Reflection

How long have you been asleep? What time was it? The red glare of the clock blinks 7:42. You groan. You are late for "work," as you call it. You stumble into the bathroom and pull off your casual clothes. Your "uniform" lays askew in the bathtub, where you spent the night scrubbing out vomit and blood.


You stand in front of the mirror, unabashed from seeing yourself stark naked. This is a ritual for you, to see how much you've changed from that country girl who came here a year ago. Your hands unconsciously trace your ribs as your eyes examine your bony shoulders. They're shaking, but they do that every now and again. You lightly touch the bruises he left as your hands go up to your face. It's hollow, devoid of feeling. You got what you wanted, a blank slate to write on. To be someone else. Now you're stuck like this, with the sort of emptiness of the defeated in battle.


You wipe the powder from your nose. Was it only a few hours ago that you were in oblivion? Your head feels like it may explode now. You clutch the sink as you hurl. The salty blood is in the back of your mouth, a reward from "Daddy" no doubt about it.


You put on your mask of colors; black eyeliner and cover-up solves the black eyes and bloodied face. You wipe off the dust from the "uniform" and pull the skirt down over you. You tug at it so it can cover yourself while you walk to your corner. You pull the shirt on next and hide the pattern of bruises quite well under it. You are now "Silver" and you will do anything to please.


I have to give you credit though. After all the ridiculous shit you do for your "dust", you can still look at your reflection and smile. It makes me sick.

I have to commend you. For you did something that most people try to avoid.
You used second person.
( You blank blank, then you blank blank)
Very bold, and it works so far.
It is an opportunity for a lot of description, and it works because the story is titled "Reflection", but be careful.

From the writer's Handbook
1998 edition
Whose Viewpoint?
by Gail Radley
"Some viewpoints are rarely used-second person, for example, which seems quirky and may annoy the reader:

You phone your mother. She starts nagging again, and suddenly you don't care if you ever see her again. You slam down the receiver.
..."

It goes on to say that the reader may feel offended, because they feel like they have a wonderful relationship with their mother, or may not agree with some of the actions the main character takes.
Bottom line, it is hard to use second person, because it may annoy and even offend the reader. i am not telling you to change the point of view, but i just want you to be careful.
You have a good and interesting beginning, but you run the risk of offending the reader.
Switching to first or third person gives the main character's actions and independence from the reader, so the reader doesn't feel like they are committing the action, especially if they don't agree with it or they aren't he same gender as the main character.

other than that, good beginning!
-----------------------
-jojo.

Hi paperback! Welcome to YWS!
Comments in #FF0000 ">red.

How long have you been asleep? What time was it? The red glare of the clock blinks 7:42. You groan. You are late for "work," as you call it. You stumble into the bathroom and pull off your casual clothes. Your "uniform" lays askew in the bathtub, where you spent the night scrubbing out vomit and blood. #FF0000 ">Ack!


You stand in front of the mirror, unabashed from seeing yourself stark naked. This is a ritual for you, to see how much you've changed from that country girl who came here a year ago. Your hands #FF0000 ">unconsciously trace your ribs as your eyes examine your bony shoulders. They're shaking, but they do that every now and again. You lightly touch the bruises he left #FF0000 ">as your hands go up to your face. It's hollow, devoid of feeling. You got what you wanted, a blank slate. #FF0000 ">Why does she want a blank slate? The sort of emptiness of the defeated in battle.


You wipe the powder from your nose. Was it only a few hours ago that you were in oblivion? Your head feels like it may explode now. You clutch the sink as you hurl. The salty blood is in the back of your mouth, a reward from "Daddy" no doubt about it. #FF0000 ">Who is Daddy? Is she referring to God?


You put on your mask of colors; black eyeliner and cover-up solves the black eyes and bloodied face. You wipe off the dust from the "uniform" and pull the skirt down over you. You tug at it so it can cover yourself while you walk to your corner. You pull the shirt on next and hide the pattern of bruises quite well under it. You are now "Silver" and you will do anything to please.


I have to give you credit though. After all the ridiculous shit you do for your "dust", you can still look at your reflection and smile. It makes me sick.

This piece was pretty good. I didn't realize it was a prostitute until near the end, but that's probably what you were going for. Or maybe I'm just slow. Is the puking from the drugs? I was a little confused by that, but it makes sense, considering her situation. Anyway, I don't have much else to say, it was short and to the point. Kinda like this review.