Young Writers Society

Home » Literary works » Short Story » Dramatic

E - Everyone Language

I Knew this was my Moment

by butterflycakes


The sickening stench of alcohol oozing from his breath makes me fall back with nausea. His bloodshot eyes are burning into mine like venom. I would’ve screamed in pain if every strand of my hair wasn’t used to the monstrous grip of this fiend. It was like the devil whispering vile incantations of my ruin into my ears. No man has ever seemed this ugly and dangerous as the one staring at me at this exact moment. I can see it. Beyond all the abysmal aversion this man possessed, I can see his mind working in twisted ways, trying to figure out what retribution I deserved best today. It was as amusing as it was despicable. “You are NOT going to be let go so easily this time. A lesson has to be in order you insolent leech! You expect to stay under MY roof and disrespect ME? A GIRL has the audacity to talk back to ME? You are in for a treat today, you witch. I will teach you what your ignorant imp of a mother has failed to get inside your head.”

Here it comes; the moment that I am so used to. Yet it is the moment that still never fails to weaken the dread that boils through my veins as his hand swings in thin air and strikes to break whatever bone that remains unbroken in my body. The vicious blow forces the wind out of my chest and I fall on the floor. The ground is stained with the red of blood as I lie on it and pray silently. No more. Let me go please. Let me go. Throw me inside my room and lock me up. Please just stay away from me. Let me go.... I grasp for that little bit of mercy that might be left in him. He tries to break free as I grasp onto his feet, begging him for compassion.

“You should consider yourself lucky that you got an understanding husband like me. If you were under the roof of some unfortunate man, he’d have you killed and six feet under by now. Stop crying. Get out. Scram. Put some ice on that. We have to attend Akanda’s wedding tomorrow. I cannot be seen with you if you look like some trash. Now get out of my face.”

I listen for the thud of his feet to drown out into the night as he shuts his door. It is quiet now. I can listen to myself breathe. There is a faint husk to it, perhaps from the parade of hits and slaps I received tonight. The chilling feel of ice doesn’t help anymore. The marks of his fingers do not fade away. The terror of him coming back for another round of it all keeps me up every night. Sometimes it forces me to break down, because the pain is too excruciating to hold back. Sometimes the thought of losing myself in the midst of all this makes me dare to think of unspeakable things; makes my fists clench in fury and rap them till they bleed, so that all the poison in my blood washes away with it.

The silent croons of the birds outside take me to a different time completely. Their familiar caws of freedom make me think of the time when I used to be a person of my own. There was a time when I used to bleat like a schoolgirl when my father used to pull me off my warm, silk-sheeted bed every morning for school. I used to come home to heartwarming platters of my favourite dishes. I used to complain about boys to my mother as she laughed at my naïveté. Her soft slender fingers brushing through my hair made me feel like I was in paradise. I miss those long walks with Baba by the serene lake as the sun peeped in through the clouds and wished me ‘good morning’. I miss my father scolding me when I did wrong and melting that frown into a smile that never missed to comfort me. I never imagined I’d miss those ferocious cat fights with my sister, with those long crimson nails digging at my arms, but I do. Who will be there for her when those haughty children try harsh her spirit? Who is going to comfort her with silent words of hope?

The memories seem to take on a different face now, one that causes my heart wrench in agony everyday.

As the night peeks to its darkest plight, dismal thoughts seep into my mind. I try to shut it out; to push away that rumination that reminds me to bellow in sorrow. But the evil of the night is too forceful in its vigor. I have to give in...

What happened to the life that I left behind when those beasts plunged me into this one? What is left of my parents when I failed to come back? Do they spend sleepless nights shedding tears for my return? Do they pray that I am alive? Is this being ‘alive’? Is being beat up and raped every night being ‘alive’?

I wonder if they know what happened; if they know how those creatures of filth took me away and brought me to my ruin. Do they know I have lost the urge to stay alive? Are they conscious of the pain and torture being inflicted on me? Do they know? Do they hear my silent sobs of rescue every night? Does anyone see the stains my tears make on my pillows; the marks of blood on the sheets?

Do they know how those demons sold me off like a little piece of toy?

So what do I do? Do I acquiesce to their monstrous commands? Do I cry my heart out in the lonely nights and toil away in the day? Do I let my life fade away right in front of me, this beautiful life that my family worked tirelessly to make perfect? Do I let it all go because escaping this hell is more grueling; because letting these devils win is easier to accomplish? Would I be able to push those arduous thoughts of being pestered and forced to live a lie away every time? Can I manage to be strong enough to live with the fact that someone sold me off like a piece of candy to a man who is twice my age? Would I be able to calm the resentment I feel towards those who snatched me from my precious life? Would I be able to live with the remorse of not being able to experience that first twinge of heartbreak, or those honeyed babbles of gossip with the people who stay by your side every step of the way? Will I miss those unfathomable words of wisdom from my father that never failed to leave me wide-eyed in an amazed confusion? Am I strong enough to leave it all behind, and be taken prisoner?

Will I be able to live without my life?

Today is different. I can feel it. The beautiful smell of freedom is creeping its way through the cracks of my door. The warmth of the sun falling at my back is comforting this time; it doesn’t burn or sting; it doesn’t force me to hide in the shade. The rattles of the dirty dishes don’t send chills down my spine. The stains on his bed do not need painful wrings to be washed off today. No one is tugging at my hair or screaming insults into my ears. I do not fear to look at myself in the mirror only to find traces of bruises here and there, screaming out the death of my dignity this time. I know my eyes will not be red with the shame of losing myself.

Rain trickles down my drained features like a thousand diamond waterfalls, as I step out. The warmth of the fire behind me is perversely comforting. The loud tortured screams coming from him through the black of the smoke is vaguely compelling. I cannot look back now. I cannot turn around and perceive what I have done. The fire sweeping everything to destruction will not take me with it this time. I have to go on.

This is my moment. This is my chance to take back my life, the one I have lost.

I will go to that place I once dreamt of. The place where the flames don’t burn, the water doesn’t make me shiver. That place where the silence doesn’t cut like glass, it molds into my existence. It welcomes me with the same fire that turned everything else to ashes.

I am alive; I am indestructible.


Note: You are not logged in, but you can still leave a comment or review. Before it shows up, a moderator will need to approve your comment (this is only a safeguard against spambots). Leave your email if you would like to be notified when your message is approved.







Is this a review?


  

Comments



User avatar
1007 Reviews


Points: 13831
Reviews: 1007

Donate
Sun Jan 26, 2014 10:13 pm
TimmyJake wrote a review...



Timmy here for a quick review!

Like all of the other reviews said, this is very powerful. I think you have placed it in the incorrect genre though. It should be in short story, instead of being in essay. You would probably get more reviewers that way!

So this was a very sad story, but one with hope. I loved your ending, absolutely loved it. This whole story has such a powerful theme to it, and so passionate and... well, sad.

I will just point out a few nitpicks while I am here!

The sickening stench of alcohol oozing from his breath makes me fall back with nausea. His bloodshot eyes are burning into mine like venom. I would’ve screamed in pain if every strand of my hair wasn’t used to the monstrous grip of this fiend.


So here I just noticed one thing. You start off your story in present tense, writing it as it happens, but then you slip back into past tense with your would've Might want to just look it over and check for spots like that.

MY roof and disrespect ME ----I think italics would have done the job nicer, and would have accentuated those words just as well.


Stop crying. Get out. Scram. Put some ice on that. We have to attend Akanda’s wedding tomorrow. ---Even though this guy is probably yelling right here, he doesn't appear to be when you have no exclamation marks or anything.


Do they know how those demons sold me off like a little piece of toy? ----Piece of toy? What do you mean here? Maybe just, sold me off like a toy?


I am alive; I am indestructible. ----There should be a period there instead of a semi-colon


Ok, that sums up my nitpicks! Very good story, like I said before... And a wonderful one to start out with here! Happy Writing!
~Timmyjake



Random avatar


wow thank you so much. I didn't really expect somebody would read it, let alone place a good review on it. :P
But I really appreciate it. I'll keep the tips in mind next time. n.n



timmyjake says...


No problem! :D



User avatar
65 Reviews


Points: 4427
Reviews: 65

Donate
Fri Jan 24, 2014 1:57 am
WallFlower says...



My computer tried to submit my review twice, so sorry for the double review. I'm new here and I'm still trying to figure everything out. :)




User avatar
65 Reviews


Points: 4427
Reviews: 65

Donate
Fri Jan 24, 2014 1:57 am
WallFlower wrote a review...



Wow. This is powerful.

The fact that you didn't even give your characters names makes it more personal. They could be us.

Your writing flows so easily. No choppiness, no jumping and leaving the reader behind. I love that you almost left it unfinished. Usually I feel like a cliffhanger makes a story seem incomplete, but this feels whole. To give it an ending almost would have taken away from it.

The paragraph with all her questions got a little long for me, but that was my only downside. Overall it's a great story



Random avatar


thank you so much! And I'll definitely work on that. :)



User avatar
69 Reviews


Points: 1013
Reviews: 69

Donate
Sun Jan 19, 2014 7:25 pm
anabelsinclair wrote a review...



Wow...
Deep breath .

Your writing has a lyrical quality to the words, it flows almost like song in my head. Your character has a powerful voice, and those vivid descriptions creates powerful images to go with the pathos dripping all over this work. Now here's the rub:

1. Long sentences: Take care with some of your sentences. As lyrical and fluid as your words are, it is easy to get carried away with descriptions and lose the actual train of thought. For example:

author wrote:"Here it comes; the moment that I am so used to. Yet it is the moment that still never fails to weaken the dread that boils through my veins as his hand swings in thin air and strikes to break whatever bone that remains unbroken in my body."


There is so much action and imagery in these two lines that my mind doesn't even know which one to focus on. There's the dread, the boil, the swing, strike and break.
Also, Did you mean to say 'awaken' the dread? If it was 'weakened' by constant abuse, then she wouldn't fear it so much. Does that make sense?

2. Sentence structure: The fifth paragraph, for me, was the most powerful part of this work. It was filled with so much detail and told me most about your protagonist, through her interactions with other members of her family. It was a solid chunk of words and writing but you pulled it off. On the other hand, I found this to be overly loaded and repetitious by the end:

author wrote:"So what do I do? Do I acquiesce to their monstrous commands? Do I cry my heart out in the lonely nights and toil away in the day? Do I let my life fade away right in front of me, this beautiful life that my family worked tirelessly to make perfect? Do I let it all go because escaping this hell is more grueling; because letting these devils win is easier to accomplish? Would I be able to push those arduous thoughts of being pestered and forced to live a lie away every time? Can I manage to be strong enough to live with the fact that someone sold me off like a piece of candy to a man who is twice my age? Would I be able to calm the resentment I feel towards those who snatched me from my precious life? Would I be able to live with the remorse of not being able to experience that first twinge of heartbreak, or those honeyed babbles of gossip with the people who stay by your side every step of the way? Will I miss those unfathomable words of wisdom from my father that never failed to leave me wide-eyed in an amazed confusion? Am I strong enough to leave it all behind, and be taken prisoner?"


I get that she's angry and fed up, and its building up to the climax. But I believe you can tighten up the sentences and send your message with fewer words.

3. Details: Big question at the end of this was Why? Why was she with this brutal man in the first place? Was she kidnapped? Failed to come back from where? And who are 'they'? You focus on one man in this work but keep pluralizing her antagonists. Can you clarify?

All in all, I liked this story, particularly the ending.
Thank you



Random avatar


Thank you for taking time and helping me out like this. I appreciate it. D:
and yes I do have some typos there. *blushes*
I'll work on everything you pointed out for sure.

and I wanted to bring forth an image of being kidnapped and then sold off to men who distributed under-age girls to brothels. And through unfortunate circumstances she caught the attention of this man.

but yes, I'll work on the details! Thank you n.n




Keep your face to the sunshine and you cannot see a shadow.
— Helen Keller