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Has Ben, Never Was Chapter 4



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Fri Jul 29, 2011 3:14 am
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DrunkOnWriting says...



The fresh floral aroma engulfed me as I stepped down a smooth stone path. The woods around enclosed this vernal oasis, drops of sun falling through and dappling the world with golden light. From the window, Ben’s creations were impressive. Standing in the midst of it all was breathtaking. This unexpected utopia dazzled me, and I nearly forgot what I had come out here for until I spotted him.

He sat on ground, cross-legged in front of a beautiful, blue flowered plant. I took another deep breath and sat down next to him, a new resolve settling inside of me as I looked at his forlorn expression. Silently, we both stared at the bloom in front of us, waiting for the other to speak. I wasn’t a big fan of waiting and decided it would be best if I spoke first anyway.

“Did you…do all this?” Ben turned his head slowly at the genuine interest in my voice, at the softness I had worked very carefully into my words. And he smiled.

“Yes.” He paused, looking a little sheepish. “Gardening is my passion.” Rising from the ground, he plucked a flower off its bush. I rose as well, and he looked between me and the severed plant. “This one is my favorite. It took a while, but I was finally able to cross-breed it just right and now…it’s the exact color of your eyes.” The tenderness in his voice almost offset the fact that his intense devotion to me was a bit frightening.

“Uh, thanks.” I forced a smile on my face as he tucked the blossom behind my ear and gestured that I follow him. There was an old wooden swing at the far end, fastened between two oaks and snaked around with vivid green vines.

“This is how I want it to be.” He sighed, looking off into the distance as we sat down. I twirled my hair nervously.

“What is?”

“This.” He gestured between us. “Just the two of us. No drugs, no screaming. Just…peace.”

I gulped, twining the auburn strand around my entire hand and letting it drop. “Well, we need to set some things straight first.”

“I’m all ears.” His gaze was so intense I had to look away.

“Okay, first of all you need to stop staring at me like that. It’s creeping me out.” Not that the other stuff wasn’t, but I felt it was best not to bring it up.

“But I…” He seemed to stop himself short, reconsidering. “Okay, I’ll try.”

“Second, I wasn’t kidding about my stepmom, so we’re going to need to do something about that.”

A very long moment passed, and I could see his face changing. It contorted in a sudden twist of rage and I shrunk back, startled by this abrupt alteration.

“Come on.” He grabbed my wrist, yanking me off the swing with a jerk and leading me back toward the house.

“Ah, Ben! What are you doing?” I yelped, trying to break free of his iron grasp. Stumbling behind him, I determined that he definitely had some sort of bipolar condition.

“Don’t worry about it.” His voice was harder than usual, eyes set straight ahead.

I blanched, realizing that we were headed for the car. “Ben! Ben, what’s going on? Seriously, are you insane?”

I tried again to break free but my efforts were clearly futile as he tossed me into the passenger side and handcuffed me to the inside door.

“What the hell are you doing?! Ben! Ben you let me go right -” He slammed the door, sending me backwards. “Ugh!” How could I have been so deceived by this guy? It was definitely the garden. Or the drugs.

The engine roared to life and we peeled down a worn out dirt path I hadn’t noticed before.

“Relax, Bridget.” He wasn’t calming down at all, making his efforts to soothe me almost comical.

“How am I supposed to re-LAX?” My voice lurched with the car as we bumped across the rugged terrain. I was being tossed all over the place, and it was an effort just to make the words understandable, handcuffs slamming against my wrists at every jolt. “Easy! You’re going to rip my fucking hands off!”

“We’re just taking care of your stepmother, like you said to.” He didn’t look at me, pulling out onto the main road leading to my house. We were closer to home than I had thought.

“Why am I handcuffed? What’s wrong with you? Ben? Ben!” We skidded to a stop and he leapt out, ignoring me and getting something out of the trunk. “BEN! Get back here! Gah!”

I managed to get the lock and the door burst open, but that was only half the battle. I worked tirelessly to free myself from the cuffs, but it was no use. Suddenly, my eyes caught on the old, rusty hinges, determination flaring up inside of me. My veins pulsed with adrenaline, and things weren’t looking good for the door.

Snap. After an endless minute of slamming myself against it, the hinges broke and I ran full tilt into the house, dragging the door of a red Chevy pickup with me.

“Ben, I swear to god -” My retort stopped short as I stared at the floor in front of me. Crimson ribbons wrapped my bare toes like a gruesome Christmas present. The rusty smell wafted up to my nostrils, making my stomach churn.

“Bridget?! How did you -” he stopped short, eyes widening. “Is that my door?!”

I put a hand to my mouth, gesturing toward the bloody kitchen tiles with a tilt of my head. “Is that my stepmother?!”

A strange smile crept up his face. “Touché. Help me clean this up.” He tossed a mop in my direction, and I threw it back with more force than necessary.

“I will do no such thing! What the hell is wrong with you?! It’s very difficult to find the goodness in someone with your rapidly increasing criminal record!”

“But…this is what you wanted, isn’t it? I took care of her, got her out of the way.” He looked genuinely confused, and I threw my hands up as much as I could in exasperation.

“Do you have no conscience whatsoever?! I didn’t mean for you to murder her!” As the scene set in, panic swelled steadily within me, threatening to burst my well-constructed dam of composure.

He pressed two fingers to his temples, eyes closed. “Well that doesn’t matter now; I was probably going to kill her at some point anyway. Can you please just help me clean this up?”

I rolled my eyes, my nervousnes translating, as it often did, to sarcasm. “Oh sure, I’ll help clean my stepmother’s bloody body off the kitchen floor.”

“Thank you. Here,” He tossed the mop to me again “use this.”

“No!” I let it drop to the floor, sending a sickening tsunami of scarlet over my foot. “This is disgusting. I’m leaving right now.” The metal dragged behind me - heavier now without the adrenaline to help - as I trudged angrily out of the room, head spinning.

“Bridget, wait! Ah.” He made a pained noise, and I couldn’t help but steal a furtive glance behind me.

“What happened to your shoulder?”

“Ana got me with a kitchen knife…its bigger than I thought it was.” He lifted up the sleeve of his plain t-shirt, now spattered with blood, to expose the wound.

“Oh for Christ’s sake.” I sighed, compassion tugging me back towards him like a magnet. How I could still feel this way was beyond me, but his face melted any common sense I possessed.

“It’s not that deep, you’ll be fine. We just need to clean and bandage it up.” Compassion couldn’t keep the cold edge out of my voice, nor could it bring my awful stepmother back to life. Seeing her dead on the floor contorted my stomach, yet it also brought a new sense of twisted freedom. Although I was glad she was out of my life, part of me still felt terrible about the way it happened.

Ben smiled, clearly pleased by my concern. “Thanks, I -”

Tap Tap Tap. We turned toward the noise and froze, shocked by the sudden presence that had just appeared in the doorway.
Last edited by DrunkOnWriting on Mon Jan 23, 2012 11:15 pm, edited 2 times in total.
  





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Fri Jul 29, 2011 3:42 am
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anasn2 says...



Amazing!
Absolutely wonderful work. The diversity of the colliding events is bewildering. You send my head into a buzz and shake it to sense repeatedly with the scenes. This is a wonderful twist to the plot. Ben whom I thought to be tender and sweet was, after all, capable of murder. There is something within me whispering the dropping of the obvious, appealing that I take a deeper look into the situation, maybe then I can know exactly where you're going with this. That would ruin it for me, hence, I refuse to even approach taking a deeper look. Ben is not what you are making me believe. Bridget on the other hand, is as simple as it gets. Your structure and plot building is remarkable, I applaud your creativity.
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Fri Jul 29, 2011 4:41 am
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Iggy says...



You! You are so cruel for always leaving me hanging! I hate youuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu! XD

As usual, it's amazing! Beautiful imagery, fantastic grammar, punctjation, and spelling. Well done! I'm beyond hooked. I'm addicted! I honestly didn't see him killing Ana, though I'm glad he did! I love Ben. Just say'n. O.e

M. O. R. E. P. U. H. L. E. A. S. E. !!!!!!!!!!!!

- ArielLovesThisStory<3
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Fri Jul 29, 2011 3:57 pm
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mparq says...



Who is Ben? I wondered before and now I wonder even more. Wanting to learn more about this crazed maniac. And Bridget, stop being a teenage girl and run the hell away!

Great chapter again. The only thing I would have liked more of is a bit more suspense when she stepped through that door right into a puddle of blood. It all felt a little rushed in that scene, hectic. I felt like there could've been a bit more "this guy just killed my stepmom" from Bridget before "oh no, he got hurt." Anyhow, it's nitpicking. What I love and am jealous of is your gift with dialogue.

“This is how I want it to be.” He sighed, looking off into the distance as we sat down. I twirled my hair nervously.

“What is?”

“This.” He gestured between us. “Just the two of us. No drugs, no screaming. Just…peace.”

I gulped, twining the auburn strand around my entire hand and letting it drop. “Well, we need to set some things straight first.”


Perfect balance between Ben's "innocent" face and Bridget's tentative gravitation towards it. The dialogue flows naturally and the action tags make it easy to read. I hate that you make it seem so easy to do. It's hard!

Now, veering away from a "review" I want to give my impressions on this chapter, mainly Bridget. Why, Bridget, why! You have common sense, a brilliant sense of common sense, so why are you falling for Mr. Volatile-Two-Face-Psycho? I, a rational teenage guy, will never understand. One thing I can say, is that every one of your chapters has me glued to each and every sentence, even as I try to hold back a smile or cringe away in disgust.

Last little thing.

Tap Tap Tap. We both spun around and froze, shocked by the sudden presence that had just appeared in the doorway.

This confused me a little after I read it again. They both spun around? But why were they both facing the same way? I felt a tad bit disoriented in the setting here.

Oh, and I'm guessing that our third visitor isn't just a wayward child come to claim his lovely crimson-ribbon-wrapped christmas present, hm?

You pull me up over the cliff just so you can hang me over a new one, grrr. Need chapter 5 now :)
  





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Fri Jul 29, 2011 4:22 pm
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DrunkOnWriting says...



just to help you out with this a little: I was trying to make this feel a bit hectic; when something shocking happens, good or bad, it usually takes a while to sink in. Also there's a lot going on, and I was trying to give the impression that Bridget was sent into a sudden whirlwind...although I do agree that it may have been a little too rushed.

As for that last line, I was picturing them facing each other and parallel to the doorway. Looking at it now, I see that "spun around" gives the wrong impression, and it should have just been a sudden turn toward the door.

Hope that helps! And yes, I do love leaving you off the edge of that cliff. heh heh heh ;)
  





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Sat Aug 06, 2011 7:33 pm
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lele253isme says...



Cliffhanger much. I didn't expect him to murder her, I thought he would just threaten her. Phew, this is a good story!!! Nice job. But, seriously though, your good at cliffhangers, I am off to read the next chapter.
  





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Sat Jan 21, 2012 9:32 am
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confetti says...



You start out nearly every chapter with a description of scenery. As well-written as it is, it gets old fast. A reader's favourite part is almost never description of scenery. We reader's love dialogue, action, things that move the story along and create a pace. By starting out with description of scenery each time, it feels like you're slowing the story down. Don't do that. Keep in moving. You can always add in description in the middle of the chapter. It can be thrown in while Bridget talks to Ben, perhaps he shows her a flower and she admires the white-tipped petals. I don't know. But you get the point.

“This one is my favorite. It took a while, but I was finally able to cross-breed it just right and now…it’s the exact color of your eyes.”

Creepy. Very, very creepy.

“Easy! You’re going to rip my fucking hands off!”

Seems out of character
and I ran full tilt into the house, dragging the door of a red Chevy pickup with me.

I don't think she would be able to run very fast while dragging a car door

“I will do no such thing! What the hell is wrong with you?! It’s very difficult to find the goodness in someone with your rapidly increasing criminal record.”

This doesn't seem like a very believable reaction. Ben just murdered her step mother, she should be shocked, scared out of her mind, hysterical, or something more reactive than that. Don't let your story turn into something unbelievable.
Compassion couldn’t keep the cold edge out of my voice, nor could it bring my awful stepmother back to life. Seeing her dead on the floor contorted my stomach, yet it also brought a new sense of twisted freedom. Although I was glad she was out of my life, part of me still felt terrible about the way it happened.

Although this seems like a more suitable reaction, it's far too late and simply not big enough. If a strange guy you'd just met ran into your house and killed your step mother, would you be so non-chalant about it? No. If she's having a hard time reaction, make her lost for words, don't make her sarcastic. You know? Your story is slowly becoming less and less realistic, and I hope that it doesn't continue down that path.
"So the writer who breeds more words than he needs, is making a chore for the reader who reads."
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