The Need[1]

March 12, 2008


My skin is dry. I feel it hang off the bones, shedding off my fragile features. I can't breathe. My windpipe... oh, my breath is taken away ever so quickly. My stomach aches. Every time I breathe in, a hollow block fills my chest. I can't feel anything besides my...bones creaking. I can't think. My mind ignores my thoughts, I can't help myself. I'm...stuck.

I attempted to chug down a Pepsi today. I drank to the logo, nothing more, nothing less. I puked. The liquid fled it's desired homeland like a weak kitten fleeing a pit bull. I'm pathetic, I know. I can't...I can't force myself. I feel bad for my insides, my lungs, my heart. My stomach though, I feel no remorse for. I feel the acid burning it. It's eating itself.

I shouldn't have tried that Pepsi. I knew, I knew was allergic to citric acid.

****************


I kept my eyes glued to the floor as the lanky lady in front of me studied my journal with her beady brown eyes. She glued herself to my thoughts. I knew she enjoyed her job, but only because she enjoys hearing others private sufferings. She says it's confidential. I say she talks about my sessions with her bar buddies.

What's taking so long? I thought, drumming my fingers on my chair's metal structure. She has a college education, doesn't she? She's making fun of me, in her head, I know it...thinking how could someone feel this, thinking I'm lying..thinking I'm anorexic.
“Alida,” The woman set the junk notepad on her oak desk that separated the two of us.
“Joanna,” I responded, adjusting my chair so I was closer to the desk. I placed my hands on the desk and tapped my fingers, my short fingernails barely touching the wood. I felt her stern glare, despite my attempt at avoiding it. I knew she wasn't too happy when I used her first name.
“I know that it's in your nature to believe you are....sick-”
“Allergic.” I snapped.
“Right,” Ms. Joanna King sighed. “I...want to help you. I know what you think of me. I'm just someone your father and mother stuck you with, right?” I felt the urge to nod, but ignored it. Instead, turned my head towards the ceiling. The tiles were stained with water, creating sort of a reverse tie dye affect. I could hear Ms. King babbling, while in her mind convincing herself that she was getting through to me,or at least she was eventually going to get through to me.. I didn't want to ruin her hopeless attempt, so I occasionally nodded as if I was truly listening to her. While I didn't feel bad for her, I knew Ms. King did want to help. I just simply...refused any offering, because I didn't need the offering. I was just fine, thank you very much.

“Alida?” I dropped my head at the sound of my name. Ms. King had her arms in a triangle, her knuckles placed under her chin. She was smirking, or possibly smiling. I couldn't honestly tell the difference with her thin, chapped lips stretching her face.
“Yes?” I croaked out. I cringed at the sound of voice. I coughed harshly, then wiped my hands on my jeans.
“You're not listening at all, are you?”
“Not...particularly.” I said, shrugging my shoulders. She let out a gust of breath.
“You know you're family is paying for these sessions? We can't babble for an hour about how much you don't deserve to be here.” Ms. King took a deep breath, filling her lungs with the escaped air, gone from talking. “We need to...gather...” She pointed a neatly polished nail at me. “You need to rethink your outlook on what is happening here.”

Ms. King glanced at a patent leather watch on her spiny arm. “Our time is about over. Why don't you gather your things and have a few seconds to think to yourself?” She suggested. I nodded, and reached over her collection of family photographs to retrieve my journal. The flimsy book weighed nearly nothing in my hands, as I had torn out several pages due to the subjects written about on those pages. I didn't want to feel the temptation to read them; and honestly I knew my most recent page would hit the trash bin. It's just hard to look back on these sort of situations.

I sat in the hard plastic chair for a few more minutes before Ms. King dismissed me. I silently left her room and took my place in the hall way, waiting for my mother to pick me up as she returned home from her work as a nurse's assistant. I sat on the carpet floor, occasionally moving my feet for those who pass by. I'm never usually given any weird looks, since I'm sure there have been crazies in here before. It was just my weight that set me back in society. I wasn't mentally ill, just physically. I could handle thoughts and emotions well, although to tell the truth, I tend to bottle them up inside.
I heard my mother enter through the lobby door. I stand up, dust of my plaid shorts and baby doll white tee, and leave with her for a silent thirty minute drive home.

I liked the first part of this more than the second part, though all in all, I enjoyed it. I thought I might not like all the pauses in the beginning, all the "..."s, but it worked for the girl's mindset.

I knew, I knew was allergic to citric acid

I think there's a typo here. Either "I knew, I knew I was..." or "I knew I was..."

I kept my eyes glued to the floor as the lanky lady in front of me studied my journal with her beady brown eyes. She glued herself to my thoughts. I knew she enjoyed her job, but only because she enjoys hearing others private sufferings. She says it's confidential. I say she talks about my sessions with her bar buddies.

There's a tense change here. And then in the next paragraph you change it back. I understand that maybe you would like to maintain an idea that the girl is still, currently, participating in these sessions. In that case, I'd change "I knew she enjoyed her job..." to "I know she enjoys her job..." Enduring thoughts would be present and then the events would be past (like you are telling a story in the present, referring to the past).

I'm not sure if what I just wrote makes sense. I hope it does because i liked this story and with a few changes i think it could be really good!

Thank you for your review! I knew I did something wrong with the tenses, I just couldn't put my finger on it.

Also, yeah, the spelling mistake was my error. XD It was supposed to be "I knew, I knew I was allergic to citric acid." That was a whoops on my part. ^.^

LolitaRose wrote: My skin is dry. I feel it hang off the bones, shedding off my fragile features. I can't breathe. My windpipe... oh, my breath is taken away ever so quickly. My stomach aches. Every time I breathe in, a hollow block fills my chest. I can't feel anything besides my...bones creaking. I can't think. My mind ignores my thoughts, I can't help myself. I'm...stuck.

The very first impression I get is 'wow'. The description of this is amazing. I can picture it perfectly. This was very well written.

LolitaRose wrote:
I shouldn't have tried that Pepsi. I knew, I knew was allergic to citric acid.

I knew I was allergic?

LolitaRose wrote: She says it's confidential. I say she talks about my sessions with her bar buddies.

I liked how you wrote this

LolitaRose wrote:
“Alida,” The woman set the junk notepad on her oak desk that separated the two of us.

You are seriously brilliant at description. Even a simple line like this is just written so well. You don't overdo your descriptions, and they all work really well.


This was really well done. Both Alida and the therapist had depth to them, they were real, three-dimensional characters. I loved all of the description and the overall tone and style of the entire thing. Nice job!

-Carly

Hi there. Here as requested.

My skin is dry. I feel it hang off the bones, shedding off my fragile features. I can't breathe. My windpipe... oh, my breath is taken away ever so quickly. My stomach aches. Every time I breathe in, a hollow block fills my chest. I can't feel anything besides my...bones creaking. I can't think. My mind ignores my thoughts, I can't help myself. I'm...stuck.

Although this is great description, you use the three-dots (which I think are called ellipses) too much. It kind of ruins the effect. And also, the very last comma you use in this paragraph, between thoughts and I, should be a semicolon.

I knew, I knew was allergic to citric acid.

Should be "I knew I was" ?

I kept my eyes glued to the floor as the lanky lady in front of me studied my journal with her beady brown eyes. She glued herself to my thoughts. I knew she enjoyed her job, but only because she enjoys hearing others private sufferings. She says it's confidential. I say she talks about my sessions with her bar buddies.

Although that last sentence provides some comic relief, which is good, you change tenses, which is a no-no. Stay consistent!

“Alida,” The woman set the junk notepad on her oak desk that separated the two of us.

Since there's no "said" tag here, methinks that the comma after Alida should be a period.

Instead, turned my head towards the ceiling. [/quote
There should be an "I" between instead and turned.

I couldn't honestly tell the difference with her thin, chapped lips stretching her face.

I think you mean stretching across her face?

“Yes?” I croaked out. I cringed at the sound of voice.

At the sound of my voice?

"Not...particularly.” I said, shrugging my shoulders.

That period after particularly should be a comma. Also, I should say this now: you don't need any of the ellipses you have in your story. None of them. They actually take away from it, because they aren't used correctly. So I'd advise you to go back and edit all of them out.

I sat in the hard plastic chair for a few more minutes before Ms. King dismissed me. I silently left her room and took my place in the hall way, waiting for my mother to pick me up as she returned home from her work as a nurse's assistant. I sat on the carpet floor, occasionally moving my feet for those who pass by. I'm never usually given any weird looks, since I'm sure there have been crazies in here before. It was just my weight that set me back in society. I wasn't mentally ill, just physically. I could handle thoughts and emotions well, although to tell the truth, I tend to bottle them up inside.

I heard my mother enter through the lobby door. I stand up, dust of my plaid shorts and baby doll white tee, and leave with her for a silent thirty minute drive home.

Bah, more tense changes! I'd stick with past tense.


Alright, personally, I don't feel that this chapter is long enough to stand on its own. Add some more depth to your characters. As it is, it'd work better as a prologue.

Hey there. This is my first critique on this site - and I'll try not to repeat things that the other reviewers have said.

My skin is dry. I feel it hang off the bones, shedding off my fragile features. I can't breathe. My windpipe... oh, my breath is taken away ever so quickly. My stomach aches. Every time I breathe in, a hollow block fills my chest. I can't feel anything besides my...bones creaking. I can't think. My mind ignores my thoughts, I can't help myself. I'm...stuck.

All the '...'s seem a little awkward to me - I think you could fix it by adding a space after each instance, as with 'My windpipe... oh'. Perhaps it's just me, but it seems awkward.
I do like the description here, though; very vivid. c:

The liquid fled it's desired homeland

'The liquid fled its desired homeland'

I kept my eyes glued to the floor as the lanky lady in front of me studied my journal with her beady brown eyes.

How can your protagonist know that the woman is studying her journal, and has 'beady brown eyes', if she is looking at the floor?

enjoys hearing others private

'hearing others' private'

She says it's confidential. I say she talks about my sessions with her bar buddies.

What's taking so long? I thought, drumming my fingers on my chair's metal structure. She has a college education, doesn't she? She's making fun of me, in her head, I know it...thinking how could someone feel this, thinking I'm lying..thinking I'm anorexic.

Er, you jump tenses quite a lot here; try to stick to either one or the other? (Past would work best, I think.)

“Alida,” The woman

' “Alida.” The woman'

The woman set the junk notepad on her oak desk that separated the two of us.

Again – if your protagonist is watching the floor, she would be unable to say precisely what the woman was doing, I’d expect?

“Allergic.” I snapped.

‘ “Allergic,” I snapped.’

Instead, turned my head

‘Instead, I turned my head’

She was smirking, or possibly smiling. I couldn't honestly tell the difference with her thin, chapped lips stretching her face.

Ahhhh, I loved the imagery here. Very nicely done. c:

the sound of voice.

‘the sound of [the/my] voice.’

you're family is paying

‘your family is paying’

Ms. King took a deep

If your character thinks of her as ‘Joanna’, then you should refer to her as such – I doubt that your character would call her ‘Joanna’ to her face, but think of her in terms of ‘Ms. Joanna King’ and ‘Ms. King’.

Ms. King took a deep breath, filling her lungs with the escaped air, gone from talking.

This seems really awkward and forced. Just ‘took a deep breath, filling her lungs.’ would work – or even just ‘took a deep breath.’

yourself?” She suggested.

‘yourself?” she suggested.’

I heard my mother enter through the lobby door. I stand up, dust of my plaid shorts and baby doll white tee, and leave with her for a silent thirty minute drive home.

‘I heard my mother enter through the lobby door. I stood up, dusted off my plaid shorts and baby doll white tee, and left with her for a silent thirty minutes drive home.’


Overall, I quite enjoyed reading this, although I would like to see further character development for the silent mother and the almost-stereotypical therapist; they just seem like two-dimensional, rather than real characters, at the moment.

Thank you both for reviewing my work!

Bah, my eyes tend to skip over things that could be easily changed to fit correctly. For example, tenses. I do have a problem with staying in a certain one. That's for sure something I need to work on.

Oh, and just a thought, since it has been mentioned that this is rather short; would this work better as, for example, Chapter One, Part 1? I can easily blend what I've written of chapter two into just an expansion of chapter one.