I’m floating. For a second I’m safe, hidden deep inside myself where no one can find me, warm and protected.
“You can’t stay there forever. You can’t hide forever.” The voice whispers maliciously. But I don’t shiver, I’m not scared. Cloaked in warmth, I’m safe for the moment and I don’t think about his words. Because once I do, I won’t be safe, not even here.
Then there’s thunder and lightning. And it burns. It crackles and stings. That’s all I feel. In the distance, demands fill the air, demands that promise to end the storm if I give in. But I know that there’s no end to the storm. There’s only the eye where I can hide for a while until it begins again. There’s no one else to defy him, no one else to deny him, so I have to. The duty stings but I have to. I have to, I have to, I have to.
Then I’m alone again and it stings. I sit, staring in front of me. Traitorous tears have gathered in the corner of my glazed eyes, but they haven’t leaked. Not yet, not while I still have some control. My spine is still rigid; I’m too frozen to move, to assess the damage. Distantly, I wonder if the marks have imprinted yet. Maybe it’s too soon. I can still see clearly in front of me, to the balcony opposite. My vision isn’t blurry – through the calm, I feel victorious.
Then he comes back. And he’s sorry. But I’m not, I’m not sorry. I push him away, but he’s too strong. And then he’s crying and I feel guilty but I don’t want to and it’s too much and I feel too much and I feel too weak and I give in. And then he holds the ice pack to my back and I’m telling him that it doesn’t hurt there, it’s numb. But I know that, later, after he leaves, I’ll go to the mirror and see the stripes across my back, criss-cross, criss-cross, red on brown. And it’s cold but I don’t care because my arm is on fire. And he hasn’t noticed, and I don’t tell him. And I lay there wondering if it will look different from the ones on my back, if the stripe will be darker. It swells and the stripe stings when I touch it, so I pull down my sleeve to make sure he doesn’t see. It’s my secret, I get to have a secret. And then he hugs me and he’s sorry, but I only pull down my sleeve. He won’t see that one, he can’t fix that one. He can’t fix everything right after he’s broken it.
And he talks and explains and explains and it makes sense but it doesn’t make it okay; it’s not okay. But I’m crying and I’ve broken and my breaths blubber and gasp for air and I’ve broken, I’ve broken and my tears stain the pillow and I hate myself. I hate myself, I hate myself, I hate myself. I’m weak and broken and I can’t, won’t, be vulnerable, but I’m sobbing and it’s too late. And I hate myself. And then his voice breaks and it’s okay and I tell him it’s okay, so that it’s okay.
When he leaves, I walk to the bathroom and look at my stripes in the mirror. My arm burns less and it looks like I have two elbows. I inspect it and twist it to make sure it’s not broken. I’ll have to tell if it’s a fracture, but I hope it isn’t. It’s my secret. And I wonder if this time I’ve broken the cycle, if I’ve stopped it. Outside, it’s calm – the calm after the storm. But is it, or are we just in the eye, waiting for the next gust of wind to blow us away? I wonder...
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140,234 Literary Works • 673,048 Reviews
hi.
I think the voice would look better if written like this:
It would be more effective and look nice.
I like your use of imagery it was really good.
Also your repetition was nice, really made it emphasis more.
I like how you show the characetrs feelings. She must be really hurt. You really make it stand out.
The way you told the story was nice. You didn't say things directly but you managed to convey it anyway. That was good. Good job.
Hi KoizoraS!
I'd like to review your story.
MICRO COMMENTS
> I sit, staring in front.
To me, "staring in front of me" or "staring straight ahead" sounds more natural than "staring in front."
>In the distance demands fill the air
I had to pause when I first read this sentence. I felt a comma between "distance" and "demands," might help pace this multi-faceted sentence.
>The duty stings but I have to.
I believe it's common to put a comma between "stings" and "but" in compound sentences like this.
>to the balcony opposite
What balcony? I would have liked more information. I don't know where the narrator is, what their surroundings are, etc.
>My vision isn’t blurry
Why would it be? Because of tears? I had to pause and think back to the beginning of the paragraph.
>my breaths blubber
This struck me as a little odd. Maybe "I blubber," "my breathing blubbers," "my breath falters," etc.
MACRO COMMENTS
I think this is meant to be surreal, dream-like, but it seems a little too surreal in places, so that it's hard for me to follow. I'd like it if there was a little more information about the action, as well.
I like that is is driven by emotion. The intensity is, in my opinion, the story's best feature.
I thought a little more information about the setting/the narrator's surroundings might help add color, mood, etc.
I felt the conclusion was strong, clinching.
Hope this offers some insight.
Yeah, thanks it does!
When I first wrote this story, I was driven completely by emotion (like you said) and usually, I don't end up editing those because my peers tell me that they have some kind of a raw appeal. I'm scared that I might ruin that by refining the story, so it's nice to have a second opinion on that.
I'm so glad you mentioned that it seemed too surreal; that's one of the biggest drawbacks of my emotional stuff. Do you think that if I added more to the setting, it would take away from the intensity? That's the main thing I was trying to focus on. Also, can you tell what the story is about? Or do the events get lost in the vagueness of it all?
Lastly...
>my breaths blubber
I know it sounds odd, but I try to mix up my writing, put something new in every piece that I do. I have a horrendous fear of overusing cliches. Some of my oddities stick, and some don't, but do you think it's a good kind of experimentation? Or should I cut back on the imagination?