Feedback needed thanks

happysod

The nine am. to London was about to leave, however the guard saw me come on to the platform and waved for me to hurry, he held the carriage door open for me. 'Not a minute to late young man', he said and blew his whistle. I thanked him as I boarded the train a little out of breath; along the way was a carriage with three occupants. 'This will do nicely', I thought. And said hallo as I entered, I took a seat next to an attractive young woman.
Seated opposite from her were an elderly pair, in their 70's I would guess. So I made myself comfortable and enjoyed the passing scenery. I like travelling by train, must be the detective stories I read.
The elderly pair were too occupied to appreciate the country side however, they seemed to be deep in prayer and the girl was reading a woman's magazine, I could hear her giggling from time to time.


It was a crazy idea of course, but just for a moment I thought of asking her for a date. The elderly couple put a stop to my wishful thinking, they introduced themselves as sister Teresa and father Bob. They were on their way to visit a sick friend. 'Would you both join us, we have more than enough sandwiches with us', they invited. I offered to fetch a pot of tea and when I returned to the compartment something hit me on the head as I entered and I must have passed out. It was a moment or two before I came to and could take my seat again.
While I was still dizzy, the police came into the compartment. One of them said he was chief inspector Sloe. 'May I have your name please?' 'Ted Bundoran', I replied a little groggy, then he went on to say: 'Ted Bundoran, I am arresting you for the murder of sister Teresa and father Bob'. And that was how I ended back in the insane asylum. At court I was tried and found guilty of the murder of both father Bob and sister Teresa.


Three months earlier I was released from the Rockfall asylum. The reason I was committed was my addiction for throwing objects out of windows, however it did not end with materials like household goods, I once tried to throw my landlady out as well, and unfortunately for me, that was how the elderly priest and non met their demise. I protested my innocence, but to no avail, it must have been, the young woman I pleaded. But there was no evidence of anyone else present in the compartment, said Chief inspector Sloe.




Six months afterwards I was summoned to the wardens office. Inspector Sloe was there and he apologized for my wrongful conviction and proceeded on to describe the circumstances to me :
He said the young woman, Kate, became an orphan when her mother deserted her. Being too young at age ten to support her self, she had been delivered to the convent to be educated and cared for by the sisters, however while there, she was subjected to mental and sexual abuse by the sisters as well as the parish priest, who were charged to look after her.




'Did Kate confess', I inquired.
'No, she was caught red-handed on another train by a guard who happened to be passing her compartment and saw her pushing a non out the window, unfortunately it was too late to save the poor woman. And afterwards she confessed to the murders of sister Teresa and father Bob.'
They released me from the asylum the same day ,and I was glad to be back home. I felt sorry for Kate when the judge sent her to the asylum, he considered that prison would not be the best place for her. So I decided I would pay her a visit if the asylum would allow me.
Their comeback was favourable.


A month after, on my way to the asylum by train, I could see heavy clouds approach and the crack of thunder was deafening and then the rain poured out of the heavens. 'I think we shall have a storm before long ', said the man sitting opposite.




At Manchester station a taxi was waiting at the entrance to the railway station. 'Where to sir?' 'Rockfall asylum', I said and we were on our way.

EileenG

There's a vague feeling of Twilight Zone about it, but as a story, it doesn't really hold up.

There's just too much plot, all of it under-developed, for a short story. Agatha Christie has written full length novels with this amount of plot. Obviously, for a novel, you would need real character development.

At the end of the story, I the only thing I know about the main character is that he's a young man called Ted Bundoran. How old is he? Does he work? Live alone or with parents? Drink or smoke? Watch Doctor Who? Support the Dubs? Eat with his fingers or a knife and fork? Listen to Shinedown? What sort of girl does he fancy?

Where did he get on the train? Why was he going to London?

What does Kate look like? How is she dressed?

Were the priest and nun in mufft? How did he know they were praying? Why were they eating sandwiches at 9am? What train gives pots of tea rather than a teabag in a paper cup of hot water?

Who called the police? Did the train stop to let them on? How was the murder discovered?

And very important: how did Kate managed to throw two healthy people out a tiny train window in the length of time it took Ted to collect a cup of tea? Why did they not scream and fight? Where did she go when she did it?

I won't even go into the whole thing about forensic evidence.

pickarooney

The bad punctuation notwithstanding, I liked the pacing and the short, snappy sentences. There's the guts of a good story here but it needs to be fleshed out a lot and the real focus of the piece made more clear. Is this about Ted, Kate or both?

Chronic Rick

well i get the feeling that it's not set in the modern day, but there is far too much plot that isn't properly developed, it feels more like a pitch to be honest.

happysod

The nine am to London was about to leave the platform but the guard saw me and waved for me to hurry.

'Not a minute to late young man', he said, grabbing my bag as I jumped on board. The platform dropped away behind me and my breathless thanks was lost beneath the shriek of the locomotive's steam whistle.

I made my down the narrow companionway, the swaying of the car throwing me off-balance. The two nearest compartments were full but the next one had a vacant seat.

I sat next to an attractive girl, seated opposite were a frail elderly couple.
At the time I felt happy, making myself comfortable as I watched the passing scenery. The elderly couple were too occupied meditating to appreciate the fine views and the girl next to me was reading a woman's magazine, I could hear her giggling from time to time.

After a while I plucked up enough courage to start a conversation with her but the elderly couple soon put a stop to that when one of their bags from the overhead rack fell to the floor. I picked it up and handed it to the woman. After a quick look inside she told her companion that the tea flask had been broken in the fall but the sandwiches were fine.


The man said his name was Father Bob, and his companion Sister Teresa. 'I'm Ted' I said, 'I would never have guessed you were of the clergy Father.' 'Well how could you young man we are both retired now of course, no need to wear the dog collar all the time.'


Sister Teresa picked up the apple the girl had been peeling with a Swiss army penknife when it fell to the floor with a thud. The girl had the look of someone who had seen a ghost. 'Are you ill you poor thing' said Sister Teresa. 'No' the girl said in a strained voice, 'just a little dizzy, I'm afraid I missed breakfast.' 'Kate', she said 'my name is Kate.'

'Well Kate' said Sister Teresa 'I always pack too many sandwiches and Father Bob is always complaining that the ducks are getting too fat on convent food, you can share ours.' Her laughter filling the compartment.

I offered to fetch a pot of tea. Along the way however I came to a standstill as an overweight man had collapsed in the companionway and the conductor along with a few passengers were picking him up off the ground. It took ages to reach the buffet but finally I took my place in the small queue and when it was my turn I ordered a pot of tea and four slices of their delicious apple-tart and made my way back.

When I entered the compartment I slipped on a pool of blood that covered the floor and saw the tortured body’s of the priest and non before I was hit on the head with something hard and I lost consciousness.

When I came to the police was firing questions at me.
One of them said he was Chief Inspector Sloe and wanted to know my name.

'Ted Bundoran' I replied a little groggy.

He arrested me and I was on my way to London in a police car.
At the police station I protested my innocence, but to no avail. 'It must have been the young girl' I pleaded but Chief Inspector Sloe said there was no evidence of anyone else being present in the compartment and charged me.


My parents, I was to find out later in life, were not very sociable people and their fondness for drink and cocaine made my life a living hell. I was their only offspring and they reminded me often enough when they were beating the **** out of me that I was a waste of time and space and I should have been aborted at birth.
I also wished I had never been born, I wasn't allowed to go to school and I rarely saw outside the high-rise flats in Brixton that we called home.

Mum and dad used to bring kittens home after one of their many binges, where they managed to find so many kittens I have no idea. I remember the first time that I became aware of their cruelty:
One night I heard one poor fellow screeching its head off, I was four years of age at the time and I had become very frightened in my room when I heard the loud screeching in the lounge. It became so fierce that I thought my eardrums would burst I got out of bed and ran to the lounge where I saw my father holding the head of a kitten and my mother clasping its hind legs they were pulling and stretching it so much that its head left its body and my father shouted 'Heads I win' and they started laughing.

When they saw me come in they threw the dead kitten and it hit me in the face I can still taste its blood in my mouth and feel its warm blood on my face to this day, then they ripped my clothes off and smeared my body with the kittens blood. Afterwards my father pissed on me while my mother cheered him on.
I became addicted to cocaine at an early age and the bottle of beer I took to bed with me every night was my one and only friend, I called it my teddy beer.
Other times I was forced to eat raw animal flesh that they brought home with them and drink urine from the toilet, this abuse continued until my fourteenth birthday when I threw them to their death from the high-rise flats we called home.

It was just three months earlier, at the age of twenty-four that I had been released from Rockfall Asylum and now I was back having been convicted of the priest and nun's murder.

Six months went by when one day I was summoned to the warden's office and I was greeted by Chief Inspector Sloe. He apologized for my wrongful conviction and proceeded to describe the circumstances to me:

It seems the young woman, Kate, became an orphan when her mother died and being too young at age ten to support herself, she had been delivered to the convent to be educated and cared for by the sisters.
While there, she was subjected to mental and sexual abuse by the sisters who were charged to look after her and the parish priest raped her on his weekly visits.

He went on to say that she was caught by the guard checking tickets who saw her stabbing a nun in her compartment. Unfortunately it was too late to save the poor woman she then confessed to the murders of Sister Teresa and Father Bob.

They released me from Rockfall the same day and I was glad to be back home. But I felt sorry for Kate when I read in the newspaper that judge Don, deciding that prison would not be the best place for her, sent her to Rockfall asylum for treatment.

I decided I would pay her a visit if the asylum would allow it, so I contacted the administration for permission.

A month later, I was on my way to Rockfall by train. Gazing out the window I could see heavy clouds approaching. 'I think we shall have a storm before long' said the man sitting opposite. How right his remarks would be. The crack of thunder was deafening when it came and then the rain poured out of the heavens.

pickarooney

It's a significant improvement. The inclusion of Ted's backstory seems a little out of place - it's basically a big parenthesis in the middle of the present-day action. The parents seem just a little bit too comic-book evil for some reason, although no doubt such people do exist.

Does it finish here or is there more? The last paragraph seems to start off something and then stop suddenly.

happysod

Thanks for your input, greatly appriciated. So far I have written about 35.000 words in this 'story'. :eek:

happysod

[FONT=Verdana, sans-serif]The nine am to London was about to leave the platform but the guard saw me and waved for me to hurry. [/FONT]






[FONT=Verdana, sans-serif]'Not a minute to late young man', he said, grabbing my bag as I jumped on board. The platform dropped away behind me and my breathless thanks was lost beneath the shriek of the locomotive's steam whistle. [/FONT]


[FONT=Verdana, sans-serif]I made my down the narrow companionway, the swaying of the car throwing me off-balance. The two nearest compartments were full but the next one had a vacant seat. [/FONT]


[FONT=Verdana, sans-serif]Sitting next to the attractive girl. Was a far cry from the Rockfall asylum where I had been released that fatal morning. Gazing out the window at the passing scenery brought it all back to me. [/FONT]


[FONT=Verdana, sans-serif]My parents, were not very sociable people, and their fondness for drink and cocaine made my life a living hell I was their only offspring and they reminded me often enough when they were beating the **** out of me they said I was a waste of time and space and I should have been aborted at birth, [/FONT]


[FONT=Verdana, sans-serif]I also wished I had never been born, I was treated like prisoner and wasn't allowed to go to school and I rarely saw outside the high-rise flats in Brixton that we called home. [/FONT]




[FONT=Verdana, sans-serif]My earliest I memory was one dark night they brought a kitten home after one of their drinking binges. [/FONT]


[FONT=Verdana, sans-serif]Lying in bed I was unable to sleep because they would usually wake me up for a beating I heard a terrible screeching I was four years of age at the time and I had become very frightened I crept out of bed and made my way the lounge where the howls were so fierce that I thought my eardrums would burst. [/FONT]


[FONT=Verdana, sans-serif]My father was holding the head of a poor kitten and my mother clasping its hind legs were pulling and stretching it so much that its head left its body I could see its guts spill to the floor and my father shouted heads I win and they started laughing. [/FONT]


[FONT=Verdana, sans-serif]I made a choked cry and was about to leave when they spotted me and threw the dead kitten in my direction hitting me in the face I can still taste its blood in my mouth and feel it warm fur on my face to this day then they ripped my clothes off and smeared my body with the kittens blood afterwards my father pissed on me while my mother cheered him on, [/FONT]


[FONT=Verdana, sans-serif]I became addicted to cocaine at an early age and the bottle of beer I took to bed with me every night was my one and only friend I called it my teddy beer, [/FONT]


[FONT=Verdana, sans-serif]other times I was forced to eat raw animal flesh that they brought home with them and made to drink urine from the toilet, this abuse continued until my fore-teen birthday, when I threw them to their death from the high-rise flats we called home, [/FONT]


[FONT=Verdana, sans-serif]I was sent to Rockfall asylum where I spent the last ten years of my life.[/FONT]
[FONT=Verdana, sans-serif]Looking across at the frail elderly couple I felt happy, making myself comfortable and watched the passing scenery. the girl next to me was reading a woman's magazine, I could hear her giggling from time to time. [/FONT]




[FONT=Verdana, sans-serif]After a while I plucked up enough courage to start a conversation with her but the elderly couple soon put a stop to that when one of their bags from the overhead rack fell to the floor. I picked it up and handed it to the woman, after a quick look inside she told her companion that the tea flask had been broken in the fall [/FONT]
[FONT=Verdana, sans-serif]but the sandwiches were fine. [/FONT]


[FONT=Verdana, sans-serif]The man said his name was Father Bob, and his companion Sister Teresa. 'I'm Ted,' I said, 'I would never have guessed you were of the clergy Father.' 'Well how could you young man we are both retired now of course, no need to wear the dog collar all the time.' [/FONT]


[FONT=Verdana, sans-serif]Sister Teresa picked up the apple the girl had been peeling with a Swiss army penknife when it fell to the floor with a thud. The girl had the look of someone who had seen a ghost. 'Are you ill you poor thing' said Sister Teresa. 'No' the girl said in a strained voice, just a little dizzy, I'm afraid I missed breakfast, 'Kate', she said my name is Kate. [/FONT]




[FONT=Verdana, sans-serif]Well Kate said Sister Teresa I always pack too many sandwiches and Father Bob is always complaining that the ducks are getting too fat on convent food. Her laughter filling the compartment. And offered to share them with us. [/FONT]






[FONT=Verdana, sans-serif]I went to fetch a pot of tea. Along the way however I came to a standstill as an overweight man had collapsed in the companionway and the conductor along with a few passengers were helping him up. It took ages to reach the buffet but finally I took my place in the small queue and when it was my turn I ordered a pot of tea and four slices of their delicious apple-tart and made my way back. [/FONT]




[FONT=Verdana, sans-serif]When I entered the compartment I slipped on a pool of blood that covered the floor and saw the tortured body’s of the priest and non before I was hit on the head with something hard and I lost consciousness, [/FONT]


[FONT=Verdana, sans-serif]when I came the police was firing questions at me. [/FONT]
[FONT=Verdana, sans-serif]One of them said he was chief inspector Sloe. 'and wanted to know my name?' [/FONT]




[FONT=Verdana, sans-serif]'Ted Bundoran', I replied, a little groggy. [/FONT]




[FONT=Verdana, sans-serif]I was arrested and taken to London in a police car '. [/FONT]


[FONT=Verdana, sans-serif]At the police station I protested my innocence, but to no avail. 'It must have been the girl,' I pleaded. But Chief inspector Sloe said there was no evidence of anyone else being present in the compartment and charged me. [/FONT]


[FONT=Verdana, sans-serif]I was Back home in Rockfall asylum for too weeks when one day I was summoned to the warden's office. And I was greeted by Inspector Sloe. He apologized for my wrongful conviction, and proceeded to describe the circumstances to me: [/FONT]




[FONT=Verdana, sans-serif]It seems Kate, became an orphan when her mother left and Being too young at age ten to support herself, she had been delivered to the convent to be educated and cared for by the sisters. [/FONT]


[FONT=Verdana, sans-serif]While there, she was subjected to mental and sexual abuse by the sisters who were charged to look after her, and the parish priest raped her on his weekly visits, [/FONT]


[FONT=Verdana, sans-serif]He went on to say the guard was checking tickets and saw her stabbing a nun in her compartment. Unfortunately, it was too late to save the poor woman. then she confessed to the murders of Sister Teresa and Father Bob.' [/FONT]




[FONT=Verdana, sans-serif]They released me from Rockfall the same day, and I was glad to be back home. But I felt sorry for Kate when I read in the newspaper, that judge Don, deciding that prison would not be the best place for her, sent her to Rockfall asylum for treatment. [/FONT]


[FONT=Verdana, sans-serif]I decided I would pay her a visit, if the asylum would allow it, so I contacted the administration for permission. [/FONT]


[FONT=Verdana, sans-serif]A month later, I was on my way to Rockfall by train, gazing out the window I could see heavy clouds approaching. 'I think we shall have a storm before long,' said the man sitting opposite. How right his remarks would be, The crack of thunder was deafening, when it came and then the rain poured out of the heavens. [/FONT]

pickarooney

I think you lost something in copying and pasting. The fourth paragraph doesn't make sense now

Sitting next to the attractive girl. Was a far cry from the Rockfall asylum where I had been released that fatal morning.

happysod

[FONT=Verdana, sans-serif]Originally Posted by [/FONT]
[FONT=Verdana, sans-serif]The nine am to London was about to leave the platform but the guard saw me and waved for me to hurry. [/FONT]


[FONT=Verdana, sans-serif]'Not a minute to late young man', he said, grabbing my bag as I jumped on board. The platform dropped away behind me and my breathless thanks was lost beneath the shriek of the locomotive's steam whistle. [/FONT]


[FONT=Verdana, sans-serif]I made my down the narrow companionway, the swaying of the car throwing me off-balance. The two nearest compartments were full but the next one had a vacant seat. [/FONT]


[FONT=Verdana, sans-serif]And I sat next to an attractive girl who was reading a woman’s magazine.[/FONT]




[FONT=Verdana, sans-serif]Gazing out the window at the passing scenery I reflected back in time to my parents flat in Brixton and their fondness for drink and cocaine and how it made my life a living hell. [/FONT]


[FONT=Verdana, sans-serif]I was an only child and they reminded me often enough when they were beating the crap out of me that I was a waste of time and space and I should have been aborted at birth, [/FONT]


[FONT=Verdana, sans-serif]I also wished I had never been born, being treated like a leper and not allowed to go to school was punishment far beyond my sin of being born and I rarely saw outside the high-rise flats in Brixton that we called home. [/FONT]




[FONT=Verdana, sans-serif]My earliest memory was when one dark night they brought a kitten home after one of their drinking binges and set about torturing the poor thing. [/FONT]


[FONT=Verdana, sans-serif]Lying in bed and unable to sleep because they would usually wake me up for a beating the terrible screeching reached my ears. I was four years of age at the time and was very frightened by the wailing of the kitten creeping out of bed I made my way the lounge where the howls were so fierce that I thought my eardrums would burst. [/FONT]


[FONT=Verdana, sans-serif]I saw my father holding the head of the poor kitten my mother was clasping its hind legs and they were pulling and stretching it so hard that its head left its body its guts spilling to the floor and my father shouting with pride heads I win and he hit my mother breaking her nose. [/FONT]


[FONT=Verdana, sans-serif]just then he saw me and threw the dead kitten in my direction and it hit me in the face I can still taste its blood in my mouth and feel it warm fur on my face to this day and when they ripped my clothes off and smeared my body with the kittens blood and my father pissed on me while my mother cheered him on. [/FONT]


[FONT=Verdana, sans-serif]the idea of killing them was born. [/FONT]




[FONT=Verdana, sans-serif]I became addicted to cocaine at an early age and the bottle of beer I took to bed with me every night was my one and only friend I called it my teddy beer, [/FONT]




[FONT=Verdana, sans-serif]other times they forced me to eat the dead animals they had tortured and killed and me made drink urine from the toilet, this abuse continued until my fore-teen birthday, when I threw them to their death from the high-rise flats we called home, [/FONT]


[FONT=Verdana, sans-serif]I was sent to Rockfall asylum where I spent the last ten years of my life.[/FONT]
[FONT=Verdana, sans-serif]Looking across at the frail elderly couple I felt happy, making myself comfortable and watched the passing scenery. the girl next to me was reading a woman's magazine, I could hear her giggling from time to time. [/FONT]




[FONT=Verdana, sans-serif]After a while I plucked up enough courage to start a conversation with her but the elderly couple soon put a stop to that when one of their bags from the overhead rack fell to the floor. I picked it up and handed it to the woman, after a quick look inside she told her companion that the tea flask had been broken in the fall [/FONT]
[FONT=Verdana, sans-serif]but the sandwiches were fine. [/FONT]


[FONT=Verdana, sans-serif]The man said his name was Father Bob, and his companion Sister Teresa. 'I'm Ted,' I said, 'I would never have guessed you were of the clergy Father.' 'Well how could you young man we are both retired now of course, no need to wear the dog collar all the time.' [/FONT]


[FONT=Verdana, sans-serif]Sister Teresa picked up the apple the girl had been peeling with a Swiss army penknife when it fell to the floor with a thud. The girl had the look of someone who had seen a ghost. 'Are you ill you poor thing' said Sister Teresa. 'No' the girl said in a strained voice, just a little dizzy, I'm afraid I missed breakfast, 'Kate', she said my name is Kate. [/FONT]




[FONT=Verdana, sans-serif]Well Kate said Sister Teresa I always pack too many sandwiches and Father Bob is always complaining that the ducks are getting too fat on convent food. Her laughter filling the compartment. And offered to share them with us. [/FONT]






[FONT=Verdana, sans-serif]I went to fetch a pot of tea. Along the way however I came to a standstill as an overweight man had collapsed in the companionway and the conductor along with a few passengers were helping him up. It took ages to reach the buffet but finally I took my place in the small queue and when it was my turn I ordered a pot of tea and four slices of their delicious apple-tart and made my way back. [/FONT]










[FONT=Verdana, sans-serif]When I entered the compartment I slipped on a pool of blood that covered the floor and saw the tortured body’s of the priest and non before I was hit on the head with something hard and I lost consciousness, [/FONT]


[FONT=Verdana, sans-serif]when I came the police was firing questions at me. [/FONT]
[FONT=Verdana, sans-serif]One of them said he was chief inspector Sloe. 'and wanted to know my name?' [/FONT]




[FONT=Verdana, sans-serif]'Ted Bundoran', I replied, a little groggy. [/FONT]




[FONT=Verdana, sans-serif]I was arrested and taken to London in a police car '. [/FONT]


[FONT=Verdana, sans-serif]At the police station I protested my innocence, but to no avail. 'It must have been the girl,' I pleaded. But Chief inspector Sloe said there was no evidence of anyone else being present in the compartment and charged me. [/FONT]






[FONT=Verdana, sans-serif]I was Back home in Rockfall asylum for too weeks when one day I was summoned to the warden's office. And I was greeted by Inspector Sloe. He apologized for my wrongful conviction, and proceeded to describe the circumstances to me: [/FONT]




[FONT=Verdana, sans-serif]It seems Kate, became an orphan when her mother left and Being too young at age ten to support herself, she had been delivered to the convent to be educated and cared for by the sisters. [/FONT]


[FONT=Verdana, sans-serif]While there, she was subjected to mental and sexual abuse by the sisters who were charged to look after her, and the parish priest raped her on his weekly visits, [/FONT]


[FONT=Verdana, sans-serif]He went on to say the guard was checking tickets and saw her stabbing a nun in her compartment. Unfortunately, it was too late to save the poor woman. then she confessed to the murders of Sister Teresa and Father Bob.' [/FONT]




[FONT=Verdana, sans-serif]They released me from Rockfall the same day, and I was glad to be back home. But I felt sorry for Kate when I read in the newspaper, that judge Don, deciding that prison would not be the best place for her, sent her to Rockfall asylum for treatment. [/FONT]


[FONT=Verdana, sans-serif]I decided I would pay her a visit, if the asylum would allow it, so I contacted the administration for permission. [/FONT]


[FONT=Verdana, sans-serif]A month later, I was on my way to Rockfall by train, gazing out the window I could see heavy clouds approaching. 'I think we shall have a storm before long,' said the man sitting opposite. How right his remarks would be, The crack of thunder was deafening, when it came and then the rain poured out of the heavens.[/FONT]