Deleted user
Oh this is going great! Look at the difference.
Old:
He ran. He ran, his eyes puffy and red, tears running down his cheeks leaving stains. Branches slapped him as he sprinted through the dark forest. The night air was crisp and cold freezing his tear-stained cheeks. Coyotes howls echoed through the night air riding on a gentle breeze. No starlight shown and the moon was hidden from sight.
Everything had been taken from him. All his life he had lived in a shadow of pain and suffering, now that last thing he had, all that kept him to the sanity in the world was taken from him. He refused to remember, he just couldn’t, the pain would be too much. But his mind betrayed him. There it lay on the ground, blood pooling out and its eyes glassy. It withered in pain as more blood flowed out.
New:
He ran, his footsteps crashing onto the forest floor rapidly, sending his tears flying behind him. He sprinted through the undergrowth blindly, his eyes swollen and red. His cheeks were cold from the autumn night air.
Howls surrounded him, riding on the night air like feathers in the wind. Faint starlight danced on the leaf-dappled ground, peeking at the boy through the thick branches above.
Why had this happened? What had he ever done to deserve this? It always seemed he was the only person in the world to undergo such pain.
The blood filled his mind, making him sick. So much death had been in his life, and now this? He cried out, the tears multiplying.
She was all he had left! Why was she taken from him? Why? Why!
His mind was a muddled mess of shock and grief. Despite the inner chaos that swirled through his head, one question remained.
“Why?” He screamed into the night air as he collapsed on the dark forest floor, his legs giving out. “Why me!” He cradled his head in his hands, cold tears freezing the palms of his hands. His body shook with sobs. He chanted her name over and over again, hoping it’d bring her back by some miracle, or it was all just a dream and he’d wake up to her smiling face.
“This isn’t real. This isn’t real!” The boy screamed. “She’s not dead, she can’t be!”
He braced his hands on the forest floor, only to have something sharp prick his hand. He withdrew his cold wounded hand from the source of pain. His fist clenched around something that felt like a stick. He looked at it and shrieked.
In his grip was the bloody murder weapon. He threw it away with a startled yelp, the blood-tipped arrow flying a few feet from him.
Had he- Had he taken it out of her body? He gulped. In the moments of disorder that befell her body, he wouldn’t be surprised if he tried to help her.
Just thinking of it made his body tremble with another oncoming wail.
