Hold your breath.

Short Story

Published July 23, 2011

I haven't written anything worth while in a long time. Comments, and criticism are accepted!

I told myself that this was all some kind of sick, twisted game. I told myself that this wasn't happening. It was all just in my head.

I saw colors exploding all around me, saw the small tendrils of air split through the warm air in the green room I sat in. I heard the laughter of my friends in the room and shrugged the feeling off, decided this would work better if I was relaxed and wasn't an uptight bitch.

I took a breath of what was offered to me.

Inhale...

Exhale..

I felt myself drifting, getting higher, and not backing down. I felt myself becoming more and more adrift. Laughter that was my own, but I couldn't recognize the girl who laughed. Speaking but I didn't know the owner of the voice.

Hold your breath. It's OK. The monster called to me from deep within my mind. This is going to be over soon. Hold your breath.

I took one more deep, thought-slowing breath. Felt my diaphragm expand in my abdomen. Felt the smoke fill my lungs, and smother me. But I held my breath, just like the monster suggested in my head.

I felt my world tilt, and spin in front of me, nothing making sense anymore. I didn't know which way is up, or which way is down. I began to hear my heart thumping in my chest at the sudden terror building in my chest. And that was the last thing I remember before everything went char-coal black in front of my eyes.

*****

Slowly, but surely I began to awaken. My breath feeling labored in my chest.

Inhale...Exhale.

Inhale...exhale, slowly.

My heart beat is just barely there as I feel the small dip above my collar bone where I can best find my pulse.

thump. thump-thump.

I can feel the terror rising stiffly in my throat. And then come the tears when I look around the room I am in. Obviously a man's room.

I don't remember coming here.

I smell marijuana, blood, and alcohol, all filling my nostrils with the grotesque odor. A shiver runs down my back

Where am I? Where am I?

What happened? What day is it?

Don't you remember, Amanda? You came and partied with me. The monster whispers sadistically from the back of my mind, and then I hear it. The laughter of my friends. The laughter of the monster in my head.

The tears break free and run down my face, smearing my mascara down my cheeks, and dripping some of the black, salty liquid onto my white blouse.

There is a knock on the door, and a dark figure enters slowly. It enters and all I see are burning red eyes filled with malice and hate. I become silent. My heart pounds loudly against the inside of my chest, and I fear that the figure can hear me, but I still do not speak or dare to move.

The monster in my head is roaring with laughter, and the vile sound of it is enough to make another hot tear streak its way down my face, leaving a burning sensation in its wake.

Come party again. Hold your breath one more time, Amanda. Hold your breath.

*****

I bolt up right on my bed, sweat dampening my entire body, tears on my face. Heart rate insanely quick.

The rain is gently slithering against my window; a crack of lightning across the sky, and the rain begins to pelt itself faster against the thin pane of glass.

My breathing is labored and I strain to see through the darkness of the room to check of where I am.

I'm home. I'm in my room.

I don't relax for an entire hour. I am just as I woke up; alert, terrified, and listening to the rain tap against my window. The bed is soaked in sweat, as are my clothes, which are clinging to me like a clammy second skin.

I sighed after the hour mark hit and raked a hand through my thick hair, and hoped to get some sleep tonight. I looked over to my clock, which read this in bright red numbers: 2:48 am.

I got up, turned the lights on, and looked myself in the mirror above the dresser that held on top of it my looking glass ball.

Dead eye contact. I stared and spoke softly.

"You're past that, Amanda. It is over. You have a future ahead; you have med school. No more monster. You're past this. I promise to take care of you."

I finally began to deepen my breath, slow my heart rate.

I hadn't been this terrified in years, at least not from this dream. Not since I was a little girl and still thought monsters were under my bed. Still, the fact that I had had that dream again put me in an uneasy state of mind. I turned away from the mirror.

You aren't past me. You never will be. Because some part of you will always love the feeling I give you. Some part of you, the party-go Amanda, will always crave me. Whispered the monster. And there is nothing you can do about it. Again with the laughter, and again with the shiver up my spine and tears on my face.

I look back over my shoulder, through the mirror and see the dark figure from my dream; the red eyes, the darkness of it. I do not turn away or look behind me. I know its really there. It's the monster.

"Hello, Amanda." The being cackles evilly.

"Go to hell, you fucker!" I picked up the glass ball, which I easily wrapped my hand around the heavy weighted object and hurled it at the mirror. And just before the glass ball made contact with the mirror, the being grew wide eyes of terror, of defeat and became trapped inside the mirror as it shattered. The millions of tiny glass pieces crashed to the floor, and I knew the monster was gone from my sight and my mind.

"I'm in control, not you." I whispered softly at the glass shards.

Hold your breath. And die for me, monster.

Comments & reviews · 5

Synnoev

Review

Synnoev wrote a review Review · Jul 25, 2011

I told myself that this was all some kind of sick, twisted game. I told myself that this wasn't happening. It was all just in my head.

I saw colors exploding all around me, saw the small tendrils of air split through the warm air in the green room I sat in. I heard the laughter of my friends in the room and shrugged the feeling off, decided this would work better if I was relaxed and wasn't an uptight bitch.

I took a breath of what was offered to me.

Inhale...

Exhale..

I felt myself drifting, getting higher, and not backing ~~myself~~ down. I felt myself becoming more and more adrift. Laughter that was my own, but I didn't recognize the girl who laughed. (I feel like this last bit comes across quite convoluted - maybe 'but that I didn't/couldn't recognise.' would flow better?) Speaking but I didn't know the owner of the voice.

Hold your breath. It's OK. The monster called to me from deep within my mind. This is going to be over soon. Hold your breath.

I take one more deep, thought-slowing breath. Feel my diaphragm expand in my abdomen. Feel the smoke fill my lungs, and smother me. But I hold my breath, just like the monster suggests in my head. The tense has changed to present.

I feel my world tilt, and spin in front of me, nothing making sense anymore. I don't know which way is up, or which way is down. I began to hear my heart thumping in my chest at the sudden terror building in my chest. And that was the last thing I remember before everything went char-coal black in front of my eyes.

*****
I skipped out this bit cause it was all very good =D

*****

I bolt upright on my bed, sweat dampening my entire body, tears on my face. Heart rate insanely quick.

The rain is gently slithering ("pattering"? Although that said, I do like the snake-y imagery here so ...) against my window; a crack of lightning across the sky, and the rain begins to pelt itself faster against the thin pane of glass.

My breathing is labored and I strain to see through the darkness of the room to check of where I am.

I'm home. I'm in my room.

I don't relax for an entire hour. I am just as I woke up; alert, terrified, and listening to the rain tap against my window. The bed is soaked in sweat, as are my clothes, ~~which are~~ clinging to me like a clammy second skin.

I sighed after the hour mark hit and raked a hand through my thick hair, and hoped to get some sleep tonight. I looked over to my clock, which read this in bright red numbers: 2:48 am. (Tense has changed to past from present)

I got up, turned the lights on, and looked myself in the mirror above the dresser that held on top of it my looking glass ball.

Dead eye contact. I stared and spoke softly.

"You're past that, Amanda. It is over. You have a future ahead; you have med school. No more monster. You're past this. I promise to take care of you."

I finally began to deepen my breath, slow my heart rate.

I hadn't been this terrified in years, at least not from this dream. Not since I was a little girl and still thought monsters were under my bed. Still, the fact that I had had that dream again put me in an uneasy state of mind. I turned away from the mirror.

You aren't past me. You never will be. Because some part of you will always love the feeling I give you. Some part of you, the party-go Amanda, will always crave me, whispered the monster. And there is nothing you can do about it. Again with the laughter, and again with the shiver up my spine and tears on my face.

I look back over my shoulder, through the mirror and see the dark figure from my dream; the red eyes, the darkness of it. I do not turn away or look behind me. I know it's really there. It's the monster.

"Hello, Amanda." The being cackles evilly.

"Go to hell, you fucker!" I picked up the glass ball, (which was easily five to eight pounds) (This information seems a bit irrelevant ... maybe if you wanted to describe it's weight you could do so in a more subtle way, like describing how it weighs in her hands or something) and hurled it at the mirror. And just before the glass ball made contact with the mirror, the being grew wide eyes of terror, of defeat and became trapped inside the mirror as it shattered. The millions of tiny glass pieces crashed to the floor, and I knew the monster was gone from my sight and my mind.

"I'm in control, not you." I whispered softly at the glass shards.

Hold your breath. And die for me, monster.

Hey! I really really liked this piece; the repetition of the line 'hold you breath' worked really well, and I especially liked how you tied it in at the end!

Overall this was really powerful and emotional and the concept was really good =] Occasionally I think the syntax came across a tad strange, but I pointed that out whenever it happened above, and generally you have a good way of building tension with the sentence fragments and whatnot

See you around the site, and I look forward to seeing more of your writing!

Jelen

Review

Jelen wrote a review Review · Jul 25, 2011

My first review here, so take it all with a grain of salt, if you would. Also, if you could excuse any language difficulties...English is not my native tongue!

I told myself that this was all some kind of sick, twisted game. I told myself that this wasn't happening. It was all just in my head.

I saw colors exploding all around me, saw the small tendrils of air split through the warm air in the room. I heard the laughter of my friends in the room and shrugged the feeling off, decided this would work better if I was relaxed and wasn't an uptight bitch.

This first part is very engaging. The only suggestion I have, specifically, is that you go through your second paragraph and vary your language a little bit. You are repeating simple words like "air" and "room," and if you smooth everything out you won't have to. I also felt like the "uptight bitch" phrase was a little out of place. We don't really have a good sense of your pacing yet and so it jars the reader and interrupts the flow.

I took a breath of what was offered to me.

Inhale...

Exhale..

I felt myself drifting, getting higher, and not backing myself down. I felt myself becoming more and more adrift. Laughter that was my own, but I didn't recognize the girl who laughed. Speaking but I didn't know the own of the voice.

You are repeating yourself again. The "I felt" here distances the reader a little bit, where a direct sentence might work better.

Hold your breath. It's OK. The monster called to me from deep within my mind. This is going to be over soon. Hold your breath.

I take one more deep, thought slowing breath. Feel my diaphragm expand in my abdomen. Feel the smoke fill my lungs, thick, making me feel like I'm being smothered. But I hold my breath, just like the monster suggests in my head.

And that was the last thing I remember before everything went char-coal black in front of my eyes.

You changed tenses here (by mistake, I assume).

*****

Slowly, but surely I began to awaken. My breath feeling labored in my chest.

Inhale...

Exhale.

Inhale.

...exhale, slowly.

My heart beat is just barely there as I feel the small dip above my collar bone where I can best find my pulse.

thump..

thump-thump.

thump. thump-thump.

I can feel the terror rising stiffly in my throat. And then come the tears when I look around the room I am in. Obviously a man's room.

I don't remember coming here.

I smell marijuana, blood, and alcohol, all filling my nostrils with the grotesque odor. A shiver runs down my back

Where am I?

Where am I?

What happened?

What day is it?

These short, rhetorical sentences are effective for a little while, but I think you have over-used your dramatic license here. It is meant to be intense, but it just seems overdone this way.

Don't you remember, Amanda? You came and partied with me. The monster whispers sadistically from the back of my mind, and then I hear it. The laughter of my friends. The laughter of the monster in my head.

I let the tears break free and run down my face, smearing my mascara down my cheeks, and dripping some of the black, salty liquid onto my white blouse.

There is a knock on the door, and a dark figure enters slowly. It enters and all I see are burning red eyes filled with malice and hate. I become silent. My heart pounds loudly against the inside of my chest, and I fear that the figure can hear me, but I still do not speak or dare to move.

The monster allusion, and especially this "dark, red-eyed figure" are striking me as a little bit cliched. I know you are building momentum, here, but I would be careful not to fall back on what you are familiar with.

The monster in my head is roaring with laughter, and the vile sound of it in my mind is enough to make another hot tear streak its way down my face, leaving a burning sensation in its wake.

Come party again. Hold your breath one more time, Amanda. Hold your breath.

*****

I bolt up right from my bed, sweat dampening my entire body, tears on my face. Heart rate insanely too fast. The rain is pelting gently against my window; a crack of lightning across the sky, and the pace of the rain picks itself up.

My breathing is labored and I look through the darkness of the room to check of where I am.

I'm home. I'm in my room.

I don't relax for an entire hour. I am just as I woke up; alert, terrified, and listening to the rain tap against my window. The bed is soaked in sweat, as are my clothes in which I fell asleep in.

I sighed after the hour mark hit and raked a hand through my thick hair, and hoped to get some sleep tonight. I looked over to my clock, which read in bright read numbers: 2:48 am.

You switched tenses again.

I got up, turned my bed room light on, and looked myself in the mirror above the dresser that held on top of it my looking glass ball.

Dead eye contact. I stared and spoke softly.

"You're past that, Amanda. It is over. You have a future ahead; you have med school. No more monster. You're past this. I promise to take care of you."

I finally began to deepen my breath, slow my heart rate.

I hadn't been this terrified in years. Not since I was a little girl and still thought monsters were under my bed. I turned away from the mirror.

You aren't past me. You never will be. Because some part of you will always love the feeling I give you. Some part of you, the party-go Amanda, will always crave me. Whispered the monster. And there is nothing you can do about it. Again with the laughter, and again with the shiver up my spine and tears on my face.

I look back over my shoulder and see the dark figure from my dream; the red eyes, the darkness of it. I do not turn away or look behind me. I know its really there. It's the monster.

"Hello, Amanda." The being cackles evilly.

"Go to hell, you fucker!" I picked up the glass ball, which was easily five to eight pounds and hurled it at the mirror. And just before the glass ball made contact with the mirror, the being grew wide eyes of terror, of defeat and became trapped inside the mirror as it shattered.

This is confusing. The whole time we get the impression that this being is a metaphorical construct, and all of a sudden, you have shifted it and made it tangible. I don't see a problem with that, but the speed at which you made the transition is difficult. I also think you might benefit from lengthening this conflict. It seems to me that she almost accidentally defeats it.

"I'm in control not you." I whispered softly at the glass shards.

Hold your breath. And die for me, monster.

This last line is excellent.

Overall, I think this is really well-written. Obviously it could benefit from a little fleshing out, but so could everything else. You've got a good concept here that is worth exploring, and your writing style is really very nice. I do think that it is a little confusion, especially in the dream, where the creature enters--I didn't realize until the end that the monster had an external manifestation at all (and thus categorized them separately).

Nice work!

mparq

Review

mparq wrote a review Review · Jul 24, 2011

This piece was so mind-numbingly intense. It reminded me of a movie I recently watched, Black Swan, which was haunting to say the least. I'll go line-by-line and correct any grammatical errors first of all (not many, thankfully) and come back with my review and general impressions.

ASH1397 wrote:I haven't written anything worth while in a long time. Comments, and criticism are accepted!

I told myself that this was all some kind of sick, twisted game. I told myself that this wasn't happening. It was all just in my head.
I saw colors exploding all around me, saw the small tendrils of air split through the warm air in the room. I want even more imagery here. Am I allowed to be picky?I heard the laughter of my friends in the room and shrugged the feeling off, decided this would work better if I was relaxed and wasn't an uptight bitch.
I took a breath of what was offered to me.
Inhale...
Exhale..
I felt myself drifting, getting higher, and not backing myself down. I felt myself becoming more and more adrift. Laughter that was my own, but I didn't recognize the girl who laughed. Speaking but I didn't know the owner of the voice.
Hold your breath. It's OK. The monster called to me from deep within my mind. This is going to be over soon. Hold your breath.

I take one more deep, thought slowingconnect thought and slowing with hyphen breath. Feel my diaphragm expand in my abdomen. Feel the smoke fill my lungs, thick, making me feel like I'm being smothered. Instead of "being smothered" try to twist words into making the smoke "smother" narratorBut I hold my breath, just like the monster suggests in my head.
And that was the last thing I remember before everything went char-coal black in front of my eyes. A picky person might ask for more out of this sentence. Vision can fade, the world can fade, one can plunge into char-coal darkness. Picky, picky.

*****

Slowly, but surely I began to awaken. My breath feeling labored in my chest.
Inhale...
Exhale.
Inhale.
...exhale, slowly.
My heart beat is just barely there as I feel the small dip above my collar bone where I can best find my pulse.
thump..
thump-thump.
thump. thump-thump. I liked reading this part out loud
I can feel the terror rising stiffly in my throat. And then come the tears when I look around the room I am in. Obviously a man's room.
I don't remember coming here.
I smell marijuana, blood, and alcohol, all filling my nostrils with thea grotesque odor. A shiver runs down my back
Where am I?
Where am I?
What happened?
What day is it?
Don't you remember, Amanda? You came and partied with me. The monster whispers sadistically Ah, that sadistic monster from the back of my mind, and then I hear it. The laughter of my friends. The laughter of the monster in my head.
I let the tears break free and run down my face, smearing my mascara down my cheeks, and dripping some of the black, salty liquid onto my white blouse. Nice job with imagery here. Black tears on white blouse. Symbolic of a loss of purity?
There is a knock on the door, and a dark figure enters slowly. It enters and all I see are burning red eyes filled with malice and hate. I become silent. My heart pounds loudly against the inside of my chest, and I fear that the figure can hear me, but I still do not speak or dare to move.

The monster in my head is roaring with laughter, and the vile sound of it in my mindI feel as if it's not quite redundant but "in my mind" doesn't have to be there and getting rid of it cleans up some of this long-ish sentence. If you meant to emphasize the "in my head" and "in my mind" though, don't mind me. is enough to make another hot tear streak its way down my face, leaving a burning sensation in its wake.
Come party again. Hold your breath one more time, Amanda. Hold your breath. Actually shuddered here.

*****

I bolt up right from "upright on?" Depending on which action you're trying to describe here, I'm not quite sure. It could be either. Is she bolting upright from the dream? or from the bed?my bed, sweat dampening my entire bodyThere are better ways to describe waking up in a cold sweat. Clothes stick to me when that happens. Picky, picky, tears on my face. Heart rate insanely too fastquick. And get rid of "too," redundant. I don't like quick either. Maybe something like "Heart racing" would fit better. The rain is pelting gently pelting... gently? hm. If that wasn't on purpose, I'd like to see a less conflicting choice of wordsagainst my window; a crack of lightning across theyou know, I love the way you manipulate your sentences. At first I wanted a verb for the lightning, but after reading again, I like the way it provides transition from gentle rain to quicker rain sky, and the pace of the rain picks itself no need for itself here. Still sounds awkward with it taken out though doesn't it. Reword.up.
My breathing is laboredlabored breathing. Familiar and I look through the darkness of the room to check of where I am. Not up to your standard here. She could strain to see through the darkness.
I'm home. I'm in my room.
I don't relax for an entire hour. I am just as I woke up; alert, terrified, and listening to the rain tap against my window. The bed is soaked in sweat, as are my clothes in which I fell asleep in. might be a little redundant here. I doubt she'd change from the clothes she fell asleep in.
I sighed after the hour mark hitThere are better, cleaner ways to say "after an hour passed" and raked a hand through my thick hair, and hoped to get some sleep tonight. I looked over to my clock, which read in bright readthis numbers: 2:48 am.
I got up, turned my bed roomtry just "the lights" light on, and looked myself in the mirror above the dresser that held on top of it my looking glass ball.
Dead eye contact. I stared and spoke softly.
"You're past that, Amanda. It is over. You have a future ahead; you have med school. No more monster. You're past this. I promise to take care of you."
I finally began to deepen my breath, slow my heart rate.
I hadn't been this terrified in years. Not since I was a little girl and still thought monsters were under my bed. I turned away from the mirror. So she's never had this dream before? Is it the first time? Nothing suggests that's the case.

You aren't past me. You never will be. Because some part of you will always love the feeling I give you. Some part of you, the party-go Amanda, will always crave me. Whispered the monster. And there is nothing you can do about it. Again with the laughter, and again with the shiver up my spine and tears on my face.
I look back over my shoulder and see the dark figure from my dream; the red eyes, the darkness of it. I do not turn away or look behind me. Got confused here for a bit. Then I realized when she first looked over her shoulder it was through the mirrorI know its really there. It's the monster.

"Hello, Amanda." The being cackles evilly.
"Go to hell, you fucker!" I picked up the glass ball, which was easily five to eight pounds and hurled it at the mirror. And just before the glass ball made contact with the mirror, the being grew wide eyes of terror, of defeat and became trapped inside the mirror as it shattered. I want more punch here

"I'm in control not you." I whispered softly at the glass shards.

Hold your breath. And die for me, monster.

And now I say, "Wow."
It wasn't perfect grammatically speaking, and I got hung up on a few (tiny) details, but I'd say the emotions you put through in this piece are spot on. You are incredible at manipulating your sentences to control the pace of the piece; I could see the vulnerability, the fear, and fragmentation in this girl's mind. I hate to repeat myself but the tortured triumph there at the end drew so many parallels for me to Black Swan. It's a good thing.

Stories involving personal demons really affect me, and I was wholly affected by the intensity of yours. I loved it. I marked it up with a lot of red; a lot of it is picky stuff that I threw in because I couldn't find any glaring flaws. I wouldn't have gone to the trouble if I didn't think you could make something out of it. Hope my review helps you out