades off before we can move him, man,” Spick whispered under Kevin’s cries.

When his thoughts turned to the kindness Jeff’s mother had shown him after graduation, Kevin grew angry.  He snarled and spit through his tears and squeezed sand in his hands until his knuckles were white.

Jeff’s mother will receive a flag-draped coffin, not a warm bear hug.  My god, she’ll be devastated by the news!  Those monsters . . . those fuckin’ animals!  

Kevin screamed and threw the sand at the setting sun—in the direction of the Iraqi Unit Jeffrey had been chasing.

Gabe tried to settle Kevin and hold him back.  He still couldn’t look at Jeff’s body.

Casper reached the top of the hill and looked at Jeff.  “Wow, looks like they cut him up pretty good before he died.  He was still alive when they tied him to the board—see how the wire cut his wrists as he struggled?”

Kevin yelled and covered his face with his hands.

“Christ Casper, you’re not helping!” Gabe chided.

Casper ignored him.  “So let’s pick him up and take him with us.”

“Grenades,” Spick said, pointing to Jeffrey’s lap.  Casper shook his head.

“I’m gonna take Sarge away from this,” Gabe said, propping Kevin up.  He pulled Kevin to his feet but his knees buckled and Gabe dropped him.

“I’ll help you,” Bobby offered.  “You and Spick going to be able to handle this?”

“I don’t see how we’re going to get him down without setting off the grenades,” Casper said.  Spick swallowed and nodded in morbid agreement.  

Kevin whimpered as he was led down the hill.  His mind was spinning and the ground under his feet was rolling like the deck of a ship in a storm.
        
“This should be far enough,” Gabe said, sitting Kevin in the sand a safe distance from the hill.  Bobby looked back to Spick and Casper working quickly in the twilight.  Kevin pounded at the sand on either side of his legs, sobbing.

He needed me, I let him down . . . I left him to die on that hill! He put his hands over his face then leaned on his elbows, crumpled in half.  Pressure increased inside his head as he reviewed the images of his friend’s body.  In a matter of hours the bedrock that supported him in an uncertain, deadly world had crumbled.
I should have gone . . . it should be me on that hill!  I led him to his death . . . his mother, god his mother . . . it’s my fault!  
        
Kevin leaned back and yelled into the sky with his fists clenched in frustrated anger.  Powerless to do anything else, yet driven to do something, anything, he tried to stand up.  

They’re going to die for this . . . I’ll scatter their pieces to the wind!  I’m going to torture them . . . make them suffer!

“It’s ok Sarge, just take it easy,” Gabe said, sitting him back down.  “Let them work up there so we can get going.”
        
Kevin looked at the shadows of Casper and Spick on the hilltop.  They began to descend, walking towards him.  Kevin lunged forward and grunted, pointing to Jeff’s body.

Don’t leave him!  He’s still one of my men!

“Don’t worry, they’re bringing him with us,” Bobby said quietly.
Kevin looked up at Gabe and Bobby through swollen red eyes, a look of sorrow creasing his face and turning the corners of his mouth down.  His expression pleaded with them not to leave Jeff behind.

“We’re not leaving without him,” Bobby said, placing his hand on Kevin’s shoulder.  He looked up at Gabe.  “We should probably turn him around.”  
Gabe nodded in agreement.  “C’mon Sarge, let’s start walking back to the Humvees.”

Kevin’s eyes welled up with tears again as he furiously shook his head.  Gabe and Bobby fought to stand him up but he refused.  

“Jeffrey . . . Jeffrey,” Kevin sobbed.  “Oh my god.”  The vision of what he’d seen on the hilltop proved to be too much, and Kevin fell limp on his belly.  He pounded his fists into the sand as he gritted his teeth in determined anger.

We’re going to get them . . . we’re going to kill every last one of those motherfuckers!  They will pay for what they did!  We have to do something . . . we have to kill them!  I’ll do it myself if I have to! The scar on his cheek burned more than the day he received it in basic.  Furious, he pulled his sidearm from his hip and tried to stand.

“God, get that pistol out of his hand,” Bobby urged.  Gabe grabbed Kevin’s hand and struggled to disarm him.  Kevin’s fist swung wildly as Gabe pried Kevin’s fingers from the grip.  Bobby dodged and weaved as the barrel crossed him several times.

“The safety is on,” Gabe said, inspecting the pistol.  He cleared it and put it in his pocket.

Bobby tried to turn Kevin away from the hilltop.  “C’mon Sarge, let them work.”  With considerable effort he managed to turn him in the opposite direction.

Spick waited until Kevin was faced away.  “Clear!” he yelled, holding a small box wired to the hilltop.  Everyone turned away as Spick pressed a button to detonate an explosive charge.

Don’t leave him up there . . . bring him back for his mother . . . it’s all that she has left . . . Spick, bring him down . . . please Spick . . .

Everyone that is, except Kevin.  He turned around at the sound of Spick’s call and saw the silhouette of his friend disintegrate in a chunky ball of fire and debris.  

A tremendous pressure filled his head at the sight, and Kevin screamed in horror.  His body went limp with shock and he passed out.

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campb26593 avatar General Friend

July 10, 2008

campb26593

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campb26593 reviewed Version 1 - Read 100% of the Item

This is pretty good. I got a clear idea that Kevin’s grief was pushing him over the edge. I’m not sure that this piece could ever achieve a ten because the range of the character arc is too short, but here are my humble suggestions:

While Kevin might cry, he would not sit at his .50 cal and blubber. For men in Kevin’s circumstances all negative emotions have to pass through anger-management issues first. Then they emerge as neurotic behavior (aggression, depression, addiction) rather than a healthy show of emotion. I’d believe the crying if it was induced during therapy—far away from his military duties.

“Sand nigger” is emotional but questionable. I pasted a URL below that lists some army slang used in Iraq. The slang word used for an Iraqi national is “Haji.” Starting in 2005, the slang word “Muj” was used for insurgents.

<a target=”_blank” href=” http://www.globalsecurity.org/military/ops/iraq-slang.htm
”> http://www.globalsecurity.org/military/ops/iraq-slang.htm

“…absorbing every horrific detail.” Show this by comparing the Jeffery’s wounds to various food preparation techniques.

“…Spick whispered under Kevin’s cries.” Reduce the number of variations on the word “cry.” Please find a synonym or two.

“…Kevin grew angry.” Now you’re talking, but you should show his anger. Ex: “…the heat of Kevin’s grew in his chest and rose to the back of his eyeballs like quick silver in a sun-baked thermometer.”

Nice work.

smokinbrokin avatar General Friend

July 06, 2008

smokinbrokin

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smokinbrokin reviewed Version 1 - Read 100% of the Item

And they tell them they’re hero’s,,,
This story almost made me cry…I think it’s a little over dramatic, it needs some chill added..

Fastboyent avatar General Stranger

August 19, 2006

Fastboyent

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Fastboyent reviewed Version 1 - Read 100%% of the Item

it is good, but makes sure that your paragraphs are atleast five sent. long and describe their area a little more, where they are.  You said that you have just been through this, so use your memory of what it looked like and paint a better picture for us so we can experience the same as what the character is, and ultimatly you.

nageena avatar General Stranger

August 19, 2006

nageena

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nageena reviewed Version 1 - Read 100%% of the Item

Love the beginning line.. It’s definately something a lot of people will relate to lol.
Good use of punctuation, grammer and you’re extensive range of vocab is evident here.
Like the story and I think you have something good here so don’t be discouraged by any bad reviews you may have had just make sure that you keep writing ok.
Keep up the good work xx

Deleted User avatar

June 01, 2006

Deleted User

Review of Version 1 - Read 100%% of the Item

“Kevin screamed and threw the sand at the setting sun—in the direction of the Iraqi Unit Jeffrey had been chasing.” This is great imagery.
Because of the subject, the story grabs the reader, but the mechanics of the story telling need to be worked out. I never felt Kevin’s pain and anger, these are important emotions for the reader to feel, if this story is going to have a lasting impact.

papawayne avatar General Stranger

June 01, 2006

papawayne

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papawayne reviewed Version 1 - Read 100%% of the Item

You asked in your review notes if you portrayed his pain and suffering believably. Honestly, as someone who did two tours in Vietnam and saw more than my share of this sort of thing…no, you did not.

I get the impression from your writing that you are female. Forgive me if that’s wrong, but your characterization of his reaction to his friend’s death has a decidedly female slant. This is most evident in his thoughts.

My head . . . it feels so full. . . I wish I could reach in and pull these memories out of my mind!
He made us laugh . . . so full of love!  Oh god the pain he went through, dying alone . . . it’s not fair . . . it’s not fair . . .
Jeff’s mother will receive a flag-draped coffin, not a warm bear hug.  My god, she’ll be devastated by the news!
his mother, god his mother . . . it’s my fault!
I’ll scatter their pieces to the wind!

These aren’t male thoughts. Again, forgive me if that sounds sexist, but men just don’t think like that.

His overall physical reaction is good…the anger, the feelings of guilt, not wanting to leave his friend’s body behind, wanting to kill every M/F in sight…all very appropriate.

I just read through this piece again, skipping over his internal dialogue, and I have to say it reads much better and more believable without his thoughts. My suggestion would be to keep his internal dialogue to a minimum, and focused on his anger towards the Iraqi’s. Any thoughts about his friend’s mother should be along the lines of how he’s going to bring himself to tell her that her son is dead.

You also in several places have his comrades reacting to his thoughts:

Don’t leave him!  He’s still one of my men! (in italics)

“Don’t worry, they’re bringing him with us,” Bobby said quietly.

You have to be careful not to do that.

Overall, this piece is written fairly well. I think it could use a little more detail…sights, sounds, smells…that sort of thing. It will take some work to shape it into a ten—but you can do it.
~Papawayne

loganrapp avatar General Stranger

June 01, 2006

loganrapp

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loganrapp reviewed Version 1 - Read 100%% of the Item

First things first: The rampant use of italics has to stop. This is a cop-out that many people use when they want to cut corners and just tell the reader what the character is thinking, instead of using the character’s actions to imply it.

If you do feel the need to continue with having us in the character’s head, then you need to switch to first person. Right now, you’re presenting it as third person and trying to interject first person attributes into it – and it will always appear muddled and forced.

Also, if this is meant to be a novel, the dialogue needs to be toned back in frequency. Right now it’s almost reading like a script, and there’s not nearly enough description of the action to give the reader a clear enough view of what’s going on. The dialogue appears to be trying to fill in the gaps of what you’re leaving behind in the narrative, and it doesn’t feel right.

As for the story itself – having soldiers cry within the first minute of reading is cliched and tired. It appears melodramatic, as we haven’t head nearly enough background to sympathize with him. That requires a lot of time and emotional investment, and we simply don’t have that.

A lot of the characters’ language is forced. “I”ll scatter their pieces to the wind!”—This is an average soldier, correct? Let’s try to get them to speak and think like one – or provide some background to where we could realistically look at it and believe he would use such talk.

Finally – “fuckin’” – don’t use apostrophes to try to distinguish dialects. Just use the word correctly. Slang is not apostrophe usage; it’s word choice, it’s both what’s said and not said.

John_Ludwig avatar General Stranger

June 01, 2006

John_Ludwig

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John_Ludwig reviewed Version 1 - Read 100%% of the Item

I liked it fair enough. Although I didn’t feel a connection with the charactures. Having introductions instead of out-of-nowhere appearences would draw out your emotions further, when dramatic occurances arise. Seeing as how the story is heartfelt as well as being war-based that would have helped. At first I thought Kevin was a bit over the top by stating that “it should have been me on that hill”, but I see that he feels he has nothing left to live for. That evens it out a bit. Also, maybe it shoul’ve been Casper that pressed the detonator.

Potk avatar General Stranger

June 01, 2006

Potk

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Potk reviewed Version 1 - Read 100%% of the Item

Gruesome ending—gave me the chills.  Well done.
Good action most of the way through.  Watch the use adverbs like’sadly’ and ‘nervously’. They take away from the power of the action. Short sentences heighten drama.
Couple of minor nitpicks: try just goggles, or wearing his goggles. No ‘on’
A lot of ‘hills’ close together when he first spots Jeff.  How can he look up to the top of the hill from the crest?
As far as Kevin’s pain, the crying and sobbing went on too long for my taste.  it made him seem weak.  I  liked the emotion he showed when he became angry.  
You gave a sense of the place and the men.  It’s a very tense piece of writing.

KimRoach avatar General Stranger

May 31, 2006

KimRoach

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KimRoach reviewed Version 1 - Read 100%% of the Item

I have read other segments of this peice and all have been excelent.  You ask if his thoughts and emotions are beleivable and I would have to say they are.  However, being that I have read the other peices it seems a little out of character.  He is usualy puts on such a strong front for his men and here his men seem to be taking care of him, rather than the other way around.

How you might inprove on this.  He is obviously having a tough time with what is going on with his girl leaving him and his freind dying.  The stages of greif are as followed and maybe you can incorporate some of them into this chapter.  Denial is the first stage.  I don’t see much in the way of denial from him at all.  Next comes anger, which you show well in this peice.  I am pretty sure one of the parts I read is suppose to come after this.  Kevin is still pretty angry at that point where they kill everyone except for one guard, so I am guessing you don’t want to go through the anger stage.  Just to let you know the other stages of grief they are.  Bargaining, depression and acceptance.

I hope this was helpful.

Kim

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Tempejack

Age: 33
Loc: Tempe, AZ
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Last Login: July 08
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