Good Morning/Afternoon/Evening/Night(whichever one it is in your part of the world),
Hi! I'm here to leave a quick review!!
Anyway let's get right to it,
This is the diary of I, a girl whose name is whatever you want it to be. Names are an impermanent label in this line of business; you are known by how you perform, every day of the week.
Some people call it a dirty business, and they’d be right. To labour in cheap, badly furnished bedrooms is to labour under no illusions; I knew where I was going right from the start. Stories of young, innocent girls seduced into selling their souls give charities someone to feel sorry for. Occasionally even someone to save. Too often, a pimp’s is not the only business-oriented mind behind a girl’s downfall.
Okay... well this is an interesting start. Certainly one that catches us readers by quite a bit of surprise here. I wasn't expecting anything along these lines really and that's always a good thing to see in a story, have something take this very surprising that is just normally no where most things would go. So....solid start here, I can't wait to see quite what this means.
There is an advantage to not having dreams. You find, after a while, that the places you have to be look better without an overlay of the places you could be. The hardest part is learning to forget a bright-eyed eighteen-year-old, fresh out of high school. She might be me. I wouldn’t bet on it anymore. Eighteen, sixteen, fourteen: age means nothing to you unless it means something to them; no-one minds if you look your age, as long as your age means good looks.
Night-time is the worst. The endless parade of mental ghosts come seeking solace at the witching hour, each one demanding their full portion of regret paid out in tears. Not ideal when you have to look your alluring, unrepentant best for all that seek to be served, dawn ‘till dusk. Whatever the hell my best amounts to anymore. ‘Practice makes perfect’ is a joke I hear tossed around, but the reality is that you don’t need any re-runs to get things right around here. It’s not like you’re given a choice, in any case; second chances are just wishful thinking. My days are spent wallowing in people who’ve missed their boats in life, and being wallowed in return; boats and bridges, I’ve burned them all if they offered a way back.
Hmm this really dives deep into the emotional turmoil here and I love it. I think you've done an excellent job of really sort of selling the mental state of this person without really going too far as to have it all be very on the nose and exposit too much. This little aura of mystery instead of that is doing a much more powerful job of directing this piece where its going and so far I'm loving it.
‘When rape is unavoidable,’ the Japanese say, ‘sit back and enjoy it.’ I’ve never had a problem with that, actually; it’s only thing that gets me through some of the worst days. But somewhere, still, in that part of me that won’t sit back, and never enjoys, there is a thought. Not a hope, for it is not allowed to be. Only an admission that once upon a time, this could have been avoided; that maybe someone out there has a name I can keep. An unuttered prayer, to whoever is still listening: may avoidance not yet have wholly avoided me.
This is the diary of I. What will you make her today?
Well that is a powerful ending there. I especially loved that line at the end. Its just ever so powerful and I really love where you've gone with it. I think it sums this whole idea up beautifully here. One of those rare occasions where we've got a piece this small addressing a situation that big and actually nailing it right on the head.
Aaaaand that's it for this one.
As always remember to take what you think was helpful and forget the rest.
Stay Safe
Harry
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Reviews: 4100
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