Ebook and Print - Self published - Novella
TBR Reviewer: B.H (Brutally Honest)
This is the story of Adiran's last night alive and the impact he had on those he left behind.
The very beginning doesn’t pull me in. We’re thrown into the middle of a diary entry by a female that simple rambles. Already the pace is concerning me. Very slow moving. I’d say skip the ‘diary entry’.
The story is weighed down. There’s a lot of trailing on one subject that simply hinders the story. I feel like I’m reading a male teenagers journal, not a good thing.
The grammar wasn’t bad, some parts reverted to present tense instead of past which can be a jolt. I do have to admit his writing style does show promise. Maybe future writings by Mr. Williams will be on my TBR pile if he changes his plot. I think he needs to stick with stories that will engage the reader more.
Excerpt of 'Spoon-Fed Addiction'
Having witnessed her quick degradation of health transform her into the dried sack of wrinkled leathery skin she’d become should’ve been my wake up call. However, the reality is that back then, even on the eve of her disappearance into the sewers of the city, I cared very little for her or her cryptic messages. She awarded me that token of wisdom six months before her inevitable death and I’d focused instead on the unfairness of fate as she forced me to ponder where in fuck I was supposed to live and still be able to finish high school alongside my friends.
That had been the shittiest year of my life, or so I thought until tonight.
Oh, today was just another day. Nothing too exciting happened. I guess if it weren’t for the few friends I had, I would’ve ended my life a long time ago.
I am alone now, but that’s okay. I have found peace within myself. It’s so silent yet so loud, like a noise in the night. I sense it as if I could hear it but it fades away when I reach out for it.
What went on inside my head? I just don’t know anymore.
Everything I’ve ever done has been so contradictory to what I need it hurts just thinking about it. I think it’s because I had problems. Everyone has problems—I know this—everything from forgetting to feed the dog to forgetting the bills are past due. Those are problems, don’t get me wrong, but when someone enters a certain state of mind, it all becomes obsolete.
I can see my epitaph now, Here lies Adiran “The Puppet” Battlefield. 20 years of wasted space and soiled dreams. May he lie crisply in Hell.
Yes, it is all because of the fear and acceptance of death. There is a rush of feelings that flood you when you know you are about to die; somewhat similar to knowing you are about to get laid. I guess they call that anticipation.
My love lay in bed, dressed only with lilac satin panties, covering herself with a feather blanket just to tease me. She waited for my loving embrace, anxious to open her delicious gates to Hell for me to enter.
How I wish I could now spread wings and fly. I wish even harder that when look beside me, I’ll see her there, the love of my life. I’ll see her flying graciously, so swift, so free! Then I’ll fall back to land on her nest of warmth and simply watch her in childish awe. In my faithless world, she’d been my Goddess. In the real world, she was dead.
My dead angel, Veronica; her death was my fault. I had convinced myself she had wings. I thought she could fly, so I pushed her over a building’s edge and she flew straight to the ground. My poor angel flew ten stories to kiss the pavement down below.