The Pink Balloon (Part 1)

The Pink Balloon

Part 1

I doubt that I could ever forget what I'm about to tell you.

There was a house, seemingly insignificant. I figured it probably would have been pretty, once. It was small, and only one story, and it was made entirely of white-washed stucco. I'd been told the interior was beat up. There was no furniture, just blackened wood flooring and bare walls. I'd passed this house many times, and watched it as it slowly decayed. The property was of little value. It was completely abandoned, in the middle of our neighborhood. Nobody seemed to care, though. They just let it sit there.

It wasn't a dare that drove me to approach this old house, as many rambunctious teenagers had in the past. No, it was solely curiosity (although now as I think back, it was complete idiocy). It had been there my whole life and I wanted to know more about it. It was late afternoon when I strolled down the street towards the house. The trees cast long shadows across the road. It was warm, and the sun was sinking lazily, still shining brightly from the west. I crossed the overgrown lawn and stepped up onto the low stone porch. The door was gaping open, making entry into the house simple and silent. The front room seemed much larger than the view from the outside would suggest, but I guessed it only seemed so from the absence of any decor. I paused, looking around. A faint smell of old candles stung my nose. I considered the hollowness, and wondered why I had ever thought this would've been a pretty house. There was a dense, inhospitable feel about it that raised goosebumps on my arms.

I took three more steps across the room and was suddenly slammed with the sensation to get out. The feeling was so intense it literally forced me to stop dead in my tracks. I shuddered once, but then shrugged it off and trudged on towards the back wall. There was a door there, with peeling white paint and no knob. I decided I would test it just in case. My nerves were frayed from my sudden intense urge to run, and I was completely tensed up, my hands balled into fists. Not wanting to unclench them, I nudged the door with my foot. It swung open effortlessly. I looked up, though, and was immediately filled with regret. No, more than that. Regret, absolute terror, and a heavy wave of nausea surged through my entire body. My ears were filled with a shrill, piercing ringing, and for a moment I was so overcome with horror that I could not move at all. I finally found my limbs again and stumbled away, but not soon enough. The image was already branded deep in my head.

A small, mangled girl was sitting upright in the middle of the floor. She had no legs and no lips, and she was completely drowned in wax, with her distorted arms outstretched towards me. Tied to her left wrist was a pink balloon.

Spoiler

Based on a nightmare I had a few months ago... and still haven't forgotten.

mollycarraway wrote:The Pink Balloon

Part 1

I doubt that I could ever forget what I'm about to tell you. I like this first line. It gives an element of tension yet lets the reader speculate about what this thing is. The whole novel rests on this one happening, and it almost throws us in at the deep end immediately.

There was a house, seemingly insignificant. I figured #FF0000 ">I'm not sure whether this should be 'figured' or 'figure' seeing as the character is evidently telling us this now. Maybe you need to consider which it is.it probably would have been pretty, once. It was small, with only one floor, #FF0000 ">One floor as in only one room or simply the sane type of flooring in each room?and it was made entirely of white-washed stucco. I'd been told the interior was beat up.#BF0080 ">As in 'beaten up' or 'ugly'? There was no furniture, just blackened wood flooring and bare walls. I'd suggest cutting this line as you've already menitioned the walls and flooring. Or, you could add some piece of extra information into this sentence that makes it worthwhile. Each sentence can be anaylsed which means each must have a point. I'd passed this house many times, and watched it as it slowly decayed.Here would be a great point to insert a description of the house decaying; the crumbling walls and creeping ivy. etc. The property was of little value. Show us not tell us. It was completely abandoned, in the middle of our neighborhood. Nobody seemed to care, though. #BF0000 ">[color=#BF0000]This leads me to think that the neighbourhood itself isn't that pretty as many little villages are aiming to get 'village/neighbourhood of the year'. I think that, without realising, you have given us an insight into the lives of these people. If it is how you imagine the neighbourhood to be then great. But if not you may want to reword that sentence.[/color]They just let it sit there.

It wasn't a dare that drove me to approach this old house, as many rambunctious teenagers had in the past. No, it was solely curiosity (but although #BF4000 ">I just think this flows betternow as I think back, it was complete idiocy). It had been there my whole life and I wanted to know more about it. It was late afternoon when I strolled down the street towards the house. The trees cast long shadows across the road. It was warm, and the sun was sinking lazily, still shining brightly from the west. I crossed the overgrown lawn and stepped up onto the low stone porch. The door was gaping open, making entry into the house simple and silent. At this point you have many short sentences. I would vary the length of some. The front room seemed much larger than the view from the outside would suggest, but I guessed it only seemed so from the absence of any decor. I paused, looking around. A faint smell of old candles stung my nose. I considered the hollowness, and wondered why I had ever thought this would've been a pretty house. The air was dense with inhospitality.

I took three more steps across the room and was suddenly slammed This to me, is an odd word to use. I would change it to 'filled' or 'overwhelmed' or something of that description. with the sensation to get out. I shuddered, but then shrugged it off and trudged on towards the back wall. There was a door there, with peeling white paint and no knob. I decided I would test it just in case. My nerves were frayed from my sudden intense urge to run, and I was completely tensed up, my hands balled into fists. Not wanting to unclench them, I nudged the door with my foot. It swung open effortlessly. I looked up, though, and was immediately filled with regret. No, more than that. Regret, absolute terror, and a heavy wave of nausea surged through my entire body. My ears were filled with a shrill, piercing ringing, and for a moment I was so overcome with horror that I could not move at all. I finally found my limbs again and stumbled away, but not soon enough. The image was already branded deep in my head. The imagery here is really good. You have just the right amount of tension that has built us up to this point.

A small, mangled, dead girl This is almost an anti-climax. Try to find a way of showing us that she was dead, not simply telling us. was sitting upright in the middle of the floor. She had no legs and no lips, and she was completely drowned in wax, with her distorted arms outstretched towards me. Tied to her left wrist was a pink balloon.

Overall I thought your technique was excellent, you had the right amount of tension and mystery that becomes a good fiction hook. I have been very nitpicky with this piece and for that I apologise. But I hope I have helped somewhat.

Cool. Love the last paragraph, the imagery is eerie but great.

Before that you did okay, but aside from some instances of awkward wording (i.e., "I figured it probably would have been pretty, once" would read better as "I figured it had probably been pretty once"), my main problem is that the writing isn't, well, exciting enough for what's going on. I mean, let's look at what we've got here:

An abandoned white-stucco house that people only approach on dares.
The narrator enters the house out of curiosity.
The house is creepy, in ruins, definitely not pretty.
DEAD GIRL!!!

The last paragraph, like I said, is just great, the imagery is so wonderful and it's a sudden hit - obviously the reader expects SOMETHING, since there's a creepy abandoned house and the narrator entered it, but we weren't exactly expecting THAT, especially not the specific imagery you gave us. So that's awesome.

What you need to do, though, is extend that to the rest of this. Your writing sounds sophisticated, which is fine, but it doesn't work that well for this kind of story. Which isn't to say that your narrator CAN'T be sophisticated - I mean, if she (she, right?) is sophisticated then she's sophisticated, and there's nothing wrong with that. But I feel like you pull out too many adverbs and abstract adjectives and nouns (i.e., "rambunctious," "inhospitality." By the way, did you know "inhospitality" isn't actually a word? I thought it was, but the computer is telling me it isn't!) Try to stick to concrete images, that'll be a big help. Yes, maybe you WANT to tell us that "the air was dense with inhospitality," but, come on: It's an abandoned house. Of COURSE it's going to feel inhospitable. ("Inhospitable" IS a word.) Maybe just show us, give us more examples - the air is cold, musty, mildewy. Mold is growing in the corners. You already told us that the lawn is overgrown, and in the following paragraph (I believe) you give us the image of the door with peeling paint. If you go with those sorts of specific images, we'll get a good sense that the house feels inhospitable, without you telling us that it's inhospitable. (As every writer is sick of hearing: Show, don't tell!)

Also, you can trim certain sentences. Example: "I doubt that I could ever forget what I'm about to tell you." Okay, let me say something. The narrator found a wax-covered CORPSE in the closet of a creepy old house. OF COURSE she's never going to forget that, so just doubting that she'd ever forget it isn't strong enough. Have conviction! "I'LL NEVER forget what I'm about to tell you" is much stronger than "I DOUBT that I COULD ever forget what I'm about to tell you." You know?

So, hopefully this helps, and let me know when you get more posted, I want to find out where the dead body came from!

~Blue