Wednesday 14 December 2011

View Point Writing Exercise for Uni

(Note: This is a sort of short story/monologue I originally did for my creative writing class. It was supposed to be 10 sentences on one character's view of another, though I have gone over that in this version. The characters are actually from one of the novels I am planning and normally I wouldn't show anything from those yet but this one doesn't give away much about the story so it's not really a problem. Anyway, enjoy!)

He never makes eye contact unless he’s angry, that’s one of the first things I noticed about him. His steel blue eyes are always so cold and lifeless, without the spark of light that symbolises true happiness and hope for this world. He won’t admit that in many ways we are so similar. We’re both killers, though he believes his work is justified. He spends too much time on the computer, he says it’s for work but I don’t know about that, I think it’s just so that he doesn’t have to communicate with me. It’s strange that for the first time I’ve found someone I actually care to communicate with, and not because of our origins but simply because he interests me so very much. He’s unusual, not someone you would expect to be a member of the police force, though I’m certain he’s broken the law as many times as he’s solved a case. Even so, he’s a powerful man, I’ve seen him in the training area, the way he destroys every target without ever once being hit. That power still holds itself away from the fight, in the way he walks, in the way he talks, almost everything about him... is an attempt to show dominance. Perhaps I’m the only one who sees that. I sometimes wonder if he knows what he has, family and friends and a life and everything I ever wanted and he seems to think that it all comes so easily now, like he’s forgotten. I remember what he said to me that cold night, about the way he came to decide he had to be better than all the others and he seems to feel like he’s accomplished that, but he would be wrong; as long as blood stains all our hands and the nights are filled with these terrors then no one can be better than anyone, and anyone would be better off dead.

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