Numb

My eyes fly open, and I look around, my husband's back presses against mine, as I prop up on my elbow, and I know in my gut that something's wrong with Charlie.

Throwing my legs off of the bed, I pad down the hall, wincing as my bare feet slap on the cool wood. My palm touches the icy glass doorknob, and twist it open violently, tearing into Charlie's room, where he lay asleep in his bed.

His spaceship quilt stop at his chin, tucking in around his neck, and I let out a sigh of relief. His curly golden hair sticks in little ringlets to his tanned cheeks, his perfect, rasberry- pink lips make an O around his thumb, which he has jammed into his mouth.

My son, Charlie, is 4 years old now; yeah, I know- a little old to be sucking his thumb, but I don't care. We live in Florida, and his bronzed skin and golden hair makes him look like a min-surfer boy; kind of like Ken, I suppose... except, smaller... and in Preschool.

My heart warms at the sight of him, and I sit down carefully next to him, stroking his soft, velvet-like hair in repeated, rhythmic strokes.

Finally, I get up, slipping back down the hall and back into my own room, only to find that I spent 2 hours in my son's room. Had it really been that long? No, it couldn't have been. It was only a couple of minutes, I was sure of it. But then again, maybe I just needed some sleep. I sigh, letting myself drown into the soft, down comforter, and plushy mattress.

I close my eyes, and stare up at the back of my eyelids, watching it change colors before me.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"Baby... baby, I'm going to go take a shower, okay?" My husband, Robby, kisses me delicately on the neck, and I smile to myself, and nod.

A moment later, the loud drum of the shower echoes from the bathroom, and I roll over, grabbing the remote from my bedside table, and press power, aiming blindly toward the TV.

The TV automatically jumps on to the Today Show, Matt Lauer's voice going on about some sort of earthquake in Haiti, and I will myself to listen, though I can't.

It's Saturday, and I know I won't be able to operate fully until i have my coffee, and the whole family is up.

Sliding into my fuzzy slippers and bathrobe, I pad over to Charlie's room, and reach down to gently shake him awake.

"Gah!" I gasp, as my fingers touch his cold, pale skin. His eyes hang open, staring at the ceiling. His icy, lifeless body lay limp on the bed, and I shriek, and feel myself go light-headed.

"Robby!" I scream, and feel the room spin around me, the floor tilting toward me, and the far-away pain of my head hitting the floor.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"Anna? Anna, can you hear me?" Voices swim around me, but I am able to make out one familiar one, as I begin to recognize it; Dr. Smith. The town's local doctor at the hospital, and also my family's doctor ever since Charlie was born; as a matter of fact, he delivered Charlie himself.

I blink my eyes back to focus, wincing at the strong light of the hospital. The distinct smell of rubber gloves, medicine, and hand-sanitizer fills my nose, and I grimace as it reminds me of the many months I spent here for my chemo.

I am a cancer survivor; breast cancer if you want to be specific... I don't. Dr. Smith's greying, bearded face crinkles at his eyes, displaying a sad, regretful smile.

"Anna, you passed out. I'm going to test your reflexes, okay?" He replied cautiously, and I nod slowly. His rubber gloves snap near my ears, and I blink, as he shines a medical light into my eyes.

"What happened?" I demand, quickly sitting up, only to have the room spin around me, and Dr. Smith puts a hand on my back, steadying me. "Whoa, steady now. Easy now, honey." He replied soothingly, and put a cool cloth on my head, settling the headache I hadn't realized I had.

I blink, letting myself settle, before slowly rising up to a sitting position. "No. Tell. Me. Now." I hiss, glaring accusingly at Robby and Dr. Smith.

"Your son is dead. I am so sorry." Dr. Smith replied softly, and Robby looked down at the floor, trying not to cry for my sake, trying to be strong.

My breath left my lungs, leaving me gasping for air, to no success. "But- how-why-?!" I choke out, and Robby embraces me, holding my tightly to his chest, as I sob, hot tears running down my cheeks.

Your son is dead. Your son is dead. Your son is dead. Your son is dead.

The words fill my head, repeating themselves over and over. Over and over. Over and over.
I feel no need to live now. I know, I could have another child, but it wouldn't be the same. It wouldn't be my Charlie.

But I couldn't give up life; I couldn't do that to Robby. To my mother, father, and sister. No. I wouldn't. I would hang in, long enough for Robby.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The next few weeks flew by before my eyes, and before I knew it, it was the day of The Funeral. My sister, Kate, spent the past few weeks with me, and though I appreciated the thought, I spent most of my time holed up in my room, only coming out for meals.

I refused to see anybody except Robby, Kate, and my parents. It would be a closed-casket funeral.

Thank god for that. The glass window felt cool against my cheek, and I breath against it, fogging up the glass, despite the humidity in the air.

I felt nothing anymore. I loved no one. Except for Robby. But I missed my Charlie boy. The doctors said that he had a seizure in his sleep, and died painlessly and peacefully; he didn't suffer, they'd assured me.

But that didn't make much difference. He was gone. And I would never see him again. I run my tongue over my dry lips, and blink, but I don't really care. Kate is in the room with me, and the way she worries so, I have to assure her that I'm at least still functioning, though I'm not- not really.

I am numb, and I feel nothing; except for pain, regret, and sorrow.

Hi!

Elfwriter, what I can tell you right now is that this story is filled with a ton of wasted potential. It starts off with an interesting ideas and characters, but you don't really deliver on any of the aspects of the story. I feel like this deserves much more then what you've given it right now.

Let's take a look at your characters first, shall we? There's Anna, Charlie, Robby, and then the doctor. None of them felt relate-able of as fleshed out as I think that they should have. I'm not quite exactly sure how old Anna is supposed to be. I get the sense that she's supposed be at least in her early thirties, but she just acts like a teenager the way she screams and cries. Also, you mention that she had breast cancer, and I don't really know where you were going with that. First of all, breast cancer is rare and generally shows up in woman who are about forty years old or older. Second, I can't really see how it contributes anything to the plot. You cover it so briefly that the reader is left confused and wanting to know more about what happened to her.

I want to know more about her and her relationship with her child. Right now you build up to it so little, and we don't really feel anything when he goes. I think you just sort of assume that just because Charlie is her child that we should automatically sympathize. No, actually. Right now the reader is kind of like, "oh, that sucks," and then we walk away. I think that you need to have a lot more build-up to his death. Give us time in a regular day that they spend together so we can really see how close they are. That will also give you time to flesh out Robby's character and make him supportive so that we know that Anna will not be alone and that they can share their grief together.

One thing that left me spinning my head was Charlie's actual death. He's a perfectly healthy four year old. Anna didn't find anything suspicious in the room. So, how did he die? People don't just pass away, especially if they're young. Was it murder? Maybe you could address this and then write a second part with Anna and Robby trying to figure out what our who killed their son. Give us more a reaction in that scene for her to fully realize that he is dead before she faints. I also think that the funeral scene could be expanded upon a little bit more. Give the young couple a conversation that will be both sad, but shows they are optimistic toward the future.

Like I said before, I think that this could really be something. It just felt rushed, like you didn't think through the story enough and/or didn't know what you wanted to create. Really get into your character's head and give her a personality. Take your time and really immerse yourself in Anna's situation and her life.

PM me if you have questions.

-Elinor xo

Hi, I'm Emma and I'll be your reviewer

elfwriter97 wrote:My eyes fly open, and I look around, my husband's back presses against mine, as I prop up on my elbow, and I know in my gut that something's wrong with Charlie.

This sentence is very long, I'd put in some full stops e.g. 'My eyes fly open and I look around. My husband's back presses against mine, as I prop up on my elbow, and I know in my gut that something is wrong with Charlie.'

My palm touches the icy glass doorknob, and twist it open violently, tearing into Charlie's room, where he lay asleep in his bed.

Take out the commas I highlighted.

His spaceship quilt stops at his chin, tucking in around his neck, and I let out a sigh of relief.

My son, Charlie, is 4 years old now;

You should write numbers out in full, so 'four' instead of '4'.

My heart warms at the sight of him, and I sit down carefully next to him,

FYI: You rarely need commas before the word 'and', if ever.

I close my eyes, and stare up at the back of my eyelids, watching it change colors before me.

Remove comma again. Also, watching 'it' change colours doesn't pertain to the plural of eyelids, 'it' should be 'them'.

delicately on the neck, and I smile to myself, and nod.

I'm going to stop pointing out comma usage before the word 'and' now. Just go through the work and check that

It's Saturday, and I know I won't be able to operate fully until [color=#FF0000]i have my coffee, and the whole family is up.[/color]

Typo I think, but 'i' should be capitalised. Also, look at your use of paragraphs. Some of the sentences in this section could be merged into one paragraph. Try to only make a new paragraph when changing the topic, rather than for every other sentence,

"Gah!" I gasp,

Maybe this is just me, but I think it would be more powerful without the word 'Gah!' You can just say that she gasped, I don't think the onomatopeia is necessary.

His eyes hang open, staring at the ceiling. His icy, lifeless body lay limp on the bed, and I shriek, and feel myself go light-headed.

For more impact I wouls have a full stop after 'bed' and before 'I shriek' e.g. His icy, lifeless body lay limp on the bed. I shriek and feel myself go light-headed.

"Anna? Anna, can you hear me?" Voices swim around me, but I am able to make out one familiar one, as I begin to recognize it; Dr. Smith.

This sentence is a bit messy. I'd change it a bit, possibly by adding more to the sentence starting 'voices swim around me' (so have a bit more at the end of that), then a full stop, and the rest is another sentence.

I know, I could have another child, but it wouldn't be the same. It wouldn't be my Charlie.

I'd take out this line. It detracts from the emotion of the piece, which until noe you've built up quite well. But it's hard to believe that a mother who just lost their child would be convincing themselves they could have another one! Children aren't replacable, you have so much opportunity here to really pull at the heartstrings. Get involved with the character and really try to feel what she is feeling.

But I couldn't give up life; I couldn't do that to Robby. To my mother, father, and sister. No. I wouldn't. I would hang in, long enough for Robby.

I'm totally lost.... is she convincing herself not to commit suicide? Or does this have something to do with the cancer, which I thought was in remission? I think this needs a lot more explanation.

it was the day of The Funeral.

I don't think this needs to be captalised, the effect will still resonate with the reader.

My sister, Kate, spent the past few weeks with me,

Should be: My sister Kate spent the past few weeks with me,

Thank god for that. The glass window felt cool against my cheek, and I breath against it, fogging up the glass, despite the humidity in the air.

This seems like a random jump, I think you could link this more to the paragraph before by explaining how she got to wherever she is. Also, God is capitalised, you don;t need a comma before and, and it should be 'breathe'.

I felt nothing anymore. I loved no one. Except for Robby.

Before you said she also spoke to her sister and parents, surely she loves them too?

But I missed my Charlie boy. The doctors said that he had a seizure in his sleep, and died painlessly and peacefully; he didn't suffer, they'd assured me.

I think you should have all this explanation before the funeral description. Also, I'm sorry to say that seizures or not painless or peaceful. If you want a peaceful death, I suggets googling another one.

But that didn't make much difference. He was gone. And I would never see him again. I run my tongue over my dry lips, and blink, but I don't really care. Kate is in the room with me, and the way she worries so, I have to assure her that I'm at least still functioning, though I'm not- not really. I am numb, and I feel nothing; except for pain, regret, and sorrow.

The ending here is really good, but I think it should go before the mention of the funeral and you could bring that in now.


Overall

Hope I wasn't too harsh with the nitpicks! There is real potential here and minus a few grammatical errors there's a lot of good, flowing description that really sets the scene. I'd suggest now just going back to the piece and getting inside the character's head and just writing her emotions, which it seems like you'll be good at, we just need more. Don't forget to explain more about Charlie and Anna's conditions to explain them to the reader, and work on the structure a little bit.

Good job