I wanted someone to truthfully give an opinion of my writing style, so it'd be nice if you wouldn't hold back on what you have to say so that I can improve.

I'm just going to write something off the top of my head, to make things a little fresh.

Here it is:

I remember those halcyon days. When I could smile and play with the rest of the children. It was a time where I could laugh and be myself. Could it be so hard as for everything to be the way it used to be? Here I am, a survivor, yet unlike the others, I feel no accomplishment. It'd might have been better to die in the war, with everyone else whom I spent my life with, than be here with these edacious fools whom's names and faces I can't recall. I may have survived the terror, but I've yet to survive the pain. I may have escaped those camps, but I haven't escaped the memories.

Look at me now. Pathetic, am I? I resemble my young self, dirty with mud and with my hair sticking out. But now, this appearance isn't calming. It's disgusting. The soil I'm covered with, and the ground I am standing on, is of the now. And now, everything is broken. I remember reading stories that ended with broken futures, who would have guessed it to be real? Maybe deep inside, I did.

~

.-. Yeah, now I have a new story idea... maybe. -w-

Anyways, please critique! Hit me with your best shot >:D