4. Too soon?
I noticed my window was fractured for the first time in a long time. It was always like that, but I never really took notice of it at all. The cars around me are still old, rusty and the reflection of the friends I once had. ‘Caroline’ sweeps past my chest and out of the paper to protect herself. The front door has now become her shield. Her presence is now here in my house forever.
The door closes, and the silence is broken. My mother should be inside, chewing away at her own stupidity. The mirror in the front room reveals my hollow blue eyes, and an infected smile of discontent. Imagining Kate’s smile I am fixated on the smooth edge of the mirror, trying to respond to any movement that passes me. Even the swift particles in the air grab my attention. My mother shouts an inaudible yell from inside, presumably to greet me.
“Robert! How was your day?” She exits the room to talk to me. I give out no signs of interest. I enter the living room and sit down by the table, teeth set on edge.
“Robert…there is something I need to tell you.” Her eyes tell the story. She has put me with a counsellor- I know it. Her eyes, opaque and very frightened, look straight at mine. She holds my hand, and I quickly resist. I look up to her face like a stone white clown, forced to go on with the aimless show of throwing the knives.
“What is his name?”
“W-what? Who’s?”
“The counsellor. What is his name?”
“What do you mean by ‘what’s his name’? Whose?”
“You heard what I said! I want to know who he is. Who is he? I know you have booked me with sessions for a counsellor mum- don’t lie to me!”
”B-but Robert! Dr. Greenway isn’t a counsellor. He is…a friend.”
“Oh give me a break mum. The last thing I need is someone posing as a friend. I don’t want someone older than me to give me guidance. I have guidance.”
“Where is it then? Where has my son gone? Since your father has left, I don’t know what has gotten into you. You are no longer my son it seems. You are-“
“My father only cares about shafting someone other than you!”
Her hand collides into my cheek on impulse. The quick and instant sound of a whip, about a quarter of a second long, reverberates off my cheeks and all over the wall. My eyes, without any emotion or passion, glare at my mother’s. Crying and almost lifeless she exits the room. Her only son has defeated the possibility of her ever moving on. The past always wins.
I have had the displeasure of sleeping with the repetitive sequence of events, more horrid and more vivid than the next. Kisses? Lips? Legs? I have no idea where I am going. Upon the repeating echoes of the sound of my cheek exploding, I made my way to my bedroom. The door was left open from last night and I closed it on my way in. Sitting down on my bed- not being too tempted to sleep- I stare outside the window, and after hours of looking at the sky for birds, I lie down, giving into the deepest sleep.
“What is it?” She utters to my father. She had just woken up.
“Nothing. I am just guilty, that’s all.” He sits up. She kisses his neck.
“Well that’s no reason to be upset. At least you have me.” She giggles. He joins in, his eyes telling a story of ignorance and greed. She begins to unbutton his top.
WAKE UP! FOR GOD’S SAKE WAKE UP!
She tenses her chest and starts to take off her clothes. My father does the same, until they are nothing but raw and unhinged animals.
WHAT IS HAPPENING TO ME?!! WHAT IS GOING ON?!!!
“I love you. I want to marry you. I want to have a baby.”
THE HORROR!!!
Eyes flashed. Screams of regret. A look of neon loneliness upon my face. I stretch my arms, and look outside the window again. The blurry visions of my father’s new whore, exposing her breasts to him, have turned into clouds of turmoil. The sky, swollen black, starts to let out droplets of rain. It is a Friday evening. I will never go to sleep again.
Standing up I look around for signs of life. The wind blew heavily last night- it has disappeared without a trace now. The door is crystallised, with years of one of the simplest wishes known to man: to end the despair. My heart drops at the sound of the rain scratching the window. The mirror is faced down in the kitchen once I turned the lights on. I pick it up and look straight into it; a coldness running through my blood like a river flowing on borrowed time. I slowly touch my hair and smile. It was this smile that made me go back to sleep.
End of chapter
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137,601 Literary Works • 672,050 Reviews
I have never seen so much scorn in a character than this: 'My mother shouts an inaudible yell from inside, presumably to greet me.' However, I think even for those of us non-sadistic Robert-types, we can appreciate what he means. And somehow, you've managed to keep this guy human and relatable. :0!
'I don’t want someone older than me to give me guidance. I have guidance.' His presumptuous arrogance is also strangely endearing, probably, because by now the reader expects it from him.
Favourite line: 'until they are nothing but raw and unhinged animals.' How do you come up with this stuff?! It's like gold dust
After reading this:
'I will never go to sleep again.'
Going on to read more...
This one is by far my favorite. Why? You may ask. Well first off I now understand that this boy has a dysfunctional family. It adds depth and meaning to who that character is and what he's inwardly dealing with. An interesting thought on a first person character is that even though the character may have secrets s/he is not thinking about them all the time.
As for the mother, well to sum it up. She's stressed. But how would he know that she got him booked with a counselor? Up to this point in the story the reader only knows that he has issues and has no former knowledge that his mother is privy to them.
I very much enjoyed the dialog. There seemed to be a lack of it in the past chapters. I inwardly rejoiced when Katie and him had a short conversation. I say to improve this story more have more dialog.
That's all for now.
~Keep writing!
~Berlyn Rae
I have no idea what the time structure is like in this chapter. I feel like several things happened, but I don't know in what order and what the significance of those things are.
I was excited to learn about the counselor.
I was VERY excited to learn about how the narrator perceived he had power over his mother's reaction to how his father cheated on her: how by bringing up he had power over her. I feel like in your synopsis, that was one of the main parts of his character, so why not spend a little more time on that instead of breezing by it.
Again, I love how you weave between times, but make sure that it's clear what you're doing so the reader doesn't get completely lost.
Also try bringing in, as you continue, more sensory details, more setting, so we can feel like this narrator is actually in a place instead of moving around in this endless fog. You have a mirror, but I don't know on what wall it's hung. You have a door, a broken window, but they act as objects instead of fixtures in a larger house.
Once more, let me know if you have questions!
Hannah