Say

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http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4ZseqXHLOwk

Even if your hands are shaking
and your faith is broken
even as the eyes are closing
do it with a heart wide open...wide...
Say what you need to say.

 John Mayer, Say.

A tribute to the strongest person I know and love the most, my mother.


---

The predator locks into the prey. Lock in, shoot, and make. Simple. In just one second of your entire so called life, as cliché as it sounds, your life could be destroyed into a million pieces like shattered mirror. It’s quite horrifying how easily the prey is killed, the predator with a smirk on it’s face glad to have finished it’s work. It enjoys every little part of the satisfaction of knowing it could hurt something without getting hurt itself. Watching the prey struggle, each breath it takes a shuddered never heard cry is like a delicacy for the predator. It licks up every last crumb, eager to have more.

I stand in front of the mirror, a naked body right in front of my two eyes. The marks all over, each one a harsh memory of that each spur of the moment it was done in. I stare at them for a long time, my mind clouded with nothing but the images of him. Despite the fact that the pictures in my mind are terrifying, I am not scared, how ironic. I look into the mirror, a face exactly one like mine looking back at me. I continue to gaze aimlessly at the person in front of me, how strange that person is. Her lips are set in a tight, closed line her eyes red with purple circles around them. Suddenly the person starts to do something strange, something I do not like. Wet tears drip down her cheeks, and she utters out a moan. I close my eyes and cover my ears with my hands, trying to block out the sound of her wailing. Strange enough that person does the same, yet she is still crying. It seems as if she wants to stop the noise, yet she cannot get herself to do so. For some seems like ages she finally does stop however. I open my eyes, and bring my arms back to my sides. I look up and see this person looking back. She looks so fragile, so weak, like prey. That’s when I realize something. That person in the mirror isn’t some stranger. It’s me.

“Ali, you need to tell me. Is Robert abusive?” The lady with the red hair asks me.
I stare at the fine lines on her face that easily tell me her age.
“No.” I reply.
Her eyes search my face for any sign of lying, for any weakness. I am not going to give it away though, most definitely not. I stare right back, until she finally looks away, uncomfortable. A silence hangs over out heads while she jots some things down onto a small notepad.
“Alright. Here’s my card. If you ever need any help, just ring me.” She says as she begins to get up, the chair beneath her making out a low croak. I nod as she places the card in my hand.
She turns around making her way towards the door, then suddenly stops. The lady turns around again, and walks over to me.
“You know Ali. When I was younger, a few years younger then how old you are right now, I had a boyfriend. I loved him to utter death. He was gorgeous, his eyes the color of the night sky. Dark yet sparkling. He, to me, was perfection. When he asked me on a date I felt like flying, and soon enough we became a ‘thing’. At first it was amazing, he would shower me with presents, compliments, warm kisses. Then something went wrong, and it was all down hill from then. My boyfriend, Hugh wasn’t very fond of my best friend, Matt. As a matter of fact Matt wasn’t either. Hugh was pretty okay about me being best friends with Matt, you know? Hanging out often, laughing at silly jokes. But then one day when Matt tried to hug me Hugh exploded. He got mad and said I was a two timing bitch. I tried to pacify him, and told Matt to leave. After much begging Huge forgave me and we continue our relationship. However, I never saw him as the same person ever again. The rage in his eyes, the anger in his voice, it was horrible. He would beat mercilessly till I was bleeding if I ever so much as set my eyes upon any other man. Eventually Matt found out, and he helped me. At first I told him that Hugh was a great guy, usually didn’t hit me unless I did something terribly wrong. But Matt knew me better then I knew myself, he could tell I was lying. He helped me, and today I am married to that young man who saved me from an abusive relationship. My point is that today I am much more happy then I ever was with Hugh. He went onto jail, getting into drugs and even a few murder cases. I was lying to myself the entire time I was with Hugh. I told myself he was perfect, that he would change and we’d be in love more than ever before. I was wrong, so wrong. I’m glad I had Matt there to help me, if not I doubt I’d even be alive today. Just to let you know.” She said all in one breath.
I was shocked, I simply nodded my head up and down stupidly as I watched her turn her back on me and leave.

That night Robert came home. Drunk. His voice was slurred, and his eyes blood shot red. He plomped onto the couch and shouted out my name. I hurried over to him and took off his shoes and socks, placing a plate of food in front of him. He took one bit and spat it out, then took the plate and smashed it against the wall.
“You call this food you lazy moron? This is horrible!” He screamed his face turning red. I tried to sweep up everything, but he kicked me and I fell onto my side screaming in pain.
“Shut up! Shut up! Or I’ll kill you!” He shouted suddenly a knife in his hand, now pressed against my neck. He dug it slightly inwards and I could feel blood coming out.
“No, please. Please.” I pleaded.
He laughed hysterically digging the knife even deeper.
“Stop!” I exclaimed, and grabbed hold of a cup and smashing it against his head.
The beer and blood knocked him out. I sat there shaking, tears rolling down my face. I cradled myself in my arms, rocking back and forth, back and forth all night.

When I woke up my head hurt, and Robert was still beside me unconscious. I thought. I thought for a long time until I knew what to do.
“Ali! Are you okay?” The lady ushered my in as I stood in front of her house. She was surprised to see me like this. Crusted, red blood on my face, ripped clothing, my hair a mess. She quickly regained herself though and sat me down in her living room.
“Mrs. Evan’s? I want to tell you something.” I said my voice shaky.
“Yes, dear?” She said as she rummaged in the first aid kit looking for some gauze and wipes.
“It’s about Robert. I-I want him out of my life. He abuses me, often. I want to divorce him. I want to stop the pain.” I said my breaths coming out uneven.
Mrs. Evan’s looked at me and then hugged me.
“It’s going to be alright.” She said as her arms wrapped around my body.
“Ali?” She said after a long silence, me still in her arms.
“Yeah?” I asked.
“I’m glad you said something. I’m glad you spoke out.” She whispered.
“Me too.” I replied back.




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So, JD. I don't think I've read anything by you before – or have I?

First of all, I'm glad there's a story behind this story. Of course, it's unfortunate if someone you love has had to go through similar events, but the fact that the theme is close to you makes the story automatically more effective. It's also nice that this story has a song, even though I can't listen to it at the moment.

Then, if we go into the nit-picky stuff, you had some problems with apostrophes, at least in the first paragraph. Here's an article from the Knowledge Base to help you with that, just scroll down for the its/it's problem you had going on.

The paragraph with the girl watching herself in the mirror is too long. You have to cut something out, no matter how important is for the effect. It goes very close to numbing the reader's brain, being like that in one long paragraph.


I nod as she places the card in my hand.


This sounds a bit awkward. It could be "as she hands me the card", but I suppose it would have a different meaning to it, so what about "as she closes my fingers around the card" or something?


He laughed hysterically digging the knife even deeper.


All the abusive people are mentally sick, but I couldn't help thinking that the man seemed more like a twisted psychopath with all the laughing and whatnot. I mean, it was more on the corny side, really. I don't know. Also. It's quite a big deal if someone is digging a knife into your neck – there's, for example, the jugular and other important things under the skin. That's why I found it quite unrealistic that after she had basically got her throat/neck cut open, she just wakes up with a bit of headache.


Mrs. Evan’s?


Evans, maybe?


Another thing you need to shorten is Mrs Evans's monologue about her abusive boyfriend. I don't believe anyone would actually talk like that, without any "Mrs Evans sighed, staring at the carpet. Then she went on." or anything similar. It's very tiring to read something that long and linebreakless.

The ending is also a bit abrupt. The topic is touchy and important and it's great that you chose it as something to write about, but at least I was left with empty hands after the current ending. The opening your mouth and talking about your problem is the force that carries the story (it's even in the title) so I think you could colour the ending with for example, describing how free she felt and whatnot. Even though writers may be tired of writing the story towards the ending, it shouldn't show in the text!

I hope I could help! PM me with any questions :)


Demeter
x
"Your jokes are scarier than your earrings." -Twit

"14. Pretend like you would want him even if he wasn't a prince. (Yeah, right.)" -How to Make a Guy Like You - Disney Princess Style

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Rule Number 1: proofread. When you think you're done, reread what you've written, and don't get caught up in the story. Look at the words and make sure they say what you want them to say. These things don't confuse you since you've spent a lot of time with it, but they're stumbling blocks for a new reader that takes them out of your story while they figure out what you meant to say.

Make a conscious decision to use past tense. You've mixed past and present tense here. Present tense is weird in a story. I know, I've experimented with the exotic world of present tense myself, but the plain truth is that you're telling a story, and stories happened in the past, which is why you're able to tell it. And most verbs just don't have the same "oomph" when used in present tense.

The beer and blood knocked him out

What?

That whole soliloquy by the "lady with the red hair" needs work. Write how people talk. It begins very conversational with "You know Ali" and very quickly rockets into outer space ("his eyes the color of the night sky") without any transition on her part, no development from us to properly care about what she's saying, and then it drops back down into conversational "we became a 'thing'."

I can only imagine that this meeting with the "lady with the red hair" is the first meeting with this apparent "professional" due to the handing of the card. But this character is otherwise unprofessional in divulging the narrative that makes up probably 30% of your work. Either develop her more or keep her professional or give other clues as to why she would speak at such length.

(Side note: If this lady-with-the-red-hair's story makes up 30% of the story written here, then maybe we should be reading her story.)

Keep it concise. "I watched her turn her back on me and leave." "She turns around making her way towards the door, then suddenly stops" "she jots some things down onto a small notepad" "For some seems like ages she finally does stop however" All of these sentences and more can be cleaned up and streamlined. Don't crowd your narrative with the unnecessary.

Plomp is not a word.
Don't abuse the word "suddenly."
When did her clothing get ripped?
"I close my eyes and cover my ears with my hands" What else is around to cover one's ears with? Again, don't crowd your narrative with the unnecessary.
And, indeed, the ending is very abrupt. Ever since the lady finished her monologue, everything happened in 1-2 sentence paragraphs as we hurtled into the conclusion.




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Hey there JD!

your life could be destroyed into a million pieces like shattered mirror

I love this line and its what really first captivated me, that and the "dedication to your mother" - that was actually very sweet. XD

I think the plot's beautifully structured and surrounded by implicitly weilded narrations of thought. It's kind of poetic. I really enjoyed the use of language as well.

I think the main problem is grammar. There's bits here and there where apostrophes aren't in there "proper" positions and to be honest with you, I have the same problem. I think you need to re-read and re-punctuate some sentences to give it that extra knock. Also perhaps a re-word here and there, because some sentences nearer the end began to get a little more confusing.

Any'oo I actually enjoyed this quite alot. Just give it a nice, thorough revision.
Keep up the good work!
Ben




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Hey, JD. I just want to say first that i love this story, and the way you incorporated the John Mayer song is really awesome. It had a good story line, and it kept me interested. Now, I noticed two really long paragraphs. The first one where she's looking into the mirror. I think it would be more effective if it was a little shorter. After a while it kind of gets tedious trying to read it. The other one is the one where she's talking to the lady. I don't think there's any possible way someone could talk about something like that without pausing for a sigh or looking down at the carpet or something. Also, I don't think it would be very possible to say all of that in one breath. Other than that, I thought it was really good. Keep up the good work. I'm looking forward to reading some of your other works. :)
I'll watch the night turn light blue/But it's not the same w/o you/Because it takes 2 to whisper quietly/The silence isn't so bad/Till i look at my hands and feel sad/Cus the spaces between my fingers are right where yours fit perfectly...
"Vanilla Twilight" by Owl City...



Meet me in Montauk.
— Charlie Kaufman