An Angel’s Kiss
I can scarcely recall the deafening thunder of the grenade that was cast bewteen us that night, its fiery heat, or its reflection in the deep wells of Patrick’s eyes as it cut a wall of burning air between us, rocketing stones, shards of glass, and shrapnel in all directions like bullets. Had I not obtained the fortune to be tripped by a rock, causing me to fall down a steep escarpment only seconds before, I would have faced its cloud of fire dead on. Instead, the Lord chose Patrick to experience that malignant fate. As I shielded my head from a shower of ramparts, I watched through watery eyes and blurred vision as Patrick fell to the ground, his head slamming into a small boulder and his eyes never leaving the bright planet he had only moments ago been observing. When the dust settled enough that I could make out his limp figure amongst the rubble, I lifted myself onto my feet and limped over to wear he lay, my right leg bleeding rather badly.
I collapsed next to him, the stones and rubble clunking about me, and, as anyone would do in such a situation, grabbed hold of him and began repeatedly saying his name, gasping for air. His gaze remained fixed on Venus, the brightest object in the sky that night, for the moon was nowhere to be found, his chest rising and falling rapidly, the bottom half of his body disseminated across the street in numerous pieces. I kept my gaze on his filthy, handsome face, his small nose, and his chapped lips. I almost wanted to laugh, because aside from the hemorrhage that now flowed from his left temple, he looked exactly as he had in our history class only a few weeks before; the same features, the gray eyes, the matted brown hair, except now he looked helpless, paltry, and the deep pallor of his face gave him a ghostly cantenance.
“David,” he whispered in a voice so raspy I could barely make out my own name. “David, I… I want you to tell my momma that I’m sorry I yelled at her before I left. I love her and I didn’t mean what I said to her, 'bout her caring too much.”
Hot, stinging tears that left clean streaks on my dirty cheeks escaped from my eyes, and my breaths were quick gasps as I replied, “I will, Pat, you know I will. Your momma knows you love her, nothin’ll change that, no matter what, ya hear? You’re gonna be all right.”
“All right?” Patrick upbraided, his eyes finally moving to me. “Look at me. I’m done. I’m spending my last few seconds in this life with you. I don’t want you lying to me.”
“I didn't mean now,” I breathed, holding his chest, my hands being stained by his blood. "I meant... soon."
“Cremate me, Dave,” he gasped after a long pause. “Let the fire finish its work.”
I nodded, knowing full well that he was going to be dumped into a ditch with a hundred other corpses.
“Do you think,” he began, his eyes returning to Venus, “Do you think… do you believe in God, Dave?”
“’Course I do,” I answered.
I can scarcely recall the deafening thunder of the grenade that was cast bewteen us that night, its fiery heat, or its reflection in the deep wells of Patrick’s eyes as it cut a wall of burning air between us, rocketing stones, shards of glass, and shrapnel in all directions like bullets. Had I not obtained the fortune to be tripped by a rock, causing me to fall down a steep escarpment only seconds before, I would have faced its cloud of fire dead on. Instead, the Lord chose Patrick to experience that malignant fate. As I shielded my head from a shower of ramparts, I watched through watery eyes and blurred vision as Patrick fell to the ground, his head slamming into a small boulder and his eyes never leaving the bright planet he had only moments ago been observing. When the dust settled enough that I could make out his limp figure amongst the rubble, I lifted myself onto my feet and limped over to wear he lay, my right leg bleeding rather badly.
I collapsed next to him, the stones and rubble clunking about me, and, as anyone would do in such a situation, grabbed hold of him and began repeatedly saying his name, gasping for air. His gaze remained fixed on Venus, the brightest object in the sky that night, for the moon was nowhere to be found, his chest rising and falling rapidly, the bottom half of his body disseminated across the street in numerous pieces. I kept my gaze on his filthy, handsome face, his small nose, and his chapped lips. I almost wanted to laugh, because aside from the hemorrhage that now flowed from his left temple, he looked exactly as he had in our history class only a few weeks before; the same features, the gray eyes, the matted brown hair, except now he looked helpless, paltry, and the deep pallor of his face gave him a ghostly cantenance.
“David,” he whispered in a voice so raspy I could barely make out my own name. “David, I… I want you to tell my momma that I’m sorry I yelled at her before I left. I love her and I didn’t mean what I said to her, 'bout her caring too much.”
Hot, stinging tears that left clean streaks on my dirty cheeks escaped from my eyes, and my breaths were quick gasps as I replied, “I will, Pat, you know I will. Your momma knows you love her, nothin’ll change that, no matter what, ya hear? You’re gonna be all right.”
“All right?” Patrick upbraided, his eyes finally moving to me. “Look at me. I’m done. I’m spending my last few seconds in this life with you. I don’t want you lying to me.”
“I didn't mean now,” I breathed, holding his chest, my hands being stained by his blood. "I meant... soon."
“Cremate me, Dave,” he gasped after a long pause. “Let the fire finish its work.”
I nodded, knowing full well that he was going to be dumped into a ditch with a hundred other corpses.
“Do you think,” he began, his eyes returning to Venus, “Do you think… do you believe in God, Dave?”
“’Course I do,” I answered.
“Do you think he’s gotta place for me in Heaven, all nice and happy?”
“I know he does, Pat, I know it,” I answered, sobbing. “You’ll be whole, and comfortable, and satisfied. And your daddy’ll be there waiting for ya.”
“I… wish I wasn’t going there, Dave,” he cried, his voice getting louder as tears washed his face as well. It was as if they were purifying him, as if he were already crossing into the light of the Lord. His eyes appeared brighter than usual, as if the fire of the grenade was still burning away. “I don’t wanna go yet. I don’t want it to be my time. I never got to see the ocean. I never told a woman I loved her. Oh Dave, if I could do it all again, right now, I’d take back every bad thing I said to my mamma. Oh mamma, don’t cry for me. Don’t weep, don’t mourn. Be happy that I’m with my daddy again. We’ll go fishin’, just like we always did on the weekends when I wasn’t in school. We’ll toss the ball like he always wanted to do, even though I never wanted to. Oh, it was all he wanted, I just didn’t wanna. I’m sorry Daddy, I’m sorry…”
He trailed off, Venus glowing in his pupils, his face shining from a combination of tears and his own blood. His cheeks seemed so much thinner than normal, so gaunt and hollow, and his chest continued to undulate like a swift sea.
Finally, he looked at me again. “Oh, Davey,” he gasped. “Love your momma, respect your daddy, and tell a woman you love her. See the ocean for me, go there with her some day, and think of me.”
I nodded, sobbing harder than ever, my hands shining red from his blood.
He looked back at Venus for a moment, and then he grabbed hold of my chest and pulled me so close to him that I could see each hair that made up his eyebrows. “Listen to the wind… and hear every angel’s whisper… and..." He stared off into space for a moment, and then looked back at me for a final time. "...and stand in the rain… so that I can make each raindrop… an angel’s kiss.” For a moment, it was as if I saw a flash in his pupils, and then his grip loosened from my shirt, he eyes went back to Venus, and he became still.
For a long time, I laid there with him, promising to him and to myself that I would fulfill his wishes, tacitly and honestly. I looked up at Venus just as he had done, trying to remember the little anecdote he’d been telling me just before the flash of the explosive. I couldn’t even begin to recall what it was about.
Thunder rumbled overhead, and black clouds slowly covered the bright planet above me. Raindrops began to pelt my face, cleaning my cheeks completely, and washing my leg so that the blood was gone, revealing a very minute cut just below my knee, and alleviating the pain. I sat there for as long a time as I’ve sat anywhere, the gunfire, explosives, and screams echoing in the distance until they didn’t exist anymore, and I let my body soak in the rain, each drop, I knew, an angel’s kiss.
10 comments:
I. The conflict of the story was definatly that Patrick was dying and didn't want to die and that David is being asked by Patrick to do all these things that Patrick never got a chance to do. Patrick's conflict is an external conflict because he was blown up by a gernade he isn't struggling with himself. Although it could be thought of an internal conflict because he is struggling with himself to stay alive. David's conflict is an internal conflict because he is struggling to deal with his friends untimely death and having to do all these things for his friend. Patrick finally died and David cried and let the rain that fell from the sky wash away the pain as well as promised to do everything that Patrick asked him to. It was perfectly dramatic because a kid gets blown up and is telling his last wishes to a friend I don't know what's more dramatic than that.
II. The protagonist definitly changes over the course of the story. Both of them do, Patrick starts out alive and ends up dead and David starts out a happy go lucky kid fighting in a war with his friend and ends up all alone on a battlefield. Patrick dying is the development for both characters. The death of Patrick is the main conflict. The end would probably be far happier if Patrick hadn't died and was able to do everything he wanted to by himself.
III. My favorite part of the story was when Patrick was telling David everything he wanted David to do to him. This was in the falling actuion.'“David,” he whispered in a voice so raspy I could barely make out my own name.' I liked how dramatic you made the one word 'David'.
IV. The best quality is the whole dramatic poor kid dying quality. I have to love a tragic death. It's just my twisted mind speaking to me. :) Patrick dying makes it all seem so tragic and having his father already dead makes it even worse. Leaving a widowed mother alone and having David be the one to go tell her that her child, who she didn't want to go to war in teh first place, had died in it would be horrible.
V. I beleive the theme is you don't know what you have until it's gone. He starts by having the gernade go off and the last words and the grusome description of the poor kids body which eventually leads to his death. All of the last wishes and talking about how he never did things and he wished he had but now didn't have a chance made the theme obviuse.
VI. One or two of your paragraphs aren't double spaced between them, other than that its pure perfection.
The conflict was that his friend is dying from a bomb and they both are really sad because they wouldn’t ever see them every again. It was external. It was very good and he took about 1,000 words to describe a moment which was really in detail.
The protagonist changes by realizing that he should enjoy life while he still can. I bet if the guy that was dying had a second chance, his life would be very different.
My favorite part of the story was at the resolution when he felt every raindrop as an Angel’s kiss. “I sat there for a long a time as I’ve sat anywhere, the gunfire, explosives, and screams echoing in the distance until they didn’t exist anymore, and I let my body soak in the rain, each drop, I knew, an angel’s kiss.”
I think it’s best quality is his vocabulary and describing things like people and what the dying person looked like. I think the theme is friends always stick to your side no matter what happens. I like this theme a lot. There is not much you need to revise because it’s really good and you’re a great writer. The only thing I guess would be if you wanted the guy to live so it wouldn’t be so sad but then you wouldn’t have the quote that I liked.
The conflict in this story was that Patrick was dying and he didn't want to die because there were things he wanted to do. This was an external conflict. It wasn't really resolved except t say that David was going to full fill Patrick's wishes. The story couldn't have been more dramatic.
The protagonist changes over time by learning to except life and live everyday like it was your last. If the character didn't change it would mean that he would have wanted to die and that would change the whole story.
My favorite part was the part when patrick told david what he wanted him to do for him because you used good describing words. “'David,' he whispered in a voice so raspy I could barely make out my own name."
The best quality would be description. You have a lot of it but you need all of it. It is also in all of the right places.
The story's theme is live life to its fullest. I think you do a good job of getting the theme across. It is very apparent.
I think you should focus on fixing your puncuation but that is the only thing i think you need to fix. Even then it is only a little bit in certain spots.
1. The conflict was that patrick was dying and it is an external conflict. Davids conflict is internal because his best friend is dying, and who really wants to deal with that? it was resolved by patrick dying.
2Patrick changes over time because, well, he dies. The end would be completely different if patrick didnt die because, that was the ending.
3 my favorite part of the story is when he died, because it reminded me of mythbusters when they did the episode with grenades. For a moment, it was as if I saw a flash in his pupils, and then his grip loosened from my shirt, he eyes went back to Venus, and he became still.
i picked that line because it was when he died and thats an important part of the story.
4. The best quality was the descriptivness and they dialouge. they really stuck out to me as i was reading the story.
5. I agree with michaela that the theme is you dont know what you have til its gone because when patrick died david got all sad and stuff.
6. honestly, there wasnt one problem inn the story, nice job.
1. Cast: v. to throw.
The grenade was thrown between the two friends, causing tradegy when it exploded.
2. Escarpment: n. a steep slope.
David had tripped and fallen down a steep slope just before the grenade exploded, saving his life.
3. Malignant: adj. evil or bad.
The fate to die by grenade is truly a horrible one.
4. Rampart: n. bulwark.
The grenade blew a few mounds of earth used for protection into the air, and they fell down onto David.
5. Dessimate: v. to spread far and wide.
The grenade had blown Patrick's lower body all over the street.
6. Hemorrhage: n. heavy bleeding.
Patrick's head slammed into a rock when he fell, and now he is bleeding badly from his temple.
7. Paltry: adj. pitiful small or worthless.
Patrick looks very small and unimpressive in the situation he is in, which is understandable because he is dying.
8. Pallor: n. paleness.
Patrick was on the verge of death, so, as can be expected, his face is rather pale.
9. Cantenance: n. facial expression.
Patrick is very scary looking at the moment because he's about to die, so his face is described as ghostly.
10. Upbraid: v. to scold.
Patrick doesn't any lies involved in the last conversation he has, so he scolds David, saying not to lie to him about being okay.
11. Gaunt: adj. excessively thin or angular.
Patrick seems so thin and weak in his critical state, it's easy to notice.
12. Undulate: v. to rise and fall.
Patrick is hyperventilating as he dies, and his chest is rising and falling rapidly.
13. tacit: n. a silent agreement.
Even in death, David feels as if Patrick knows that he will fulfill his last wishes.
14. Anecdote: n. a short description.
Patrick was telling David something about the bright planet, Venus, in the sky, just before the grenade went off.
15. Alleviate: v. lessen or reduce.
The cool rain washes away the blood on David's leg, "alleviating the pain." This particlar statement doesn't refer to the pain in his leg leaving because of the cool water, but more of the pain of Patrick's death being washed away by the angel's kisses.
Oh my goodness, Kyle. That was amazing.
The conflict was that Patrick was dieing and he hadn't seen the world yet. I was very invested in the conflict and its resolution. David is told to live a full and happy life.
My favorite part of the story was the ending when the rain was falling down on him. "I sat there for as long a time as I’ve sat anywhere, the gunfire, explosives, and screams echoing in the distance until they didn’t exist anymore, and I let my body soak in the rain, each drop, I knew, an angel’s kiss." This line totally blew me away.
The tale's best quality was everything. The dialogue, the description, the plot, (etc.) were all amazing!
The story's theme is to live your life to the fullest. It is what Patrick is telling David before he dies.
I wouldn't change anything. It was amazingly incrdible.
Short Story Reflection Questions
1. I think the biggest change in my story from my rough draft to now would be all the vocabulary words that I added in. In the orginal copy, there were maybe four, and now there are fifteen. I also fixed a few grammatical errors.
2. The peer editing was definitely the most helpful feedback I got, because I learned, through the people to whom it really mattered, how to make my story the best that it could be, and hopefully, I have achieved somewhere near there. All those comments worked out great with pointing out silly mistakes I made or something they would suggest that I try or change.
3. I would like to hope that my story's strength is making the reader think about the meaning of life, and that they have to live it the fullest because they will never get another shot, and it is the biggest thing you can screw up on or succeed in.
4. Something that I would suggest for the students of 09-10 when they do this assignment is to write the story first, and THEN add in vocabulary words where they would fit. Otherwise, certain parts may seem as if the were written only to add a vocab word, and in reality they are unnecessary to the plot. I found that this happened with a lot of the short stories written by my peers, and I avoided doing that merely though my own laziness, only to find that it is a good technqiue to use.
Nice Job Kyle!!!!
I. The conflict in the story is that Patrick is dying because of a granade explosion and he doesnt want to die. Its an external problem because he is not dealing with it on the inside he is dealing with it on the outside. It is resolved by patrick dying. I think the story was dramatic enough the way it was. i dont really think it could of been more dramatic.
II. The characters do change over the course of the story. Patrick is fighting in the beggining and is breathing and alive and then dies, his friend is also fighting but then ends up losing his best friend and being alone in the war. This would of made the story very boring if this stuff didnt happen. without the characters changing over time, the story wouldnt be half as good as it is now.
III. My favorite part of the story is when David was talking to his friend and saying the stuff he wants him to do. "“David,” he whispered in a voice so raspy I could barely make out my own name. “David, I… I want you to tell my momma that I’m sorry I yelled at her before I left. I love her and I didn’t mean what I said to her, 'bout her caring too much.” This was my favorite line because it was just so well written i LOVED IT!
IV. I think the best quality was description. MAN! you did such a god job describing things. your story had so much feeling it was amazing!
V. The theme of the story is you dont know what you have until its gone. It starts with him in the war and the grenade goes off and then he starts thinking about all the things he wishes he could take back and then he dies and he cant change anything he did.
VI.i dont have anything you need to revise on. nothing needs to be changed. its perfect =)
Author's Notes
1. The main "point" of this story that I'm trying to get across here is how awful war is, but also that it isn't always in one's own best interest to mourn over the death of a loved one, but rather to learn the lesson that life is short and to know that they are always in your heart.
2. The hardest part to write in this story was probably the part about the angel's kisses because I wanted to write something that would really hit home for readers, and that phrase is what I finally decided on.
3. Something that I originally needed to fix about my story was that I only had about four vocabulary words total throughout the story, but I fixed that now.
4. Any suggestions from my peers would be great, as well as criticism and feedback. Is it too short, perhaps? Or too long?
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