CreationWillL
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- Joined
- Dec 4, 2023
- Messages
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Hi, friends.
I've edited my prologue a bit, and since this is my first story, I'd like advice. Also, tips would be nice.
PS: The prologue still needs to be completely finished.
A short summary of what the story is about.
My LitRPG story focuses on my protagonist learning from his past mistakes and trying to deal with his guilt. He uses this to strive for a better future and sets himself a goal from the beginning, in which he is more or less trapped.
This backstory isn't supposed to be ultra dramatic.
---------------------
Northwest Florida, Junkyard Ryder
A young man with short black hair sat on a chair in front of his desk in a small, cramped office. He wore a black colored uniform with the label "Ryder" on the back, stained with oil. His blue eyes gazed upon the young man in front of him.
"Please, Mason. It's the last time, I promise. They said they'd let me go afterward." Mike begged his best friend for help again, just like he had often done in the last few months.
"You said that last time," Mason replied, annoyed. "Do you really think they'll let you go?"
The summer heat, combined with the ignorance of his best friend, got on Mason's nerves. By now, how many times had he helped Mike out and always had to listen to the same line?
Mike, his best friend since childhood, had a little habit of wanting things he couldn't afford. Mobile phones, computers, motorbikes - things got more and more expensive.
Without money, he had to resort to other means and often borrowed money. At first, he borrowed from family, friends, or acquaintances, but as the items became more expensive, he couldn't do this anymore. In the end, he decided to borrow money from a local money shark, which he worked off over the last few months by doing "certain" jobs.
Since Mason owned a junkyard, Mike often came and asked him for help - after all, he never had to worry about evidence leading back to him.
'Father, mother, what would you do in this situation? Would you try to help?' Mason thought about his parents.
Mason had just turned 25 and had to take over the family junkyard at the age of 22 as a result of an airplane crash that took the lives of his parents. Although they may no longer be around physically, they have always been a great role model for him, so Mason often remembers what they would do in a specific situation.
"You'll get me into the devil's kitchen at some point with your shady deals. How much do you still have to pay?"
"2k. Like I said, this is the last time," Mike responded with a cheerful attitude, obviously wanting to whitewash his situation.
*sigh*
Mason sighed and stroked through his black hair. "Th-"
*knock* *knock*
"Boss, there's a customer." Just as he was about to respond, a knock sounded on the door, and Mason's employee called him.
"Coming!" Mason shouted back, got up, and headed towards the door.
"Apologies, Mike, but that's enough. I can't and won't help you anymore," Mason whispered to him one last time, unaware that this would be their last conversation.
'Sorry Mike, you may never learn if I don't do this now. Constantly helping out can become a two-sided sword - help quickly turns into dependency, and I hope I haven't acted too late here,' Mason thought with a heavy heart before he left the room.
Two Weeks later, Florida, At a Funeral
"... may Mike rest in peace," the Priest finished his speech and prayed one last time before family and friends were able to bid their final farewell.
In a church, a priest stood in front of an altar. In front of him lay a coffin bearing the remains of Mike Millner.
In front of the coffin stood a crowd of people dressed in black suits and dresses - one by one, they uttered their last words to Mike.
After a few minutes, it was finally the turn of a young man dressed in black, his once clear blue eyes no longer visible - as he stood in front of the coffin, his lifeless eyes filled with guilt started on its surface.
The young man was none other than Mason.
'Why? Why didn't I help him like I always did?' One and the same thought kept haunting him for the last week.
Guilt overwhelmed him the entire time since he received the unexpected news of his best friend's death a week ago. Mason never thought that one wrong decision would hit him so hard. If he had known...
Just before his time ran out, he felt a hand on his shoulder.
"I'm sorry, Mason... I know you blame yourself, but that warning shot was necessary. If anyone did wrong, it was us as his parents - we should have stopped him sooner."
The hand he felt on his shoulder came from Mr. Millner, Mike's father.
As he listened to Mr. Millner's voice, his eyes moistened, and tears began to drip. "It wasn't my fault?" Hearing that it wasn't his fault lightened a small weight off his shoulder. The fact that the person who said this was Mike's father helped a lot. When Mr. Millner saw that Mason refused to talk, he just stood quietly and prayed - he, too, lost his son, so he used his last chance and said a couple of last words.
Time passed, and Mike had been buried.
Mason stood in front of his grave and thought about the future. "It looks like I'll have to live for one more person. See you around, my friend," Mason said one last time and headed home.
I've edited my prologue a bit, and since this is my first story, I'd like advice. Also, tips would be nice.
PS: The prologue still needs to be completely finished.
A short summary of what the story is about.
My LitRPG story focuses on my protagonist learning from his past mistakes and trying to deal with his guilt. He uses this to strive for a better future and sets himself a goal from the beginning, in which he is more or less trapped.
This backstory isn't supposed to be ultra dramatic.
---------------------
Northwest Florida, Junkyard Ryder
A young man with short black hair sat on a chair in front of his desk in a small, cramped office. He wore a black colored uniform with the label "Ryder" on the back, stained with oil. His blue eyes gazed upon the young man in front of him.
"Please, Mason. It's the last time, I promise. They said they'd let me go afterward." Mike begged his best friend for help again, just like he had often done in the last few months.
"You said that last time," Mason replied, annoyed. "Do you really think they'll let you go?"
The summer heat, combined with the ignorance of his best friend, got on Mason's nerves. By now, how many times had he helped Mike out and always had to listen to the same line?
Mike, his best friend since childhood, had a little habit of wanting things he couldn't afford. Mobile phones, computers, motorbikes - things got more and more expensive.
Without money, he had to resort to other means and often borrowed money. At first, he borrowed from family, friends, or acquaintances, but as the items became more expensive, he couldn't do this anymore. In the end, he decided to borrow money from a local money shark, which he worked off over the last few months by doing "certain" jobs.
Since Mason owned a junkyard, Mike often came and asked him for help - after all, he never had to worry about evidence leading back to him.
'Father, mother, what would you do in this situation? Would you try to help?' Mason thought about his parents.
Mason had just turned 25 and had to take over the family junkyard at the age of 22 as a result of an airplane crash that took the lives of his parents. Although they may no longer be around physically, they have always been a great role model for him, so Mason often remembers what they would do in a specific situation.
"You'll get me into the devil's kitchen at some point with your shady deals. How much do you still have to pay?"
"2k. Like I said, this is the last time," Mike responded with a cheerful attitude, obviously wanting to whitewash his situation.
*sigh*
Mason sighed and stroked through his black hair. "Th-"
*knock* *knock*
"Boss, there's a customer." Just as he was about to respond, a knock sounded on the door, and Mason's employee called him.
"Coming!" Mason shouted back, got up, and headed towards the door.
"Apologies, Mike, but that's enough. I can't and won't help you anymore," Mason whispered to him one last time, unaware that this would be their last conversation.
'Sorry Mike, you may never learn if I don't do this now. Constantly helping out can become a two-sided sword - help quickly turns into dependency, and I hope I haven't acted too late here,' Mason thought with a heavy heart before he left the room.
Two Weeks later, Florida, At a Funeral
"... may Mike rest in peace," the Priest finished his speech and prayed one last time before family and friends were able to bid their final farewell.
In a church, a priest stood in front of an altar. In front of him lay a coffin bearing the remains of Mike Millner.
In front of the coffin stood a crowd of people dressed in black suits and dresses - one by one, they uttered their last words to Mike.
After a few minutes, it was finally the turn of a young man dressed in black, his once clear blue eyes no longer visible - as he stood in front of the coffin, his lifeless eyes filled with guilt started on its surface.
The young man was none other than Mason.
'Why? Why didn't I help him like I always did?' One and the same thought kept haunting him for the last week.
Guilt overwhelmed him the entire time since he received the unexpected news of his best friend's death a week ago. Mason never thought that one wrong decision would hit him so hard. If he had known...
Just before his time ran out, he felt a hand on his shoulder.
"I'm sorry, Mason... I know you blame yourself, but that warning shot was necessary. If anyone did wrong, it was us as his parents - we should have stopped him sooner."
The hand he felt on his shoulder came from Mr. Millner, Mike's father.
As he listened to Mr. Millner's voice, his eyes moistened, and tears began to drip. "It wasn't my fault?" Hearing that it wasn't his fault lightened a small weight off his shoulder. The fact that the person who said this was Mike's father helped a lot. When Mr. Millner saw that Mason refused to talk, he just stood quietly and prayed - he, too, lost his son, so he used his last chance and said a couple of last words.
Time passed, and Mike had been buried.
Mason stood in front of his grave and thought about the future. "It looks like I'll have to live for one more person. See you around, my friend," Mason said one last time and headed home.
