Published January 17, 2009
(('Nother of my odd little experiments. Tell me what you think.))
The snow came, blanketing the earth in sparkling white crystals. The bare trees reached to the sky, their branches extended like arms, imaginary heads thrown back in silent screams as they were slowly being frozen. The slate-gray sky only added to the melancholy.
Everything was dying. The world had turned black and white.
He was so tiny when they took him away in mid-January. His shriveled body was too small to befit even a child, and his smushed face was inhuman. My only claim to him had been birth-mother. But he was not mine, and I hadn’t wanted him.
Even so, seeing his dead body in the doctor’s arms was inconsolable. I had imagined him living with the nice scholarly couple I had picked out. He would have had a life, apart from me. But now this little body that had been inside me for so long was in the morgue.
The supposed-to-be new parents’ faces were the worst. Heart-broken, because although they had no claim to him, they wanted him. Heart-breaking, because that want was a lot more than I could have ever given him.
The hospital bed was a cold place, my sweat freezing on my forehead as my pulse pounded in my ears. Too much pain for something I had never planned. Too much pain for someone who had violated me. Too much effort for such an unreasonably loveable parasite.
“We were going to name him Henry,” the would-be mother said. What was her name? Mrs. Margh? Yes, that was it.
“That’s a beautiful name,” I whispered dejectedly.
“Child, do not blame yourself. It wasn’t your fault.”
That’s what they all said. Even if it was true, it felt like it was my fault. My fault for not screaming, not fighting back, not doing anything. But what could I do? I had just let it happen; closed my eyes and hoped that it would be over soon.
And now the baby that was only half-mine was dead, which only added the insult to the injury.
“Child,” Mrs. Margh said again.
I looked up at her, and saw myself reflected in her brown irises. Eyes blood-shot, face too pale. The pregnancy had carved deep lines into my face. But I had been strong once. I might as well act like it.
“I have a name,” I breathed. “Abra.”
“Abra. That’s odd. Does it mean something?”
“Yes,” I said, a smile tugging at the corners of my lips. “It means mother.”
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140,919 Literary Works • 673,736 Reviews
Hmmm... I don't really get it!:smt017
She was giving her child away, but what's this about a parasite... Is the baby a parasite? Did he die of a parasite? You haven't really told us much about the background. I gather that they are in a hospital, just after the baby dies, but what? Is it a girl/boy? You need to tell us more. I want to know more about this parasite. I want to know how he died, why she wanted to give the baby away. Tell us some more, and then It'll be a fantastic story, but for now I don't get it! Sorry for the lame review!
-Asxz
I think I already nitpicked this one to death, so no more bad stuff (for now
).
But, I love the title, really draws you in.
And of course the irony at the end. The only reason I don't mind the name Abra.
<3 Jumelle
Emily ~ babynames.com Look up mother in the search thing on the side, and one of the results is Abra. Literally, it means mother of nations, but it's essentially the same thing. Oh, and apparantly according to Word, smushed isn't a word? Yeah, so I'll have to do some digging around. Or you can add it to your "hiptionary", haha.
Everyone else ~ Thanks so much. I'll totally work on it.
Yo. Few things. First, though I thought this was very good, I must agree with Wes that it is kinda emo, or at least depressing.
Find a synonym for "smushed." The entire story is written in a very dignified and sophiticated matter, so when you threw that in, it gave me whiplash.
(warning: opinion content approaching) Also, if Mrs. Margh was going to adopt her baby, she wouldn't call her "child." It's a little strange she doesn't know her name but she's going to take her kid.
And (warning: best friend comment approaching) not only could I not find a site that said that Abra meant mother, but more importanly, who names their kid that? I also thought it was a bit of a irony cliche.
Hey Ex--
First off, I really loved the title. It drew me in like hot cakes. I gave you a gold star merely because you had an inventive title that grabbed my attention, and that is awesome because people tend to not be so risky when it comes to titles. Awesome! Onto the review.
This is a very cool sentence, but it starts going real strong and then ends sort of weak due to the presence of the adverb "slowly". Rephrasing it without the passive icky sound of an adverb would do this good: "imaginary heads thrown back in silent scream as they froze".
This is nicely written, but I have an issue with the actual development of this piece starting here. You just described setting, but the description of the setting is rather random, and it doesn't actually apply to the plot you start here. "The trees have snow on them. He is tiny..." Instead of doing it like this, try applying the setting to the actual event of his birth, or the plot progression. For instance, "When he was born, [then start with all your setting descriptions]" and then start with these paragraphs. Using your creative judgment of course.
Loveable = lovable.
This doesn't sound realistic, because most people when they speak say "don't" unless they're emphasizing "do" or "not", so italics may be necessary here if you intended for there to be emphasis here.
I really enjoyed the writing of this story. It was an interesting short story to read. I was confused about one thing though, which seemed unclear. The main character, the dejected narrator -- I thought she was nurse for the majority of the story, but at the end I began to think maybe she was the one who gave birth. You should clarify the exact role she plays in relation the baby.
PM me if you have questions, and keep writing!
~ Clo
M'kay, here are the usual nitpicks:
1.
The length of this sentence (without any breaks) was a little confused for me. Try hyphens:
2.
Adverbs are very treacherous indeed. :] I think the sentence would do better without it:
Sorry that's all the help I could offer. Your piece is beautiful. :]
Great description here. I loved it.
Aw.
Ok, so I couldn't find any nit-picks. That is a first. For that, you automatically get a gold star!
So, this completely tugged at my heartstrings. Even though it was short, it was pretty powerful. This was very well-writen; almost as if you were actually the mother. I was convinced, anyways.
I think you executed this story almost perfectly. The only one thing I have to say about this is that I think you probably could've made us sympathize with this woman even more. You built up here pain and remorse just fine, but I know you could've played with the reader's emotions even more. This is a wonderful idea, and it has a lot more potential to be a real tear-jerker.
*anti-pop
I really loved this. I think the tone is just right, and the emotion that the speaker is feeling comes across nicely.
a couple nit pickey things:
should this be "I was inconsolable?" As is, it doesn't really make sense because inconsolable is referring to the act of seeing the dead body when it should be referring to a person.
I agree with rosey about the mid-january line: giving the month makes it sound like a lot of time has gone by, and I think the story is more powerful if it has just happened to the speaker.
I disagree about the heartbroken/heartbreaking line -it was one of my favorites- and about "unreasonably loveable parasite," which is really interesting and intriguing to me both as a title and in the piece.
Overall I really enjoyed reading this. I think if you rewrite it you can develop the plot even more, give more details (or hint at more details) about the girl and what she has been through.
Loved it!
Cee
Thanks Rosey. I'll work on it.
Nit-picks first, comments later.
This line makes me think this is a month or so after the fact.
I get what you're doing with repeating "heart broken/breaking" but it can make this hard to read.
"Unreasonably loveable parasite" feels a touch strange. It doesn't fit with the other words used in the story, and feels really unnatural coming from the mom.
Delete "the" from in front of "insult" and "injury."
Delete "but"; it's a little redundant
Overall- I'm split for this. This theme is powerful, and the end is amazing, as is the beginning, but the power the theme should convay is missing in the middle. I love the way you set the scene for the beginning: grays, death, winter, and the end: the irony of her name meaning "mother" but somewhere in between that you loose it. I think it's the formality of the language and vocabulary, espesially for a worn new-mother.
Hope I helped!