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okay, for no explainable reason, i felt like posting a short story i wrote last year for language arts class. I am aware that i use the word ice too many times in the first paragraph, so don't say anthing about that. any other advice would be greatly appreciated. keep in mind that i wrote this in 6th grade when your racking up the "constuctive critisism"(i probably spelled that wrong)

The sun glinted off the top of the mountain, made metallic by ice. As the ground sloped down, the ice began to melt into snow, though the ice still lay underneath, cracked in certain places like an ice cube dropped in water. The snow should have crunched beneath Hank’s feet, but as his feet landed on the snow, he could neither see or hear them. Suddenly, a strong wind flew into Hank and his loose, white jumpsuit flapped like a leaf thrust into the sky. Hank did not cower, as he should have, but instead spread out his arms and was lifted into the sky, his jumpsuit flapping ferociously, and his uncut grey hair flying in unpredictable patterns created by the wind. The ground disappeared and soon puffy white clouds enveloped him.
And then he woke up.

Sitting over a plate of waffles in the bright dining hall of the Bridgeport insane asylum, Hank cut through his food with a blunt plastic knife. He was sitting across from a small man with a clipboard.
“I dreamed again. Dreamed of what’s not true, or is it?” Hank said
“Everybody dreams, Hank,” said the doctor across the table.
“But do they dream the same dream, every time they dream, dream of things not true, or are they, Dr. Anderson?” he said to the man across the table.
“Sometimes yes,” replied Dr. Anderson
Hank put the spork with a piece of waffle into his mouth and tasted the syrup.
“I flew, flew in the silky sky, where the clouds are, and what was not true was, true as you and me.”
“That’s why you’re here, Hank. You remember?” asked Dr. Anderson, making a mark on the clipboard.
Hank examined his waffle.
“I would have flown, flew into the silky sky, if they had not stopped me, and what was not true would be, true as you and me,” said Hank, staring off into space.
“Well, Hank, I guess you still need to spend some time here,” said Dr. Anderson, sighing and putting away the clipboard. He left, and Hank continued to slowly eat his waffle.

Hank gazed out at the city from the 42nd story window. Skyscrapers stood tall, their heads in the clouds, where Hank would soon join them. He dove out of the window, and as he was about to hit the tiled ground, he began to burst up from the pattern of deep purple and black that covered the ground. The tops of buildings fell behind him, and he turned and thrust his body in different directions through the sky.

Hank stared at his pillow, torn from his dream by a crack of lightning in the night. He gazed for what seemed like hours at the smooth pillow, and decided that tomorrow, he would fly outside of his dreams.
He turned over and saw a man sitting upright on another bed staring at him. It was Alfred, Hank’s roommate. He wore a straitjacket over his white jumpsuit and a long brown beard falling from his face like a large rodent was grabbing him. He sniffed and the rodent’s tail came upward a little.
“Tomorrow I am going to fly, fly into the silky sky, where I will be free in the land of clouds and sun,” announced Hank.
“You should” approved Alfred.
“Yes. I will go up there, into the silky sky, fly there, and what was not true will be, true as you and me,” said Hank.
“You should,” repeated Alfred, with little emotion in his voice. He sounded like a robot.
“I must, unless I am to stay here forever, in this land of nothing, where I have been, but I will escape, back to the silky sky, and what was not true will be true, true as you and me,” said Hank, “Would you like to come? Come to the silky sky, where what is not true is, true as you and me?”
“You should. I should. You should, I should. You should, I should, you should, I should WE ALL SHOULD!” yelled Alfred from and struggled furiously within his straitjacket until screaming and squirming, he fell on the floor.
“LET ME OUT!”
Two nurses rushed into the room, there footsteps pounding on the tiled floor. They struggled with Alfred until the finally nailed him down on the carpeted floor and shoved a needle into his neck. Alfred screamed as the nurses squeezed the shot and a clear liquid went through the needle and into Alfred’s neck. His scream cut off sharply, and the brightly lit room seemed to get smaller as the needle retreated from his neck. Hank sat on a chair staring blankly at Alfred as a nurse dragged him from the room. The other nurse ran over to Hank and injected him too, but Hank did not scream like Alfred. As the shot left his skin, he drifted into a deep sleep.

Hank awoke in a room with no windows and very little light. The floor was puffy and soft, and so was the wall his back was propped up against. He stood up. He took a step and his foot sunk into the floor a little. He looked at the room. Everything was puffy and soft, even the ceiling. He found the door and tried to open it. It didn’t budge. He tried again, calmly. Then he banged on it with both fists. No one came. He tried again, louder. It echoed through the room. He waited, sitting on the soft floor. Soon he was lying down, still waiting. He fell asleep.

Hank’s eyes flickered and where greeted by bright light. He propped himself up and stared at the broken door. Alfred lay on the floor like a dead man, bleeding from his head where the door must have scratched him. Pieces of the door lay scattered around him, as if he had broken through the door, and Hank had no doubt that he had. He stepped in to the hallway, and looked out the window in front of him. The sun was just beginning to rise, illuminating the clouds on the horizon. He looked back at the hallway, and saw another door broken open, bits of wood scattered in front of it.
Probably where Alfred had been.
He stepped into the window frame, and his jump suit flapped in the wind. He looked down at the pavement blankly, and his toes curled over the windowsill. He heard people running in the hall, footsteps banging on the tiles.
“You should.”
Hank looked back at Alfred, who was starring attentively at him.
He jumped.


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Overall interesting read!
Might want to work on punctuation, though. When you describe the pillow as "smooth," it doesn't really help the story to me. Just lets me know random information on the roughness of that particular pillow, you know? Might want to add something, that is, if you're still changing this.
"42nd" is written out; forty-second.

I apologise for the harshness, I'm a bit cranky. ^^ I did enjoy it, though!

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You're telling me that there's no hope.

I'm telling you you're wrong.

if by punctuation you mean the lack of indents and some spaces between paragraphs, that just didn't copy through with copy+paste. and other punctuation problems are likely, i've never been good with that. but i'll try for more usefull words later. thanks!

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AEAFADAGAEAFADAEAC#AD

>"constuctive critisism"

- Close. It's constructive criticism. Think of the word critic when you write criticism, that will help you remember that it's a c.

> the ice began to melt into snow,

- Ice melts into slush, not snow.

> “Sometimes yes,” replied Dr. Anderson

- You missed your closing period.

> “Tomorrow I am going to fly, fly into the silky sky, where I will be free in the land of clouds and sun,” announced Hank.

- I know he's supposed to be insane, but Hank's dialogue is a little annoying. I think you need to change it around. Instead of "Fly, fly into the silky sky", try playing with the word order, or describing the sky as something other than silky from time to time.

> “You should” approved Alfred.

- "You should," approved Alfred.

> Two nurses rushed into the room, there footsteps pounding on the tiled floor.

- their footsteps

> They struggled with Alfred until the finally nailed him down

- until they finally nailed

> Hank’s eyes flickered and where greeted by bright light.

- and were greeted

> Pieces of the door lay scattered around him, as if he had broken through the door, and Hank had no doubt that he had.

- Instead of repeating door, you can write "as if he had broken through" or "as if he had broken through it". It's best not to repeat a word if you don't have to.

- I doubt asylum doors are made of wood, by the way. But it's possible. Maybe you should research that?

- Okay, not bad overall. I don't do short stories often myself, but they normally have a message or theme. I take it the one here is that the character wants to be free from the insanity?

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I had an old signature. Now I've changed it.