[CryCandice]

I guess it was the dense foliage overhead, the fresh air, and the thick branches that cover every inch of free space that freed my mind. The forest claustrophobia was so much more liberating than any open space I could imagine.

If I could, I’d lay here all day and never go home. But my father would be hysterical and would call some sort of search parties. They'd eventually find this place and he'd probably have me banned from it. Even as impossible as it sounds, my father would get it done.

I don’t call him dad, just Bill. Father or dad, is just a little too unsuited for him. He’s more of my landlord who doesn’t ask for rent.

We don’t talk. Well, I don’t talk. Everything he says, or tries to say, comes out wrong and makes me feel unimportant, beneath him. Like he’s only taking care of me because he feels as if it’s some sort of duty, a requirement. Although I know it's an obligation, I'm about as ecstatic about it as he is.

Just then, a canary, from the looks of it, perched on a branch a few feet away. Five more birds followed suit. I'd never seen so many birds get so close to a human.

They made me think, though, how lucky they are. They could fly anywhere they wanted; away, most importantly. Away would be nice. You could fly away from your problems, leaving them behind you; away from the lies people tell you, away from the authority some people think that they possess over everyone else.

Flying is so much better than walking or running, too. You can move around people, above, below, to the side. You don’t have to wait on a busy street corner, you just fly above the traffic. Much better. If only flying got rid of the mental, as well as the physical.

You can’t escape ideas. Once they’re there, they embed themselves into your brain. I have so many ideas stuck in my head that I wish I could just soar away from. No, flying doesn’t work. I’d have to forget and I can’t just forget something by force, because that requires thinking about forgetting it, which only makes me think about it more.

No, it’s impossible to forget the things you’d like to forget most. It’s like an obsessive ex-girlfriend that spends all of her time sending you flowers and love notes because she can’t seem to realize that it’s over. But is it over? Is anything ever over?

Just then, the bright yellow bird flew off and I woke up from my trance. As I let the scenery, the pine smell, and the hard sticks underneath me bombard my senses, I watched the rest of the birds flutter away after the canary. Hmm, one bird flies away and everything else leaves with it. . . Familiar.

I began to wonder what time it was, but I didn't have a cell phone on me, so I did something difficult. I left the woods.

I tripped over a few branches on the way out, but it still didn’t change the fact that the sun was starting to set and Bill would be home soon, frantic if I wasn’t as well. So I woke my legs up, and made them run some more.

Running is a good thing to do. It keeps me busy enough just thinking about it. Leg, leg, breathe in, leg, leg, breathe out. If only everyday life could keep people that focused. If only life could keep me that focused.

I got home just before Bill and took my sweet time in the shower. I didn’t feel like talking to him today, so I stayed under the water’s continuous current until I was convinced that no more hot water would spring forward. As I stepped out and wrapped a towel around my waist, a quick thump at my door told me that Bill wanted to talk. Oh God, not again, I thought.

“Hey Jack, you in there?” Rhetorical questions agitate me greatly.

“Bill, I’m tired, can I just go to sleep?” No witty insults needed. His life was an insult, he didn’t need me to tell him that.

“That’s fine, I guess. ‘Night.” I could hear him walk down the hallway. From his regular pace, I could tell he set himself up for a let down this time. And I was prepared for a guilt trip and everything. I guess I just got lucky.

After his foot steps died away, I went up to my room. My room is a nice hideaway too, but he can find me easily here. No challenge. I went to bed trying not to think about today, but that never works.

It never, never works. And after about an hour of struggling not to think, and thinking that much more by doing so, my body succumbs and I’m asleep.

[RENA HANDS]

I think…

any open space I could imagine.

You must watch your ‘tenses.’

Possibly…

He’s more of a landlord demanding everything but rent.

Then throw in some of ‘chores’ he asks of you, his son.

Possibly…

How it soars through the air whenever, sitting upon a branch (shaded) wherever it naturally pleases.

I think…

You can swoop over and under between people's legs, flapping arms

…then go into more details.

Maybe mention the warmth of the sun melting away all of your troubles.

I think the sentence about mental/physical, your missing the ending of a thought here…

So what about…

If only flying could get rid of the mental and physical woes/affliction of my body.

Then describe some changes in your body.

If you are ‘asleep,’ then…this sentence seems incomplete.

Describe instead the sounds, echoes that the flutter of the wings make as it takes off in flight. Maybe even the rustling of the branches/leaves as its feet bend and shake the one motionless tree.

You are being too repetitive with your words and ideas/imagery not that you don’t want the reader to ‘see’ what you see, but be Less blatant about it.

Also, some of your sentences incomplete at least to this reader.

I think you mean

…and (wrapped) a towel around my waist, a quick (tap) at my door…

Again, detailing is missed here. What other sounds or thoughts are running through Jack’s head before Bill’s interruption?

Now I must reiterate…you are just stating ‘facts,’ you are not allowing us time to become ‘involved’ with your character. And that is an important part of telling a story.

I suggest also using a Thesaurus to replace much of your duplicating words.

I'll stop here for now...

[CryCandice]

I'm glad that you're giving me insight on the story, I will edit it to add more character to Jack. But some of the edits you've made kind of destroy the message that I'm attempting to get across. The language style isn't Jack's, it sounds more like an adult; Jack is only a sixteen-year-old.
Also, Bill and Jack don't talk. Period. Bill doesn't ask anything from Jack, except maybe to tell him how he feels. Jack sure as hell isn't going to tell him, and he'd be out of that door the moment his father asked him to do any type of chore.

Jack holds contempt towards his father, and only livse with him out of obligation.

[RENA HANDS]

A ‘sixteen’ year old would be more observant of his/her world; the sounds, smells, actions, of the past and the current. A parent ‘wanting’ his/her child to express their emotions…that’s a great complication within itself. Remind me again, why doesn’t he like Bill? A ‘sixteen’ year old who doesn’t do ‘some’ or kind of chore that’s really far fetched. Every teenager has a price. What’s is the ‘message’ that your are ‘attempting to get across.?’ Think about these things and more as you continue to write. a teenager in this world has ‘opportunities’ other than to stay with a dad/parent that he doesn’t like.

[CryCandice]

Originally Posted by RENA HANDS

A ‘sixteen’ year old would be more observant of his/her world; the sounds, smells, actions, of the past and the current. A parent ‘wanting’ his/her child to express their emotions…that’s a great complication within itself. Remind me again, why doesn’t he like Bill? A ‘sixteen’ year old who doesn’t do ‘some’ or kind of chore that’s really far fetched. Every teenager has a price. What’s is the ‘message’ that your are ‘attempting to get across.?’ Think about these things and more as you continue to write. a teenager in this world has ‘opportunities’ other than to stay with a dad/parent that he doesn’t like.

First, it's a boy, so observance isn't a huge part of his life. Bill wants to talk to Jack, but he abandoned Jack as a child, so Jack hates him. There are a lot of things that happened in between the time when Jack lived with his mother and when he lived with his father, but I couldn't tell you the whole of it, because one, I don't even know where this story is going yet, and two, it would ruin it for you.