Peer Review by SomeFormOfWriting (United States)

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The Seven of Us

By: Serendipity

PROMPT: Zoom Out

As I trudge down the melancholy street, the dwindling sound of a siren screeching with the unstoppable will to capture young, thrilled thieves and the commotion of sundry voices in a somewhat legato harmony fill the stifling night air. I feel like a wounded soldier desperately and scarcely making the trip back to their home. That courageous soldier may have made it back to a medical tent, with tender, caring hands waiting to address their wounds, but I feel a prickle of sadness when I realise that I won't have the same outcome as that soldier. I finally reach the ramshackle elevator, the portal to my despair. The number 27 illuminates as I press it with some force so it operates properly, and the elevator creaks with each diminutive move that is made. Finally, the rusted metal doors open with trouble and I slump into my dilapidated chair to enter my intense relaxation period, which on average lasts for about thirty minutes if fate decides to give me a day off. I throw my scarf onto the floor of my apartment - well, more like a room that was abandon by an unlucky punter years ago, barely a vestige of joy and interaction left. As I close my eyes to enter relaxation mode, an utterly abhorrent, searing pain courses through my chest at such a force that it finally makes me wince in pain. I grab out a tiny case of first aid equipment to ease the pain. A bandage for the gash on my arm, I tie my leg to a splint in the mere hope of it merging back into one piece again instead of two smaller bones, and some cream on my ribcage which flaunts the incredible ability to 'ease all pains in an instant!' Just as I am to pack away the kit for another misfortunate day in my life, I see the glint of a crumpled piece of paper, containing a smiling face. I carefully take it out to avoid it disintegrating in my bare palms and see that there are many more faces beaming with glee in a scene of jubilation. I somehow recognise a young face that resembles my own, but without lines of hurt and worry etched into it from years of my job, forcing me to make many enemies and run for my life quite literally. Next to that jolly, carefree face is another, quite beautiful girl the same age as me. Her golden honey hair was always never too curly but never flat and lifeless from the adventures we had. Oh, and next to her was someone else. His cheeky grin was never detached from his face, always looking for another victim of a prank or joke which only made sense in his mind. In the right corner were two faces who made the perfect duo. Never did they do their tasks alone, oh no, with him always insisting on staying with her to face whatever arduous tasks life threw at them! The penultimate face was one of thought, always with blueprints of ingenious inventions just waiting to be built with his tough, hardworking hands and spirit. Only he could invent such items of splendour, and do so without ever breaking a sweat. Finally, there was the gorgeous young face of my friend who was always shy, but hid the incredible ability of true common sense and was a walking encyclopaedia. She was not one to always barge into conversations with the correct facts about anything, but she naturally would reveal her knowledge in time, like a crystal fuchsia rose blossoming in the sweetest of springs that the world ever brought about. This photo that we all stood in was taken at a local park from where we all originated. With our state of euphoria we thought we were truly invincible, and no one could lay a finger on our dynamic troupe. Sadly, I realise that I am not aware of either one of these great souls names, but what really matters is the time spent with them, not a simple label to call them by. Where all of them are now is also a peculiar mystery as such fantastic pals usually don't disappear in an instant. I am afraid to admit that mine have, and I have the feeling that I shall never see their glowing faces again, despite the fact we went our separate ways only a few years ago. But, oh, how much can change in the tight timeframe of three years. With loving regards for all seven of us, I place the photo of us perfectly frozen still in a perfect time back in my medical kit and put my mind at ease knowing that I have got well wishes from all the other six, then sit in my dilapidated chair and close my eyes, not knowing or particularly caring if it was the last time I'd do so...

Peer Review

"She was not one to always barge into conversations with the correct facts about anything, but she naturally would reveal her knowledge in time, like a crystal fuchsia rose blossoming in the sweetest of springs that the world ever brought about."

That metaphor you used is so incredibly beautiful. <3

The protagonist describes a better time: what them and their friends were all likes in the past, and shows how the protagonist feels about all of them now.

Reviewer Comments

Your extensive vocabulary is incredible, as always (although, maybe vary it in some places I pointed out).

This was a review of the MyFormOfWriting Competition way back when, sorry it took me so long to review!