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TITLE: Angry Young Man - Dark Times
By Drew Scot
02/21/06
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Direction, please. I'm new to the story-writing genre' and am interested in expanding my technique. Any help in developing characters or critique for the beginning of this story would be helpful.
The first thing Jared noticed as he came to was the stinging pain in his eyes and his ears still ringing from the sound of the crash. Through the acrid smoke it appeared the car in front of him was upside down. His head was pounding with pressure.
Then the startling realization, “I’m the one who’s upside down!”
As he reached for his seat belt latch, the smell of gas began to permeate the air.
The belt held fast and Jared panicked as he began to try to squirm free.
He looked up to see a figure just outside the car. As he yelled “Hey! Somebody help me”, he saw someone outside of the window strike a match and throw it to the ground. Then boots, black jeans, a big belt buckle and a trail of blue flames riding along the side of the car.
“Hurry!” he said to himself as he dropped out of the restraint, “got to get free!”
Suddenly Jared dropped to the roof of the car with a thud and quickly whipped around to exit through the passenger-side window.
As crawled out through the broken glass and twisted metal, he found himself tumbling out of control down the ravine on the side of the road, only vaguely aware of the explosion that ensued until, finally, his head came to rest hard against a stump.

“Can you hear me, young man, can you hear me?” It was the first voice he had heard and the first inkling Jared had that he might still be in this world.
“No response”, said the voice. Then he was out again.
When Jared awoke, he reached up, to feel his throbbing head only to find it tightly wound in gauze. He felt a severe pain in his right leg. It was that feeling you get when your leg “falls asleep” and is waking up again, only much more intense.
Jared reached down to soothe the pain, but where he expected to feel his leg, he only got a handful of bed-sheet.
“I must still be dreaming!” he said out loud as he continued to grasp more frantically at the air.
A voice he didn’t recognize spoke in a low-toned whisper, “No such luck boy. Lay back and calm yourself. You’ll need to take it easy.”
As Jared’s questioning turned into fear, he looked up to see the owner of the words draw closer. And, though his eyes clouded with tears, he felt rage rise equally within him. What happened and how could this be? Was it true or was the drink he had the evening of the accident laced with something more potent?
“What have you done to me?” he demanded of the stranger.
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