This was a project for my grade 12 Literature class. We had to take any story we could concieve and set it in the 1700's. The story I wrote almost got me suspended from school, but I did manage an A and an easy pass.
Please be aware that this is a very tragic and in one place violent story, and contains homosexuality in two of the characters, one of which is the main character, and puts religion in a bad light with another character. If any of these offend you, and you still decide to read it, remember this disclaimer.
This story contains violence, mature themes and other things that may be percieved as offensive, such as Homosexuality and religion put in a negetive light.
You have been warned. If you are ok with this, then please enjoy the story I worked hard on it.
“Don’t Look At Me”
By Mitchell Connolly
It would have been bright out tonight, had the sky not been so choked with rain. It had subsided, for the moment, but the thick clouds rolled and broke menacingly, like a tide of mud, keeping the tiny people underneath ready to raise their umbrellas. Because of this, it was very dark, and Gabrielle had trouble making out the alley that she was about to enter.
Behind her, the chak chak of horses burdened with carriage faded in and out as they passed. A man with a long pole walked by, smiling to her as he used the pole to open and light a lantern that had somehow gone out during the course of the night. Holding her breath, she walked into the darkness.
Her skin prickled as she trusted herself to the shadows. When she reached their centre, she waited. It had been only a few minutes before she started to doubt. Maybe she wouldn’t show…
She felt a strong, but slender arm circle her from behind, the cold intrusion of a knife tip being held to the nape of her back. Her breath caught in her throat and her body tensed, feeling her chest heave. Soft lips brushed against her ear, whispering to her.
“Are you alone?” the woman said, smiling evilly as she held the girl tight against her, stroking her gently with the tiny blade, making her back arch instinctively.
Her captors strong, nimble fingers found their way to her waist line and danced over her flat stomach, causing her to stifle a giggle which came out as a constricted whimper of pleasure. Gabrielle’s nostrils were filled with the now familiar scent of mould and soup.
Gabrielle should have wanted to scream, even though the knife would have kept her quiet. She should have been afraid of the mugging and possible rape that would follow from the person holding her. But she knew who it was. Who “she” was, and she would play along with her little game.
“Alone and vulnerable” she whispered back, feeling her face grow hot. She felt the knife retreat and she spun around to Katarina, throwing her arms around her as they embraced warmly.
Gabrielle was smaller then Katarina, so she would lean her head against her chest, hugging her tightly. She smiled distantly as she felt Kats fingers stroke her hair. When she looked up to her lovers face, they kissed, gently at first, then deeply, pressing into each other, feeling the warmth of each others bodies.
For several minutes the world vanished. The only thing that existed to Gabrielle was the thief girl that held her. Soon, it ended, and Katarina leant on her back against the hard wall, holding the smaller Gabrielle in her arms from behind. Gabrielle went helplessly limp and made a soft cooing noise.
She loved to be held like this, to have her lover’s arms around her and meeting on her stomach, her head rested back on her rising and falling breasts, feeling the soft kisses that would constantly find the crown of her head.
Katarina knew this. She knew all the little things she liked, and was always gentle and soothing in performing them for her. The tall street urchin always managed to make Gabrielle feel special.
Katarina asked how long she had. Gabrielle looked down.
“Scarcely more then a few hours… I must leave then. Father will awake early to rake in the peoples coins at Sunday Service” Images of her father flashed across her vision, his black robe and white collar perfect and neat, his glasses hiding his malevolent, greedy eyes. The images made her want to throw something against the wall, but it vented into tears. Gabrielle cried, and Kat drew her close. As if the gods themselves had been moved to tears, it rained.
Gabrielle winced at the loud click of the door opening. The sun would rise in an hour, and she needed to get to bed before her father awoke to take her to church. She slipped through the half opened doorway and closed it as quietly as possible. It was still dark, so she didn’t see the man standing in the hallway.
“Where have you been?” She spun to her father’s voice. Before she could speak, pain exploded in the side of her face, and the ground came rushing towards her. She lay sprawled on the wooden floor, trying to comprehend the strike her father had dealt.
“**ore!” He spat, and reached down to grab her hair, half dragging, half throwing her into the living room, where her body slammed into the cold wood. An evil looking fire had been stocked in the fireplace, the grate leaning against the wall.
Why was he doing this to her? There was only one conclusion. He knew. He knew about Katarina. He would kill her for sure.
He walked into the room with the stride of a man with all the time in the world. He straightened his white collar and kicked her, lifting her up off the ground. She coughed up blood, her throat raw from crying.
No one would hear her. No one would save her.
He walked around her, circling like a black shark, reading from a small bible and flicking holy water onto her writhing body. He spoke to her in a crazed voice.
“Repent your Sin child! Repent! Or I will mark you as Kain was marked by god, so all the world will shun you for the demon you are!” He reached down to her and grabbed her hair again, rubbing holy oil through her hair and bringing her towards the fire. She whimpered pitifully as the heat washed over her face.
“Repent child! Or meet the flames!” She screamed her defiance, struggling feebly. He thrust her in, casting her into the fire. She screamed as she felt her skin peel and curl, exposing her twitching muscles to burn in excruciating pain. She screamed and screamed until she feared her throat would collapse in on itself. She smelt a horrid smell… her own burning hair.
He pulled her out, and he skinless face was exposed to the biting cold, but she had no breath left to scream. She held her face and thrashed around, knocking over a small table. He screamed at her, lifting her up by the fires again.
“Greet the flames! They await all the wicked and sinful!”
So this is how it would end. She was going to die, all because she loved a woman. Katarina… she would never know…she would never find out why her lover had left with no goodbye. Would she find another? Would she search for her? Would she remember how deeply she loved her...?
A solitary tear traced its way down her ruined skin. She closed her eyes said nothing, even when her father violently shook her at her lack of response.
NO! She wouldn’t die like this! Not now.
She reached into the coals and grabbed a handful of hot embers. Her hand burned, but she didn’t care. She threw them at her father, and he cried out in pain, his glasses falling to the ground.
She scrambled to her feet and tried to run, but he grabbed her skirt and she feel to her knees. She turned to face him, crawling away from him on her elbows, looking for anything that might help her.
He grabbed a sooty fire stoker and advanced on her, his black loafers crunching on cooling embers. “BITCH!” he roared, ready to kill her. He fingers touched something cold and smooth, a tiny crystal bottle full of holy oil.
Blindly, she swung out with it, connecting with his head with a crisp smashing sound. He stumbled back, covered in oil and slammed into the fire place. He drenched robes ignited and he was engulfed in seconds.
Gabrielle could barely recognize the world around her as she ran out into the cold wet yard, collapsing on the grass. She dimly watched the house go up in flames, then gave in to the darkness.
When Katarina saw the hooded figure appear from the early evening mist, she rushed to meet her, unaware of what had happened. She went to embrace her, but Gabrielle drew away from her. It was then that Kat saw the curled, twisted flesh of her fingers poking out from her sleeves.
“Gab?” She whispered. “Gabby? What happened?” She made to remove the hood, but Gabrielle stiffened. Under the hood, Kat could here her gasping cries, barely audible. Slowly, Katarina made to move the concealing hood, but Gabrielle stiffened and made a small step back.
“My love… don’t look at me”
Katarina was worried at the submissive defeat in her voice. She moved for the hood once more, slowly this time, and though Gabrielle tensed at this, she reluctantly allowed Katarina to do this.
She removed the hood, revealing Gabrielle’s ruined, monstrous face, bald and burnt, a tear tracing an erratic path down her face. There was a long silence, Gabrielle looking down, waiting for Katarina to run. It never happened.
Katarina drew her close, holding her and letting her cry, tenderly kissing her forehead and telling her it would be ok. She cradled her until her sobbing lessened and she looked up at her with such a look of relieved gratitude for her lover.
The tall, black haired woman, so stunning and pretty, tenderly kissed Gabrielle’s lips with no sign of revulsion evident on her face or in her eyes, which never left Gabrielle’s.
“Come on my love. Lets get you to my place, and we’ll see what we can do about these burns”
Before she could respond, she was swept up in the street urchins arms, and Katarina carried her through the mist toward her tiny home in the next street, paying no mind to the few people on the streets that watched with disapproving eyes.
Gabrielle didn’t care about them. She may have been scarred for life, but she was free now. There was no fear, no secrecy, and no shame… just them. She curled up in Katarina’s arms and nuzzled her nose into her long black hair, falling asleep before they had reached the other end of the road.
The End
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125,020 Literary Works • 672,734 Reviews
The emotion i felt when reading this story almost put me through the floor. wow. it was incredible. Keep up the awesome work and i hope to hear more from you.
This was a very good story. I don't see how they could have suspended you for it except maybe for using the word "bitch." Other than that, nice. Keep up the good work.
I agree, yes- it could use work. But then, what can't? Overall, I loved the story. Some roles were a little worn, and stereotypical, and the father was a flat character, but it was very well written. At times, I didn't see a lot of seventeenth century going on. I found myself picturing NYC and not finding any contradictory info to that.
As a Jew, I've experienced my fair share of stereotype-based bias and prejudice as well. *sigh*
I can understand how you might feel your own biases or negative will towards religious institutions, as I myself battle a fairly constant urge to scream at my classmates "Not everyone celebrates Christmas or believes in the trinity or is Christian, you know!" I mean, these people are perfectly fine, but society often dictates that we learn only a closed point of view. (the Jewish religion has a strong principle of laughing at yourself, and forgiveness, both of which I like. We also like free speech, so not much offends us if we're decent people. Of course not all of us are)
I also can't believe your school would punish this piece. That's like the Dalai Lama ordering war on the Pope- just wrong, completely strange, and definitely questionable.
A great story. I still read it over because it is so freaky and disturbing and I never quite understand it.
Schools are stupid. No offense or anything. But they really are.
However, one thing that is NOT stupid is this story!!! It was very good, and very powerful. There really isn't anything I'd change about it.
Nice work!
I want more what happens i love it there are a few mistakes but I think everybody else caught them. This is good thak you for posting it.
Great story indeed! I think everyone has pretty much covered everything that needed any fixing. This was really good though. Sad that schools have to see such brilliance as threatening. Glad it all turned out well for you.
I look forward to seeing more of your work! And welcome to the YWS!
~Yoyo
I'm shocked.
No, seriously, what sort of uptight school did you go to?
I thought it was quite well written too, although you might want to watch how many commas you use. I'd also maybe think hard whether you need to use bad language to get your point across. It can be a powerful tool, but when it is overused it can come across as a bit vulgar.
The only criticism I'd have was that it seemed a little unbelievable towards the end, because if you'd been burned badly, unless it was so serious that it damaged the nerves (and in that case if it was extensive you'd most likely be in shock) you'd probably be in too much agony to be able to talk to anyone, especially if your face had been burned. Burns hurt, a lot.
I got a second degree burn on my hand before Christmas, and it absolutely killed. It was only tiny, but after I'd done it, despite running it under water, all I could do all evening was sit and grit my teeth while my hand felt like it was on fire. The scene at the end came across a bit too cool, for someone that's just been disfigured by burns.
Other than that, good job.
This piece was really well-written; at first I was confused as to which one was Katarina and which one was Gabrielle, but it all worked out in the end, Kudos for a great story!
That is a very freaky story! WOW I wonder how you could come up with something that complicated and scary!
great story
i don't think you should have gotten in trouble for it
it's a very nice story
It is pretty sad that a society that is supposed to be about freedom of speech can try to punish people for simply exercising that right. What is even sadder in this case was that it was just one teacher being personally offended by the content, not that they thought it showed you were a potential risk to the safety of the school.
Since this was for school, I imagine you had a page limit and that can account for a lack of detail, but what this needs is more detail, and lots of it. I'm totally with Imp on this. Give of more tangible details. Show us where the characters are. And slow down. This is the type of story where you really need to pace yourself. We should be able to totally immerse ourselves in the setting and feel like we are the character, not just reading about her.
Being vague at the beginning can sometimes be good, but make sure you are doing it for the right reasons, and not just for the sake tone.
I'd also suggest using the female characters' names just a little more often. There were a few times when I didn't know which one you meant when you just said "she"
Your school tried to suspend you for this lovely piece of work? Dear lord they are derranged. I tried finding something to critique as I went through and read it and the only thing I could find was that maybe you could make it flow a little better. Other than that, I found nothing wrong with it. I loved your story, it was very good.
...it would be nice to have characters rather than types or masks.
For its sensational quality, doubtless, you got a reaction. But being brazen isn't necassarily a credit; and this seemed - for what it might have been - rather cobbled together.
Hypothetically: You could have a Gothic piece of horror fiction here, based on superstitions and the most twisted side of human nature. But you know, the horror genre - not to mention Gothic - loses a lot in its often complete disregard for rules of human interaction, of history and of religion.
Detail:
What and where are you writing about? This is a church? Where? Her father is a minister? He can't be a Catholic priest, as they're unmarried. Anglican?
From beginning to the sudden climax, there's no pause, no narrative sense of time and no detail to set these characters on their feet. They might as well be walking upside down in the clouds.
You have, without any glance of doubt, bloody, earthy rottenness. But blood and perversion is no more tangible to a reader through being bloody rotten than haloes and piety. It must be connected to a relatable character; and the character has got to be placed in a real setting.
As to convincing detail: You have one woman kiss the other, after her face has been nearly burnt off? Surely that would hurt to Hell and back.
Ouch. Melodrama:
Over-the-top is the keyword for horror - if this is meant to be so. But a story that effects the reader, truly chilling, is one in which the horror is subtle and the dread is of the incongruous twistedness of human beings. Yes?
At the moment, you have this "father" shouting obscenity - out of nowhere; we've no introduction to him much before - and then burning a girl's face. He shouts. Over and over again. The girl tries to get away. Well, yes, she would.
Only it's going to be the dread of something like this scene that is more frightening than its occurence; and you've given the reader no time to dread.
Morality and Ambiguity (and Characters):
The 'clergyman' (father?), is a very neat mask and quite a lovely stereotype. The girls are oh-so tragically infatuated with each other, melting in each other's arms, etc.
But there's nothing more tangible to it. The narrative hops abruptly from the girls meeting to the climactic, over-the-top maiming. The point of it hops with it. Where is the line drawn?
All stories are based on lines - good ones. They have to be drawn because something uncontained cannot be understood. "Story-shaped things", said some author or other; and things that weren't story-shaped.
If there's no moral line, there is the tangible line of human sympathy drawn. But I can't quite believe in the girls while their nemesis, the dark side of the story, is such a ludicrous paper-cutting of evil clergyman.
Stylistically Speaking:
Ah, you've a nice sense of the scene. The first two paragraphs are evocative without being maudlin or leaden.
But you don't - as I mentioned earlier - seem to have a middle of the tale. You introduce the girls, jump to the madman and end with tragic suddenness.
Perhaps if you filled it out by slowing down; adding a scene to set up the church and place a bit more fully, and then let us dread the hinted at horror of the finish.
--
In closing, pardon me for being bloody nit-pick-mad on this. It has those deft flashes, where I can almost see the whole story peering through; and I think it could be a garish - in the best sense of the word - horror-romance of ugly contrasts. At the moment though, you've skimmed the surface only.
Feel free to PM me. Rather tired; hope I was clear, of course.
IMP
Christian doesn't equal priest. Catholic, perhaps? Anyway, "Kain" is spelt "Cain".
It would be nice for a story to portray a religious person as just a person - not a meek "love all the world" person, or a mad fanatic.
well, that just goes to show you that people don't always grade on quality as much as concept eh? I'm glad your real english teacher wasn't a complete idiot =D
-JC
Yes, one of the English teachers reviewing it felt that using a priest for the evil character was wrong. She was a very devout Christian and wasn't very understanding toward it. Infact, she found it outright offensive and vowed to get me out of the class.
Its a good thing my real English teacher stepped in to back me up, or I wouldn't have passed at all.
Woah, this, I gotta say, is unlike anything I have ever read before. I thought it was good. A few little spelling and grammar stuff, but I do believe someone else has pointed them out. It is tragic. Poor Gabrielle and Katarina, how could Gab's father do that to her?
(So, you say you were almost suspended for writing this?)
Keep writing
*Foreseer*
Period at the end. Simple mistake.
Wow. That was dramatic, but not to the point of overdone. Only one thing got to me though, more logic than anything. This was set in the 1700's, correct? Burns of that severity would cause somebody a lot of time in the ICU of a hospital plus years of PT and all that jazzy stuff...all that considered, wouldn't Gabrielle die? Not that I want her to, but considering...it makes sense.
Plot and Style:
The plot was definently dramatic, very well done. The only problem with it was stated above.
Your style in this was very simple, if not a tad dramatic. Still, not overdone. It was good, but a little fast paced for my liking.
Overall this was very good. Though I don't recommend posting your full name along with the post. =D
Great work!
-JC
Thank you for the Critique
I feel strongly about this story, as my fiance and I are both Bisexual and I am an Athiest, and she is a Wiccan, so we have gone through much prejudice over our life choices.
If anybody else takes the time to read this, I would really appreciate your opinions on it
The school nearly suspended you over something like this? What kind of uptight school do you attend? Okay...done with the rant.
I enjoyed this story! And since you posted this up here, I assume you want a critique yes?
The second sentence has far too many commas. Try something like "It had subsided for the moment but the thick clouds rolled and broke menacingly, keeping the tiny people beneath ready to raise their umbrellas."
On the last sentence of this paragraph try, "This horrid weather made it very dark and Gabrielle had trouble seeing the alley she was about to enter."
Change the "chak chak" to "the sound" and make carriage plural.
Change to "She felt a strong, slender arm circle her from behind and the cold intrusion of a knife being held to the nape of her neck." You did mean neck and not back right?
Should be spelled mold.
Needs a period after vulnerable.
Just some nitpicks on punctuation here. "Gabrielle was smaller than Katarina so she would lean her head against her chest, hugging her tightly. She smiled as she felt Kat's fingers stroke her hair. (I don't think you need distantly since it doesn't add anything to the image.) When she stared up at her lover's face they kissed gently before pressing into each other and kissing with increasing force, enjoying the warmth of the other's body against their own."
Other than that I really have nothing much else to say. The scene where her father burns her with holy oil was described wonderfully and made me feel for Gabrielle and despise her father. Good job :]
LUNA
That was really good.
I'd critique it, but I'm not very good, and I didn't see anything wrong with it anyway.
So good job!