How is my first chapter?

Ok, I'm writing a Harry Potter fan-fiction (I don't want any criticism about the fact it's a fan-fiction, I'll write it anyway, and I don't want criticism on the actual idea), and I want to know what people think about my first chapter. I know it's quite long, but I'm not sure how it is and I need genuine opinions about how well it's written. Constructive criticism is greatly appreciated, and be honest, don't just say it's good, I want to improve. Thanks in advance. -Chapter One- ‘Are you scared yet, Hailie, sweetie? Are you afraid of me now?’ His voice echoed horribly in my eardrums. ‘Oh, look, she’s crying. How sweet.’ Just make it stop … If you ever tell anyone, I’ll kill you.’ ***** My eyelids snapped open and I jolted upright, breathing heavily. Just a dream … That’s what I told myself, anyway. It was just a dream … But the dream was merely a haunting of reality. That it was only a repeat of the past, and a prediction of the future. My breathing slowed down to a regular rhythm as I rubbed my eyes and glanced at the clock that lay on the desk. Seven pm. It wasn’t really unusual for me to fall asleep in the middle of the day. I tried to keep myself awake for as long as possible to avoid the nightmares. It didn’t work. I couldn’t stay awake forever. Eventually I would fall asleep, and the nightmares would be ready to attack me again. I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the window beside me, and turned to stare at it. A teenage girl stared back at me. Her dark clothes contrasting the paleness of her skin. Her dark red hair was messy and unkempt; her vivid, emerald eyes wide open. They say eyes are the window to the soul. Whenever I look at my eyes I see the shattered remains of mine. I didn’t understand how anyone could look into my eyes without seeing hurt behind them. I looked away, I just could bare it. ‘I don’t belong here …’ I whispered. But there was no one to hear it. Those four simple words summed up my entire life. How could one sentence express what I felt so perfectly? How I longed to be able to die. To have to power drift away from this world into obscurity, into nothingness … into oblivion. But he would never let me. I know that I had fit into another place before. Properly fit it. Not just pretend to like I do now, hiding behind lies and fake smiles. I had fit into another world. But how to get there? This question I pondered almost every moment of my pointless life. ‘You’re insignificant, sweetie … useless, worthless. Who could ever love someone like you?’ I shook my head to get rid of his voice. Remembering the place where I was considered to be ‘normal’ was torture. As though thousands of knives were digging into my heart. I could still remember when I was loved. It killed me inside. Remembering the family I used to have. The world we lived in. remembering the day they were murdered. I was only a year old at the time, but I can remember it like it was yesterday. It seems that I have been cursed to remember everything. Something many people would kill for. It was alright for them, but I didn’t want to remember. I don’t want to remember a thing. I never saw the face of the man that had murdered my parents, but I could see a pair of haunting, icy blue eyes that glinted maliciously underneath the hood he was wearing to cover his face. I remember my father yelling at my mother to run, sacrificing himself to protect her, my brother and me. I remember a horrifying high pitched laugh echoing in the hall, piercing through my very heart. I remember my mother dying to save our lives; her life snatched away from her in one moment. It didn’t work. Not for my brother, anyway. How I survived, I don’t think I’ll ever find out, but it should have been me. Maybe his life would have been worth living. Unlike mine. People would probably describe me as being lucky, escaping death like that, but I didn’t think so. I survived to live a life of pointlessness. A life of sadness. A life of hurt. I blinked furiously, trying to contain the tears that welled up inside me. I had been sent to an orphanage after that, and adopted a few months later. Everything would have turned out fine if it wasn’t for the fact that my adopted father was killed in a car crash a few years later. It was like I was an omen for bad luck. Then, he came. My adoptive mother can’t see the evil behind his eyes that I do. She thinks it’s love, but I know better. He’s just using her to get what he wants. And he always gets what he wants. He make me feel ashamed of myself, tainted, infected. I’d give anything to be an ordinary teenager. Without problems. To be able to live my life without a care in the world. Glancing to my left, my sketchbook lay open, displaying the charcoal drawing of a castle I had drawn a million times before, from every possible a angle I could draw it from. I knew that it must mean something – people don’t draw for no reason at all. I had no recollection of drawing it, however, nor of ever seeing a castle like it, only that it had been drawn by my own hand. But it didn’t take a genius to work out, that this castle came from the world that I so longed to return to. But I never could. I can’t bear the fact that I’m different. That the others have all forgotten me. That the only place where I would be accepted for who I was had disappeared without a trace. They’d left me behind. They obviously didn’t care about what happened to me anymore. It’s their fault that all of this happened. I glanced down at my right wrist. It was covered with a black sweatband, as it always would be. The feel of a cool razor blade slicing into my skin was like ecstasy to me; the only way I could escape the pain I felt in my heart. The unseen illness that encapsulated it. The wounds may have healed but the scars still remained ther

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5 Comments: Trackback URL | Comments RSS

  1. Skye_Goes_Rawr Says:

    …….Wow……… That’s like REALLY good!!!! I like it cause it keeps the reader hooked and wants more!! Keep writing!!! :D

  2. sunil Says:

    it was just a dream

  3. Caty Derrick Says:

    its pretty good but i think that u should just say what the girls name is and what her brothers name is :D good job over all tho

  4. Always Right Says:

    Okay, several criticisms:

    – I have yet to understand how this is a Harry Potter fanfiction. There’s barely any hint of it, except for the castle and the murder.
    – You have a ridiculously long and angsty introduction that says absolutely nothing except that the MC feels depressed. Take some focus off the MC’s thoughts and feelings and write some descriptions of the setting she finds herself in; or add some dialogue or action (it works, even if it’s the intro).
    - Cut the angst and don’t make the MC cut herself, among other things. (C wut I did there?) It doesn’t help readers empathize with your character, unless they’re emo kids themselves. It rather makes them roll their eyes and head for the red X button.
    – Whenever something can be said in 50 words and still sound like literature, don’t say it in 1000. From what I understand, this Hailie is Harry’s sister. Right. So make the reader understand this faster and sooner. For example, we haven’t yet found what relationship she has with her brother. Or, darn, anything about Harry, not even his name.
    - Don’t turn Hailie into a Mary Sue, pretty please. (If you don’t know what a Mary Sue is, go find out. NOW. It is mandatory for every aspiring writer.) Also, if you’re writing a Harry Potter story, then keep it Harry Potter. That is, don’t pay less attention to Harry than you should.

  5. Rosie-doll Too Says:

    But the dream was merely a haunting of reality. That it was only a repeat of the past, and a prediction of the future—-this sentence is akward, I’d change it…it’s confusing to me a little.

    That’s honestly the only problem I see…. it’s a heartbreaking story! It’s very vivid and descriptive, great job! I wanna read the whole story!

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