Prologue:
Something deep inside me stirred, awakening a fear so close to longing, so uncontrollable. Pulling back I realized that it had already gone too far. Neither of us were ready for this, at the very least I knew I wasn't. Yet it continued, past the point of comfort and security his hands trailed, further and further still until it was too much. We could only go forward, and it was the one direction I couldn’t seem to master.
With tension boiled all around, waiting to cave in and suffocate, I realized just how long ago I should have stopped. This wasn’t right, and he would understand. He had to understand that I couldn’t go through with this tonight.
“Arion,” John leaned forward, putting the flicker of candlelight closer to his face. “I’m sorry, but maybe it‘s better this way.”
I stared back, working to keep my emotions from getting the better of me; after all, it was I who called it quits. I felt my eyes go cold as ice, cold enough to send the last flame scurrying to the dark and quiet John in his tracks.
He could say sorry as much as he wanted, but it wouldn’t change the fact. The fact that it would be over soon, over a year and a half of our lives gone because I wasn’t ready.
They were there; nervous flutters in the hollow of my stomach, not accustomed to this emotion. They were made for anxiety and fear. Not pain, not torture. The butterflies were trying to rip their way out with little wings, sharper than knives. They tore through flesh, drinking up the blood inside with hungry proboscises.
John winced under my scrutiny and continued as best he could. “It’s just that, well, what did you expect? The candles-”
I thought I knew him, but as it turned out, that was the very thought that kept me from really knowing him at all. This night, which was supposed to be about us became all about his carnal cravings. And now, because I wouldn’t just go through with it, all of it would end.
He looked at me like I was going to break into tears at any moment. That was not something I was going to do, just another satisfaction I wouldn’t allow him to have. Because if he could make me cry, then he would know that I was his, that he had some power over me.
I ignored him, and looked around the familiar room. We were in the shed-turned-office in his backyard that had, for the past year and a half, been our secret hideout late at night.
“Babe,” he said, the same look coating his features. “Are you okay?”
No, Jackass.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” I said, though my voice betrayed the words. I knew he could tell.
“You’re lying.”
Just as he said it, the first butterfly made its way through. Through what- I couldn’t tell. Everything in my body tried to escape at once, tear me apart, and melt me down until I was nothing more than a passing memory in the air. The sensation was overwhelming, and I was crying. Damn it. I was crying.
“Please, don’t cry. This is for the best.”
“Stop it!” I cried, shoving my head in my hands and trying to make it stop. My entire body shook, tremors traveled through as the butterflies flew through with their razorblade wings. It hurt so much.
Sitting in front of me was the guy I loved, staring back at me with an expression of both pity and finality. Neither of which were good. And there I sat across from him, breaking down to a sudden end because I couldn’t move forward any longer. And yet, the rest of the room seemed to dismiss us. The music still played softly from the stereo and moonlight broke in through the windows, but as much as I wanted to, I wasn’t falling for that charade. I was falling apart.
“I’m sorry,” he said. His voice was soft, but just underneath I could hear that the decision was made. This was the end.
A new wave of pain sent more tremors down. The tears weren’t falling fast enough, but couldn’t fall any faster. My entire body felt like it was breaking down.
“Arion, please.”
With this surge of pain came a new anger, and a new courage to say the words I needed to say.
“Please what?” I asked, my voice raspy with the still-falling tears.
“Please don’t cry,” John answered. Everything about him was soothing, comforting, and he was doing it on purpose. He was stringing me like a puppet, only this time I wouldn’t take it.
“Why not?” I asked. “Why can’t I?”
He didn’t have an answer for that, and I found myself crying harder. I hadn’t cried in so long, and the feeling was almost too much.
John made a move like he was going to hug me. I pulled back and looked away.
“Don’t.”
“Babe-”
“No,” I said, putting as much venom as I could into the word. I was hurting, and he should too. He shouldn’t have been able to sit across from me so calmly. If he’d ever really cared about me he should have felt something. “I don‘t want to hear it.”
“Don’t do this,” John said with obvious annoyance. He wasn’t worth it. He wasn’t worth this feeling, this heartbreak. It had taken until now for me to realize that I’d wasted a year and a half of my life, and now, as much as it hurt, it was time to walk away.
“I’m not,” I said. My voice cracked as I fought back a new wave of tears. “You are.”
Without another word I gathered my things, letting the tears fall silently and shamelessly. The tremors were stuck in my hands, but the rest of me was strangely peaceful. I knew it was just another façade. The wounds weren’t healing, and there would be more to come later. Much more.
I paused with my hand on the doorknob; the hardest word to say seemed stuck in my throat. John watched me from where he sat, but made no move to stop me, no motion that this hurt him in the least. I guess I’d known he wouldn’t try and stop me, but the hope had given me even more room to fall.
Soon enough, I turned the knob and walked out into the night, that single word haunting me as I went.
Goodbye.
_____________________________________
OLD VERSION:
Chapter One:
It was a special night gone wrong, so wrong. My memory was etched with the image of innocent candles with flickering flames, and the feel of his body so warm and close to mine. Something deep inside me stirred, awakening a fear so close to longing, so uncontrollable. Pulling back I realized that it had already gone too far. You can only go forward, and yet, it was the one direction I couldn’t seem to master.
With tension boiled all around, waiting to cave in and suffocate, I realized just how long ago I should have stopped.
“Arion,” John leaned forward, putting the flicker of candlelight closer to his face. “I’m sorry.”
I stared back, working to keep my emotions from getting the better of me; after all, it was I who called it quits. I felt my eyes go cold as ice, cold enough to send the last flame scurrying to the dark.
Then they were there. The butterflies, trying to rip their way out with little wings, sharper than knives. They tore through flesh, drinking up the blood inside with hungry proboscises.
John winced under my scrutiny and continued as best he could. “It’s just that, well, what did you expect? The candles-”
I thought I knew him, but as it turned out, that was the very thought that kept me from really knowing him at all.
“Arion?” He looked at me like I was going to break into tears at any moment. That was not something I was going to do, just another satisfaction I wouldn’t allow him to have. Because if he could make me cry, then he would know that I was his, that he had some power over me.
I ignored him, and looked around the familiar room. We were in the shed-turned-office in his backyard that had, for the past year and a half, been our secret hideout late at night.
“Arion,” he said again, the same look coating his features. I was beginning to get sick of his overuse of my name. “Are you okay?”
No. Jackass.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” I said, though my voice betrayed the words. I knew he could tell.
“You’re lying.”
Just as he said it, the first butterfly made its way through. Through what- I couldn’t tell. Everything in my body tried to escape at once, tear me apart, and melt me down until I was nothing more than a passing memory in the air. The sensation was overwhelming, and I was crying. Damn it. I was crying.
“Arion-”
“Stop it!” I cried, shoving my head in my hands and trying to make it stop. My entire body shook, tremors traveled through as the butterflies flew through with their razorblade wings. It hurt so much.
Sitting in front of me was the guy I loved, staring back at me with an expression of both pity and finality. Neither of which were good. Then, there I sat before him, breaking down to a sudden end because I couldn’t move forward any longer. And yet, the rest of the room seemed to dismiss us. The music still played softly from the stereo and moonlight broke in through the windows, but as much as I wanted to, I wasn’t falling for that charade. I was falling apart.
“I’m sorry,” he said. His voice was soft, but just underneath I could hear that the decision was made. This was the end.
A new wave of pain sent more tremors down. The tears weren’t falling fast enough, but couldn’t fall any faster. My entire body felt like it was breaking down.
“Arion, please.”
With this surge of pain came a new anger, and a new courage to say the words I needed to say.
“Please what?” I asked, my voice raspy with the still-falling tears.
“Please don’t cry,” John answered. Everything about him was soothing, comforting, and he was doing it on purpose. He was stringing me like a puppet, only this time I wouldn’t take it.
“Why not?” I asked. “Why can’t I?”
He didn’t have an answer for that, and I found myself crying harder. I never cried. Ever.
John made a move like he was going to hug me. I pulled back and looked away.
“Don’t.”
“Ari-”
“No,” I said, putting as much venom as I could into the word. I was hurting, and he should to. “Please leave me alone.”
“Don’t do this,” John pleaded, the first hint of any genuine emotion was beginning to show.
“I’m not,” I said. My voice cracked as I fought back a new wave of tears. “You are.”
Without another word I gathered my things, letting the tears fall silently and shamelessly. The tremors were stuck in my hands, but the rest of me was strangely peaceful. I knew it was just another façade. The wounds weren’t healing, and there would be more to come later. Much more.
I paused with my hand on the doorknob; the hardest word to say seemed stuck in my throat.
Soon enough, I turned the knob and walked out into the night, that single word haunting me as I went.
Goodbye.
Pretty much everyone has said it for me. But I laughed my butt off on this one:
“Babe,” he said, the same look coating his features. “Are you okay?”
No, Jackass.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” I said, though my voice betrayed the words. I knew he could tell.
close to an uncontrollable longing. You get the exact same thing
Wait - when he says her name (Arion, right?) he goes on to say 'it's better this way'
Since when does he feel the same as her? Because I thought he was eager, he was in the beginning!
So maybe put 'i said venomously' instead to make it more to the point
Neat title!
so close to longing, so uncontrollable.
were ready for this, at the very least I knew I wasn't
Yet it continued, past the point of comfort and security his hands trailed, further and further still until it was too much.
tension boiled all around, waiting to cave in and suffocate
“Arion,” John leaned forward
. I felt my eyes go cold as ice
cold enough to send the last flame scurrying to the dark and quiet John in his tracks.
there; nervous flutters in the hollow of my stomach, not accustomed
They were made for anxiety and fear. Not pain, not torture.
to rip their way out with little wings, sharper than knives.
The candles-”
that was the very thought that kept me from
And now, because I wouldn’t just go through with it, all of it would end.
Through what- I couldn’t tell.
Please, don’t cry
,” I said, putting as much venom
The wounds weren’t healing, and there would be more to come later. Much more.
Soon enough, I turned the knob and walked out
I like the beginning. You changed a few parts which is nice and you actually let John speak a little more creatively! 
Again, the entire butterfly metaphor thing is good. It fits with the narrator.
He could say sorry as much as he wanted, but it wouldn’t change the fact. The fact that it would be over soon, over a year and a half of our lives gone because I wasn’t ready.
OK, I'm back.
Neither of us were ready for this, our relationship wasn’t ready for this.
They were there; nervous flutters in the hollow of my stomach, not accustomed to this emotion. They were made for anxiety and nervousness. Not pain, not torture. The butterflies were trying to rip their way out with little wings, sharper than knives. They tore through flesh, drinking up the blood inside with hungry proboscises.
“No,” I said, putting as much venom as I could into the word. I was hurting, and he should to.
EDITED:
Thank you all very much for your helpful critiques, I think it's made this section much better. Tell me what you think about the changes.
Hey JC!
You've read my stuff before, so I thought I'd return the favor. I liked this, but I got the prologue feeling when I read this. I know others have said that, and I don't mean to be repetitive but...
Anyways, I loved this and there's a mystery around John and Arion (I love that name) Their relationship seems so distant, but you could tell they've been through a lot. This is beautifully written and your words are well executed.
Favorite Paragraph:
Sitting in front of me was the guy I loved, staring back at me with an expression of both pity and finality. Neither of which were good. Then, there I sat before him, breaking down to a sudden end because I couldn’t move forward any longer. And yet, the rest of the room seemed to dismiss us. The music still played softly from the stereo and moonlight broke in through the windows, but as much as I wanted to, I wasn’t falling for that charade. I was falling apart.
This is more like a prologue, really.
The first sentence wasn't good and it change the idea of what is to come. At first I thought it was a night out where the guy didn't show up.
So I'd remove the 'so wrong' and that might make it better.
Also. John that keeps repeating her name really irritates me like a fish buried in the sand.
Also: The butterflies are good. I like the idea of the butterflies that seem to be 'her' if you know what I mean.
Arion seems to be very stubborn like Rascalover said. She also seems confused and she seems to think that everything is wrong in her life, while John is this random guy that keeps repeating Arion's name. The only time he ever showed emotion was when YOU told us about it.
No. Jackass.
I didn't spot any typos or grammar errors that hadn't already been pointed out, so guess I'll just give you my overall opinion:
I don't really understand the butterflies. No one else seems to have that problems, so it must be just me. Do they symbolize her emotions, getting wild and out of control? If so, then I think she should have more of a stronger reaction to being dumped. Sure, she cires, sure, she has a mild angry spout. But the way you described the butterflies, it seemed as if she was just going to EXPLODE.
Which she didn't.
I guess it would make sense if she left and then did something she regretted. Oh, and one more thing, now that I remember. What did you mean in the very beginning that she had gone too far? That wasn't clear to me, either...
So yeah, those are my only complaints. This was nicely-written, and I'm interested in knowing more.
Good luck with writing,
KJ
The thing is, John doesn't really feel for her, it's more of a material relationship. Everything in this story is metaphoric, and it's extremely subtle but is more obvious as time goes on. The theme really has nothing to do with love...it's a...twisted romance, really. Again, everything changes rather quickly and it stops following the expected pattern.
And the butterfly thing, it does refer to nervous butterflies in her stomach, and they were in fact inspired by an emotion I've felt before, where something was so emotionally...emotional that there was this feeling of nervous butterflies that were almost painful. I'm still trying to find a good way to explain it without just saying, nervous butterflies that hurt. You know?
And the butterflies do come in again, but not often. In the first draft I will admit they were everywhere, but I've taken practically all of them out. The only things that deal with them now happen in the beginning (here), on a wall, in her name (Masculinea Arion is a Large Blue butterfly), and at the very end.
A lot of the theme ideas do come in later. I know, I know, if I have to explain it I should be writing it, but because it comes in later I would rather see that effect that it has in the long run before I change major things like that.
-JC
Hey there JC, I am back once again to review your work.
He didn’t have an answer for that, and I found myself crying harder. I never cried. Ever.
“Don’t do this,” John pleaded, the first hint of any genuine emotion was beginning to show.
I paused with my hand on the doorknob; the hardest word to say seemed stuck in my throat.
Soon enough, I turned the knob and walked out into the night, that single word haunting me as I went.
Goodbye.
Thanks for the helpful comments.
Jig, I thought it was interesting that you said nothing really happened so far, but I can assure you that the rest of the story is very different than anything I've written before, especially setting-wise. Don't worry, by chapter four things get weird.
I'm going to go through and look at some of the corrections, see what I can do before I post the next few sections. This is an already completed piece of mine which I'm going through editing, so please, be as harsh as you can!
Thanks again,
-JC
It was a special night gone wrong,[s] so wrong[/s].
My memory was etched with [s]the image of[/s] innocent candles of flickering flames, and the feel of his body so warm and close to mine.
Then they were there.
John winced under my scrutiny and continued as best he could. “It’s just that, well, what did you expect? The candles-”
I thought I knew him, but as it turned out, that was the very thought that kept me from really knowing him at all.
“Arion?”
I was beginning to get sick of his overuse of my name. “Are you okay?”
Then, there I sat before him, breaking down to a sudden end because I couldn’t move forward any longer.
I've only got a couple nitpicks-- grammar/typos.
We were in the?shed-turned-office in his backyard that had, for the past year and a half, been our secret hideout late at night.
“Arion,” John leaned forward, putting the flicker of candlelight closer on his face. “I’m sorry.”
That's just an awkward sentence to me-- generally, things don't get closer on, they get closer to.
Wow, I agree with the first person who said it was awesome. Very well written, no grammar errors or anything like that...good job! I like how you introduced your main character to us, and described all her thoughts and feelings in true detail instead of just simply telling us. I can't wait to read more.
=]
Woah!!! What emotion! Amazing portraying of what I can tell is going to be an awesome story!
Charaters:
arions stubborness, determination, and will is so right for that character. Like you had some one in mind for the specific role! john is your typical male in such a situation he wants to go easy and such even though its obvious that things have gone to far for such a soft ending.
Emotions: What can i say? Emotions pore from this chapter like a water fall. Sadness angry stubborness and angst! It makes the reader feel as if they themsevles are experiencing the pain and toughness arion is feeling.
Over all this was one heck of a chapter and i cant wait to see more!
-Great job Tiffany
120,613 Literary Works • 651,075 Reviews
Points: 890
Reviews: 125
Donate