Published November 29, 2010
My obsessive-compulsive nature impedes me on doing a story with good narration (I don't do well in story-telling because I edit first, LOL.) So I made a piece impromptu. Sorry, it is not well-structured. I want you to help me edit this work. (I seriously need help!)
My husband lay on the bed, tightly sleeping in the quiet night of November. His face was chiseled with sheer innocence and his hands, soft like throw pillow, rested on my stomach. The moonlight beamed through the glass window and complemented his naturally adorable visage. His lips struggled with its manly beauty. His brawny arms whispered to me how secure I am in this home. I slid my hand on his chest and wondered in its hardness how a heart could live in such place. But I felt it beat… and warm.
I loved him this way only… now. This very sight was a pleasure I have been wanting him to give me. The satisfaction I have in this marriage was this one thing. Nothing else but this nightly scenery.
As I viewed his ridiculously immaculate image, a tear dropped smoothly on my cheek. The tickle it gave made me smile and appreciate this ephemeral beauty. Masculinely angelic.
I remembered a long time ago, my husband had this usual glow. He would smile reluctantly but actually from deep inside him as he got in his car, wave at me as the vehicle backed to the street. The car made its way on the road; I would bend and throw a cheerful glance at him. He would grin so softly and heartily until I saw him no more. Every evening those same times, I would just learn that he arrived when I felt his familiar embrace on my back as I cooked in the kitchen. I would hear him smell my hair and it would ensoul me so suddenly. That hug lasted for quite a long time as if it would refill his strength. And those gentle palms of his would caress my cheeks in the cold rainy days.
But those were the past. His heart had rotten and his body grew cold even in the summer nights. And my heart was all drained with him except for the first time I had awakened in midnight and observed a now rare spectacle. Since then, every time the clock struck twelve I would arouse and warm myself amidst the chilly breeze by the sight of him. The sight that shone like the light in daybreak and warmed the trees and their leaves, that melted icicles and enlivened the iridescent waters and the slumbering creatures.
But there came a most horrible day when I could not endure it anymore. The daily atrocity that I received from his punitive hands and his asinine tongue were no longer tolerable. And day by day I would imprison myself in the bathroom as I silently beheld myself in the mirror. I used to cry and cry over this whole situation but I felt like my eyes already had dried up and could no longer shed any tear. Many a time had the thought of ending all this through a rope or a bottle of medicine come in my mind. But I learned my heart to be adamantine because of the continuous viciousness and decided that my fate had not been to die. So I stood up and stopped concealing.
I cared not about my husband’s sharp words and cruel arms anymore; I pleased him by my warm ambience. Yes, he grew suspicious at first but later on did not matter as he enjoyed the wholehearted devotion and service I made. I followed his every order and ascertained every bit of his preferences so as not to awaken his monstrosity. But unfortunately still, with all these efforts of my perhaps undeformed love, he did not cease on mocking me by his usual and different methods.
During evenings, when he went home, I would approach him. I could flutter in fear sometimes as I hurried and opened the door. Grabbing his leather shoulder bag, I would also take off his coat with full concern on him and it. Then he would follow me to the dining room and he would sneer at me more often. So I made him eat up to his satisfaction every supper. I cooked him meals that diet-conscious people would seldom avoid, nodded on his vices, just so I would see his expressions of approval. I made him work no more for the chores, even washing his car. All those things I did for years. So he just lay, during his free days, on the settee and faced nothing but the television. As if he were paralyzed. As if he had a slave to do every inch of the house. Yet no matter my attempts, he did not show any warmth.
My body grew more tired as it always is but I tried to endure all this. I know a time would come when he would not be able to sneer at me, hit me and pulverize my heart anymore.
One night, I set the dishes on the table and prepared for his usual meals… steaks, pasta, fried food. Those were his favorites. He then sat on the cushioned chair and waited for something. I quivered as I laid the plates. I went at once to the kitchen and grabbed the flagon. But for no apparent reason, I spilled the beverage on him and he drew back quickly. I could see the effect of blood running up his head at the moment. I sensed a frightening act that would happen tonight and eventually send me immobile on the bed. He stood. His temples were carved with obvious veins. He flapped his arms as if drying them up. As he did, I did not see the instant slap that sent my face and my whole being down the floor. For this simple matter I got my body bruised. He pulled my hair and uttered very unpleasant statements that put me to lacrimation. This time I felt numb. Despite my tears I felt numb.
I screamed in despair as he grabbed me up by hair. His right hand rapidly took hold of my face, covering my mouth. My cheeks were smeared with tears now. He stared at me as I cried and his eyes showed a burning contempt to me. After a moment he threw me away and I had no idea where I was landing. I felt like I wanted to lay there dead forever. I had never wished for this.
But very determinedly, I grasped the back of a chair and maintained my balance. My whole world broke and I wanted to be crushed down with it. But I wanted to live now for myself. As I got on my feet, still wailing, I turned and saw him leaning, his hands on the wall. He was bowing as if he somewhat regretted hurting me but it mattered to me not.
Die, you monster! I yelled at him. I did this out of fear, and still I was frightened what he would do next after what I said. My body shivered and as he drew near me, pacing, his right hand clenched. Tears flowed in my anxiety, but I was paralyzed in that very second. I could not run away. I was frozen.
Just as he was ready to inflict his fist on me, he suddenly petrified. His face contracted as if there were pain he felt. He put his fist open on his chest and he moaned. He knelt down, his other hand on the floor. For very few seconds, he instantly fell down.
Shocked, both my hands enveloped my mouth. I stepped back once and realized what just happened. I pulled a chair and sat on it, as if exhausted but still not recovered. I realized all my efforts effected.
And I watched him all night.
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Hello there

Haha I'm just going to sneak in and leave you something small, your first few posts and everyone has (lovingly??) Bombarded you with novels of reviews!
I really enjoyed it, I could feel her.. Really feel her, it seems super real? It couldve been a testimonial. Think you got most of it down nicely, I was just a little bit confused about the ending.I think it might be a little vague, I was scrambling for more of an explanation I think.
It was good
Well done!
Hi Kevin! I'm here to hopefully help
Oh dear, as someone has already mentioned, you seem to have gotten your timeline and details mixed up D:
Places to improve:
1) Your language has an air of formality, mechanic-ness that diminishes the amount of emotion conveyed to readers. Partly due to certain odd sentence structuring and I think you may be trying too hard to use good vocabulary (I had that problem too when I first joined YWS, but now it's better, so no worries!)
2) Sentence length. Play around with length variations, for different levels of impact
3) Contradictions. That can easily be ironed out.
Good points:
1) I can tell that you've got good vocabulary. All you need to do now is learn how to use them properly and in appropriate quantities.
2) Aside from the flaws, the general idea of the plot is good.
3) Your narration overall is fine, but unfortunately marred by awkward, unflowing sentences.
I hope you won't be discouraged! It's good that you edited your story, we appreciate writers who put in the effort to make our reviewing easier. Your story has great potential, all you need to do is work on the flaws that are hindering it from achieving it's maximum greatness.
Have a good day,
Meep(:
Rather interesting resolution.
However, your narration is struggling. The way you open and convey your thoughts, this was how I understood the story:
1) Woman watches husband in bed. "This is the only way I can love him now."
2) Woman begins to reminisce about her husband. (This takes place before (1))
3) Woman details how he changed over time. (This also takes place before (1))
4) Woman says, "But there came a day when I could not endure it anymore." (Because we never came back to the present, I still read this as taking place before (1))
5) All that action happens, and husband dies. (before (1)?)
6) Woman goes back to watching him. <----------Here. Here is where you faltered!!
Let me explain. You open with the woman watching him in bed. And then we go through parts 2-5 that seem like they all happened in the past (before the opening). And then he collapses and dies. But it could have been so much BETTER if you wrapped it around to the beginning (so that (6) becomes (1)). Because then we learn that at the beginning, where we thought the husband was alive and she was watching him lovingly...ACTUALLY, he's dead and she is sick and twisted.
But I know this was not your intention because of this line in the beginning:
meaning he's alive. Also the fact that he's in a bed in (1) and on the floor in (6)
Ugh! It pains me that you came so close to that and it even looks like that's what you were going for...but the details pull it apart.
So onto the rest of the review.
Is English your first language? Because there are a lot of near-miss grammatical errors or strange words here that would suggest that it's not.
"tightly sleeping"? What does tightly sleeping mean?
"chiseled with sheer innocence". The words "chiseled" and "innocence" are completely opposed to each other. "Chiseled" has the connotation of harsh, sharp, and old. "Innocence" has the connotation of soft, round, and young.
"...his hands, soft like throw pillow". Soft like a throw pillow.
"His lips struggled with its manly beauty." That really doesn't make sense.
.....And those are just in the first paragraph.
Other things like "But those were the past", "And my heart was all drained with him", "I pleased him by my warm ambience", "I screamed in despair as he grabbed me up by hair.", "Just as he was ready to inflict his fist on me", etc etc.
Other things that stick out:
"I followed his every order and ascertained every bit of his preferences so as not to awaken his monstrosity."
"he did not cease on mocking me by his usual and different methods."
"Then he would follow me to the dining room and he would sneer at me more often"
"just so I would see his expressions of approval"
"I know a time would come when he would not be able to sneer at me, hit me and pulverize my heart anymore."
These phrases are not necessarily wrong in the way they're constructed, but they have such rigid structure and a robotic feeling (that is to say, no feeling). It's as if a sentence were translated from English to Japanese and back to English before you used it.
I don't know. I can't really critique your narration because I'm too caught up on the fact that you can't penetrate any meaning from such robotic sentences. There are places where I think you're saying the wrong thing completely ("I cooked him meals that diet-conscious people would seldom avoid" means that they would avoid it...but I think she's fattening him up, right?). The fog of words is too thick to get through and we can't see the heart of your story.
And then there's the contrived-nature of the story. How does she know that she has fed him enough fatty stuff to cause him to have a heart attack? People eat fatty stuff all their lives and don't have one, so how does she know? Maybe she took him to the doctor and the doctor said his blood pressure was disastrous and he's liable to have a heart attack if he gets worked up? But there's no way to know, "Aha! I have fed him 5 years' worth of fried food, and now if I get him angry, he will have a heart attack!"
So, that's all I can offer now. You need to read more English books. Figure out what words make sense to use when. Make sure you insert all the definite and indefinite articles you need. And reread your work to make sure you're saying what you want to say.
Hello, welcome to YWS! I'm coco and I shall be your first reviewer
Overall comments
Wow, I wasn't expecting that, it was actually a really really good twist, so well done! This is obviously about domestic violence - totally coincidental because I'm working on a presentation on that very topic, any way, it was very couragous of you to write a story on such a sensitive issue but you did it wonderfully, short and sweet but very powerful.
Areas for improvement
1. The first thing I noticed was that you have one or two awkward sentences and odd phrases - this, of course, is no big deal at all, it happens to the best of us and all it takes is just a few minutes reading back over your work to edit these things
2. I think to make this piece even more powerful, I think you could've elaborated more on what the MC's husband does to her - maybe you could talk more about the violence and describe it more and then at the end have your MC remember all this; i.e. she watches his hands shrivel - those hands that used to beat her till she was numb, she watches him cling to his heart - a heart that had long died...etc. a little disturbing and sad - but nonetheless extremely powerful and memorable.
Anyway, I've gone on for far too long, so forgive me
Best of luck for your future projects
*coco