Born to Die opening *Critique?*
Posted: June 14th, 2010, 8:25 pm
Can't wait for your guys' critique. If you are also interested I am searching for a second beta for this novel. I have one awesome one but another pair of eyes never hurts. So here goes...I hope the formatting isn't screwed.
Chapter 1
I concentrate as hard as I can, but I know I will never do what my father wants; I will never lift the orb. I look into my father's desperate brown eyes. Beads of sweat have formed on his brow and his face is flushed.
"I am a yeeod," I say. "I'm so sorry, father."
Grasping my shoulders, he pulls me closer. I want to look away from his intense stare, but I'm afraid it would only confirm my guilt. “Listen to me Nayla. You are not a Yeeod don't say that, never say that. No child of mine will be taken, branded and worked to death at the concentration camps.”
Breathing hard, I look back at the gold orb. I stare at it, willing for it to move, hoping for at least the softest wisp of wind from the open window to help, but nothing happens for a long few minutes. I turn to my father; he is shaking his head, his jaw clenched and his eyes racing.
“Nayla, you must be just nervous. One last time, let me show you.” His voice is hoarse and he lifts his trembling hands and stares hard at the orb.
It lifts easily as if it is meant to fly and stays floating in the air. The orb falls down onto the table and rolls off when a knock is heard on our front door. They are here for me.
“Hide,” he hisses, but I don’t move a muscle.
Goosebumps rise on my bare arms and my wet limp hair slaps against my back like a stone mop, I fear them more than my father fears for me. "No," I say. "I have to face my fears, you taught me that."
“Please, Nayla, they will brand you and kill you, please…” he begs. But if I hide they will only kill him and I wouldn’t be able to live with myself. I have to face them.
“Father,” I take his hands and hold them like I did when I was a little girl. They are cold and trembling. So are mine. “Don’t be scared for me. I will stay strong. Find mother for me. Only remember I love you.” My voice is shaking like never before and is softer than a whisper. I feel cold tingles all over me. This is the last time I will see him. The knocking on the door gets more impatient and a voice calls in.
“Mr. Ebriony, open the door or I will have to open it by force.” The voice is slow, with a lingering accent and I recognize it to be one of the head councilor’s of the Majority.
Chapter 1
I concentrate as hard as I can, but I know I will never do what my father wants; I will never lift the orb. I look into my father's desperate brown eyes. Beads of sweat have formed on his brow and his face is flushed.
"I am a yeeod," I say. "I'm so sorry, father."
Grasping my shoulders, he pulls me closer. I want to look away from his intense stare, but I'm afraid it would only confirm my guilt. “Listen to me Nayla. You are not a Yeeod don't say that, never say that. No child of mine will be taken, branded and worked to death at the concentration camps.”
Breathing hard, I look back at the gold orb. I stare at it, willing for it to move, hoping for at least the softest wisp of wind from the open window to help, but nothing happens for a long few minutes. I turn to my father; he is shaking his head, his jaw clenched and his eyes racing.
“Nayla, you must be just nervous. One last time, let me show you.” His voice is hoarse and he lifts his trembling hands and stares hard at the orb.
It lifts easily as if it is meant to fly and stays floating in the air. The orb falls down onto the table and rolls off when a knock is heard on our front door. They are here for me.
“Hide,” he hisses, but I don’t move a muscle.
Goosebumps rise on my bare arms and my wet limp hair slaps against my back like a stone mop, I fear them more than my father fears for me. "No," I say. "I have to face my fears, you taught me that."
“Please, Nayla, they will brand you and kill you, please…” he begs. But if I hide they will only kill him and I wouldn’t be able to live with myself. I have to face them.
“Father,” I take his hands and hold them like I did when I was a little girl. They are cold and trembling. So are mine. “Don’t be scared for me. I will stay strong. Find mother for me. Only remember I love you.” My voice is shaking like never before and is softer than a whisper. I feel cold tingles all over me. This is the last time I will see him. The knocking on the door gets more impatient and a voice calls in.
“Mr. Ebriony, open the door or I will have to open it by force.” The voice is slow, with a lingering accent and I recognize it to be one of the head councilor’s of the Majority.