In The Darkness

5 posts
User avatar
Gender Other
Points 1503
Reviews 81
Sophie didn't remember much about hospital. What she did remember was a vague collection of scents and sounds and sensations. The sharp smell of disinfectant, the wailing of other kids in her ward when they couldn't sleep, the quick, but painful, stabs of needles in her arms. Voices, saying they were the nurse, the night nurse, the doctor, her mother. Most of all she remembered the darkness, and she remembered them telling her that the darkness wouldn't go away. She remembered phrases like; permanently blinded, Braille, and guide dog.

She hadn't wanted to go home; to know that all of her old life was right in front of her, hidden just out of sight. She'd cried when her mum talked about going back to school. While mum hugged her and said they'd find a new school, if she wanted, Sophie had wondered why her eyes still let her cry, but didn't let her see.

The drive home felt familiar. Sophie curled up against the car door and didn't answer her mum's awkward attempts at conversation. She concentrated, feeling every round-about, every speed-bump. Every turn in the road.

Her mum opened the car door for her, undid her seatbelt, and took her hand.

"Careful Sophie, there's a step here."

"I know, mum, we've lived here for like, ten years."

"I'll just let go of your hand to open the door now."

"Okay, I'm not going to fall over or anything."

There was the familiar creak of the front door. Sophie snatched her hand away as her mother tried to hold it again, and walked inside by memory. She heard little, plodding footsteps coming nearer.

"Sophie?" Her little brother pronounced her name with a mixture of excitement and caution, as though he wasn't sure.

"Hi Timmy." She answered, holding out her hands. He took one, almost fearfully. She tickled him with the other and he giggled, instantly at ease with her again.
"Sophie! Sophie, come look! Come see what I made, Sophie!"

Sophie heard her mum's voice again, a piercing whisper, as Timmy started tugging at her hand. "Tim, you know Sophie can't..."

"Leave him alone mum! It's okay!" She pulled her hand away and headed to the stairs, without even thinking about it.

"Sophie! That's the stairs! Just let me help you..."

"No!" The single syllable came out louder than she'd intended. "No, mum, I'm fine. I've walked down these in the dark heaps of times, it's just the same."

She reached out her hand and grabbed hold of the banister. She felt the wood, smooth against her skin, as she slid her hand down. One step at a time. At first she headed for her room, but she changed her mind as she felt a cool breeze blowing through the screen door. She ran her hand along the wall until she located the latch, then slipped outside, keeping one hand on the course bricks of the outside wall.

Far above her, Sophie could hear the branches of the gum trees thrashing and creaking violently, and she could smell a storm approaching on the wind. Sophie stepped back uncertainly and leant against the wall. Her eyes flickered uselessly from side to side, trying hopelessly to catch some glimpse of her surroundings. Suddenly the permanent night that was her new world seemed oppressively full of dark creatures, always just out of sight.

Sophie started and almost cried out as she felt something touch her face. Once, then again, and again. She reached up and felt something wet on her cheek. She breathed out slowly as the raindrops trickled down her face. She could hear the rain now, pattering down all around her. Whipped in every direction by the fierce, unruly wind. The growl of thunder far overhead sent a thrill through her body.

Suddenly resolute, Sophie thrust herself away from the wall. She ran forward, guided only by faint memories. The garden hose, hiding deep in the grass, snatched at her foot and she fell, tumbling onto the lawn. She giggled as she felt its prickly wetness against her skin. Rolling back to her feet she ran on.

Just a few more steps. There!

Sophie's outstretched hand met with the tire swing; the worn, wet rubber warming to her touch. Her feet pushed at the ground a few times more, then she was swinging, madly, through the darkness. She closed her eyes, finally making them end their pointless search for light. Then she threw back her head and smiled as the air rushed past her.

Around Sophie the storm raged on.

The storm was the smell of the humidity, and the tension in the air. It was the taste of raindrops on her tongue. The malevolent fury of thunder, screaming out above her. The cool wetness of rain, sliding over her skin, soaking her clothes. The wind pulling and dragging at her hair as it streamed out behind her.

Sophie laughed as she shivered with cold. Laughed for the joy of feeling anything at all.

She laughed when she realised that she could no longer tell which direction was the house, the fence. The ground.

The harsh harmonies of the storm sang out around, and above, and below her. And Sophie flew.

----------------------------------------------------------
I had to write this short story for school using the quote "resolve to be a master of change, rather than a victim of change" as inspiration. I was fairly happy with how it turned out. Although, as you can probably tell, I was cramming the techniques in there on purpose to impress the marker, which I do not like doing.

Anyway, any comments and suggestions or constructive criticisms you have would be awesome!
Thanks for reading!!!
-pigeon
Last edited by Pigeon on Fri Jul 02, 2010 5:31 am, edited 1 time in total.
Reader, what are you doing?





User avatar
Gender Female
Points 49725
Reviews 155
Hey Pigeon! I, Esther Sylvester, shall be reviewing you today.

This was excellent. You captured the feel of being blind almost perfectly. Also, your descriptions are excellent. There were a few things that I found awkward, that didn't seem to fit, but I thouroughly enjoyed it nonetheless.


While mum clumsily hugged her and said they'd find a new school, if she wanted, Sophie had wondered why her eyes still let her cry, but didn't let her see.


The word "clumsily" doesn't seem to fit here. I think a mother could hug her child wether she was blind or not. If you are trying to describe that the mother feels uncomfortable, show it to us.

"Sophie! Sophie, come look! Come see what I made, Sophie!"

Sophie heard her mum's voice again, a piercing whisper, as Timmy started tugging at her hand. "Tim, you know Sophie can't..."

"Leave him alone mum! It's okay!" She pulled her hand away and headed to the stairs, without even thinking about it.


Excellently written, here. Very emotional. Put a comma where I bolded though, so the sentence isn't misread as something else.

This is great, well done. My issue is that you could have made it more visible that Sophie accepted her blindness, since that was what the writing assignment was about, but that's pretty much it. For once, I like the short but sweet feel to it. I think you should just read it over and see if there are any awkward parts. Keep it up!

-Esther
It's writing prompt week on my blog a very random pickle!:
http://veryrandompickle.blogspot.com/




User avatar
Gender Other
Points 1503
Reviews 81
Thank you so much!!!
That's really helpful and I will change the things you pointed out.
The idea with the 'clumsily' was to show how uncomfortable Sophie's mum is, but I'll change it to something else since it doesn't work. I wasn't sure how to show that, and I never like to just say "they felt like this". I'll try to work something out :)

Thanks again!
-pigeon
Reader, what are you doing?





User avatar
Gender Female
Points 2608
Reviews 86
I REALLY enjoyed this. I have no nit piks.
Great work, keep it up!
Born
xx
:D




User avatar
Gender Other
Points 1503
Reviews 81
Thank you!!!
:D
Reader, what are you doing?




That's how we should measure our lives. Not in distance traveled, or time passed, or worlds conquered, but in moments... and the rush of joy—of grace—that exists within them.
— Megatron (Lost Light, by Roberts, Lawrence, Lafuente)