Published April 18, 2008
[Note: I know that the last 2 of my pieces have been in first person. That's been a change for me since I usually write in third person. While I'm trying different styles of writing, I think this would be written best in 2nd person (please correct me if this style isn't called that). If you are a straight male or a gay female... well excuse the voice it's written in. Just judge the actual content. Critique harshly, and if you like this, check out my other two stories... preferably "and it's quite lovely" Thanks]
You hold your stomach. It's protruding out. There's a baby in there, you say to yourself. There's not father, you are a freak of nature. Somehow you're with child.
Under any normal circumstances you would freak out, but somehow you have compassion for this small alien inside you. You would do anything to protect it, and you feel whole, complete for once.
You walk down the road, and up the stairs to the apartment you grew up in. You stroke your stomach and whisper, that's where I grew up. You keep walking, but then you decide to sit down. You're tired, and the baby is moving. You smile, but it's a sad smile; you know something horrible is going to happen. Some thing's wrong. Your side cramps up and you gasp for breath.
Blood runs down your legs.
You frown, that's not supposed to happen.
You realize that you've had a miscarriage, and you can't seem to cry. You just lay there, feeling horrible, feeling as if it was your fault. Why, why couldn't it have lived?
You wake up in your bed and you realize it was a dream. Although it was a dream, it still feels real. You long for that feeling of completion. You try to shake the feeling, but it's clinging.
You roll over and try to remember last night. The memories are awfully cloudy, and you still can't see straight.
Mother of God, and virgin...
You roll out of your bed and stumble down the hall to the kitchen. You hate coffee, but you hit the power button on your roommates pre-set coffee machine. You grab a mug and lean against the counter, waiting for the coffee machine to beep, saying "Hey! I'm done. Drink me!". You hear the beep, which sounds like thunder this morning, and fill your mug up. You take a sip of the bitter, black coffee and automatically feel a little better.
...hail Mary, full of grace...
You sit at the makeshift coffee table, it's just a card table. The morning light floods in, stabbing your brain with a million little daggers. You close your eyes and put them on the table, your cheek leaning against the mug of liquid warmth. The sweet aroma of the coffee brings a few memories into focus, and you gasp. You snuggle closer the the coffee cup, you're so cold, and the warmth envelopes you.
...the lord is with you...
Flickers of memory flash before your eyes, like slides placed out of order. Beer spilt on your dress, a very beautiful man helping you, lips pressed gently against your neck, a tongue traced down your shoulder, clothes strewn across the floor...
You cross yourself and take another gulp of coffee. This ritual brings you back to earth, to your reality. The responsible one.
...blessed art thou among women...
More images flicker in front of you, as if you are watching a movie. Finishing your exam yesterday, your roommate making you go to this stupid party, a fight that knocks over a beer, a mental breakdown, a man helping you stand up and wipe away tears, the thrusting, yes, yes...
...and blessed is the fruit of the womb...
What have you done? You fold your hands as if to pray, close your eyes, and words don't come. Scenes come back to you, shuffled like a deck of cards. Your roommate leaving you at the party, number 37a on your exam, stressful drinking leading to tipsiness, getting a ride home, being invited into the party, the sweet smell of his hair, his arms caressing you and hiding you from every fear...
...for thou hast given birth to the Saviour of our souls...
You sit there, trying to pray. For no reason at all. You've lost faith, but yet you still pray. No prayers come, but Hail Marys ring in all corners of your mind. The more you try to meditate, to clear your mind, the clearer the memories become. You were stressed out from the exam, and your roommate wanted you to come with her for a party, "to blow off some steam" she said. She left you there, and you were already drunk. There was a fight between a couple of guys, and a beer went flying into your lap. You started to cry like you were five, and curled up into a ball...
...Holy Mary, Mother of God...
You looked up into the light. The daggers were not as lethal now, more like a daunting annoyance. The memories form in swirls, and come faster and faster. This man, around your age, wrapped his arms around you. You cried in his arms for awhile, and he waited till you were done. He wiped the remaining tears from your face and helped you up. He drove you to Starbucks to sober you up, and back to your house. Your dress was stained with beer, and he gently helped you out of it...
...pray for us sinners...
It started with a kiss on the cheek. It developed into something more. Your body pressed up against his. Him holding you up, holding you together. Somehow you two were both naked, you were running your fingertips across every inch of his skin, the constant pushing and pumping, faster and faster, till lights collided with sound and a brilliance of light shined through, then just darkness...
...now and at the hour of our death...
It was your first time, as much as you wouldn't admit it to anyone else. You've done stuff, but you've always kept that part of your record clean. How carelessly you threw it away, and the way you'll never see this man again. You aren't particularly religious, and yet you can't seem to shake the feeling like something inside of you died. You shake your head and finish the coffee. Later that day you'll walk into a coffee shop, and see that man. He'll give you a smile and a little wave, and you'll walk over. You'll find what died in you in him. Beyond that day, who knows what will happen, but in this perpetual circle of life and death, only good and bad lay ahead. You can handle it though. You have no choice but to.
...Amen.
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141,364 Literary Works • 674,382 Reviews
The promised critique! The numbers next to the highlighted parts correspond with the numbered comments below.
NOTE: I took out 'Amen,' because I had no comments on it and it was the only word on the last page.
Highlighted Comments
1. I’d delete this.
2. She’s actually speaking, so no italics, but there should be quotation marks.
3. This format shouldn’t be used so often. Rewording, please?
4. Slow this down a bit – let us feel the pain.
5. Combine with the previous paragraph – it’s not strong enough on it’s own.
6. Rushed much? Slow it down. Let us feel the confusion of waking up, blinking of the eyes, everything.
7. I really don’t like this part…
8. She takes out her eyes and puts them on the table?
9. Suggestion: warm mug. Liquid warmth sounds odd…
10. Odd reaction, and what memories?
11. Don’t like this wording…
12. Is the ‘a’ a typo?
13. I don’t like the repetition of ‘shake’ here…
14. A little confusing.
Overall Comments
I’m a little stuck here. I loved it and didn’t at the same time, so please forgive me if my critique is a little contradictory.
Firstly, I loved how well you handled the sex scene. A lot of people try to turn it into porn, but you told it tastefully.
I also think the second person worked rather well here. I’m not sure why…this is a hard piece to critique. L
I didn’t like how much you repeated what happened. A little bit of repetition is fine, but by the third time it was getting old. (The time right before we learn what she did.)
I’m really not sure how much I like the prayer. It looks amazing, but it doesn’t seem to fit. (The ellipses did work, though.) Maybe show how unreligious she is, but have her bow her head in prayer at the end? *Shrug* I’m not really sure, but if you do what I suggested, you’ll need to end there, and show us the emotions, rather than let us watch her go to the coffee shop.
Final comment is the rushed dream. Don’t let her realize everything so quickly!
You have a nice little piece here. From what I’ve read of you, you’re a great author, and you said you post your first drafts! With a little editing, this will be excellent. Do consider ending with her praying, though – I think that would work really well.
Good luck, and happy editing! PM me with any questions, or if you’d like me to read anything else of yours!
~JFW1415
Oh, one more thing. I just read your critiques, and you said you made her wake up that way because it's not scary. I don't want it to be scary, but I don't want it so sudden. Maybe show how calm she is? She'll wake up, her eyes slowly adjusting, her eyes blinking, the weight of the sheets returning to her...stuff like that. Just so you don't say 'you wake up.'
Great job! The second person was awkward for the lonest time, but at the end it blurred out into not caring what "person" its in.
Thanks for all who critiqued, or just bothered to read this. I realize this has no real "point", but I thought it was interesting.
Okay, truth is I have to write a novel around this scene, because the girl... well I actually have to transfer this to third person... has a whole life story in my head. It's insane.
And I agree with most of ya'lls comments, but the reason it isn't more dramatic when she wakes up is because it's not a dramatic part. I didn't want to go cliche with the scary dream thing. Mostly because I've had this dream before, and I didn't wake up freaking out, it was just... accepted. I don't know.
But anyways, thank you so much for critiquing this!
I really appreciate it!
Now I'm going to go watch the scrubs marathon.
Love, Peace, All That Jazz,
-Chanelmarie x]
Hello there. Right, I did enjoy this piece and I liked the second person narrative. It could have worked in 1st or 2nd as well.....I don't think it really changes the story itself.
I apologise if I repeat anything somebody else has said before:
You have used the word 'freak' again and not for any dramatic affect. Consider re-phrasing this so the word isn't repeated. I understand that you have used it in a different context but I still think that you can find a better word to use here.
Perhaps change 'going' to 'about'. It just flows nicer and it seems more instant.
Consider re-phrasing? As it is it sounds clunky and not very mature for some reason. 'Although it was a dream' is a bit unnecessary.
Semi colon instead of comma.
This is good and I think you could comment on it being uncontrollable.
'She said' is a tad unnecessary. You could probably scrap that completely.
'till' should either be 'til or it should be until. I think the latter works better.
You seem to contradict yourself a bit and to be honest it's just confusing. You need to structure this part/paragraph a bit more.
Overall a good piece. I found the story itself was enough to hold my attention and I think it didn't matter that it didn't really have much of a..........point? Aim I think the word is. It works well that way, without a visible one. There was deeper meaning, with the prayer and the philosophy at the end, so it was good.
*thumbs up*
Keep writing,
Alainna
xxx
Hello, and welcome to YWS!! Je m'appelle Stella, and I shall be your critiquer today.
Okay, I actually found second person quite interesting, and I encourage you to continue experimenting.
Okay, I'm not going to put the whole thing here, but the parts that I do... comments, corrections and compliments in bold...
Oh right now I get it, she isn't really pregnant
Overall, I actually quite enjoyed it. To tell the truth, there wasn't much of a story, she wakes up with a hangover and tries to remember what happened, but I did think it was well done.
Keep writing!
PM me if you have any questions!
-Stella x
I think this wasn't bad, but really I would avoid second person.
) and some of it is more telling than showing. Try to avoid saying 'you do this, then you do this...' Or it turns into simply a list of things that happen. 
People are most likely to avoid reading it, as second person can come across as quite awkward. The piece would still work in first or third person though and I like the layering of the prayer and other description.
Don't forget to check your grammar (there are a few mistakes in there, can't remember where, can't be bothered to go and look
It's good, but I'm not much of a fan of second person.
Ok, well, there wasn't many mistakes that I saw.
I wasn't digging the "..." in front and after each line of the prayer. Maybe take those out?
Meeehh.. I think I'll leave the harsh critique to the smarter people.