He woke up suddenly, shaking, sweating. He had gone back. Back to the past. That horrifying, deadly, appalling past. The past he wanted to forget. The past that he couldn’t forget. The past that haunted him. The past that cursed him. The past that was, thankfully, no more.
He looked at the clock. It was half past two in the morning. “What the hell?” he thought. He knew he wouldn’t be able to get back to sleep. Not now that his past had reared its haunting specter. He might as well do something. He’d run it off, like always. This wasn’t the first time he’d woken at two in the morning. And he doubted it’d be his last time.
Five hours later he walked into the office. He was a journalist now, and did reasonably well. He began to approach his editor, who’d pissed him off the day before for refusing to let him pursue a story, but decided that another disagreement would probably get him fired. Well, not probably. Definitely. He was too much of a loose canon. So he went back to his desk and proceeded to begin the story his editor wanted him to pursue. He was an idiot, but that wasn’t a surprise. It seemed that all the people he’d ever worked for were idiots.
He decided to grab a bite before heading home. He pulled into the lot of the nearest fast-food joint, and went inside. He got his food, and went over to a table and had just begun to eat when he heard that hellish voice that had haunted him for years.
“Still eating your way into your grave?”
He closed his eyes. Prayed to god he’d imagined it. He opened his eyes and turned around. He hadn’t. Damn. It was him. Gerald. No last name, just Gerald. The man who’d controlled him. Who’d damned him. The one man he never wanted to see. And he was back. Damn.
“What do you want?”
“Now come on, no asking how I am?”
“No. What do you want?”
“Really, there is no need for hostilities.”
“I want to kill you.”
“If you wanted me dead, I’d be dead. And so would you. And you’re not into suicide.”
“Maybe I should be.”
“You’re not the type.”
“What do you want?”
“You need to come back”
“There is no way in hell I’d come back.”
“One way or another you’re coming back.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Just what I said.”
“No.”
“You don’t want to say no to me.”
“I just did.”
“Fine. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
And with that Gerald got up and left. He shook his head, trying and failing to clear the demons away. He went back to his meal. Yet as he went to his care he had a strange feeling of unease. Something was wrong.
Most of the areas for improvement centered on the style of the story, areas where there could be improvement. Also we discussed parts that seemed to work well, and parts that didn't work as well. They seemed to like the short sentences, but said I may have overdone them, with to much repetition, and looking at it, I'm inclined to agree with them. They also mentioned other areas where there was too much repetition. That seemed to be the main thing I got wrong, that I used to much repetition throughout the story. But, overall, I think my story went pretty well.
