I am asleep.
Or I hope that I am. I am terrified. Watching.
My mind is here but my body is not, in horror and helplessness as a man sets a mint leaf on fire and burns the herb into my lover’s fingers.
She cries out in pain but her mouth is shoved open and the mint pushed down her throat, pain spreading through it like wildfire.
She stumbles forward, yells and cries of triumph following her collapse to the ground, using her now barren voice to send herself far, far away.
She slams herself into the door, sobs of pain and regret echoing through the land as hurried footsteps—mine—run to the door from the other side. I know what her crying sounds like. I know that it is her.
I open the door, catching in my arms a crying girl who is much too small for her feistiness, her cries unsteady and child-like. I crouch down, taking her to the ground with me and cradling her.
She grabs my arm, digging her nails in and leaving crescent moons in my skin. “It hurts!” She cries, but I do not respond.
I brush my fingers through her short hair, letting it fall over my skirt. I kiss her forehead.
“Elizabeth, it hurts!” She is pleading, not for me but to the gods, anyone, who can stop her pain.
I cradle her hands in mine, kissing each finger and ignoring the burning sensation on my lips.
“I love you,” I whisper, and I let my own tear fall, and she knows, and she sobs one more time before the burning herb reaches her heart and Sypha fades from my reach.
I bury her that night, next to the tree on our land where we would sit with our hands intertwined and heads resting on each other. She would not have wanted to be with her parents.
I stumble back into the house after hours of sitting next to her gravestone, “My Love” scratched off the rock under her name by my nails. They’re all broken now, like hers were.
My mother does not ask what happened. She knows.
My mother gives me extra food at dinner that I do not eat and sends me to bed without chores. She knows the feeling.
I wake up, but it was not a dream. She is gone.
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140,068 Literary Works • 672,978 Reviews
Hello there, human! I'm reviewing using the YWS S'more Method today!
Shalt we commence with the morbid S’more?
Top Graham Cracker - Elizabeth has watched Sypha die to some serious burns and mint leaves shoved up in her mouth. After Sypha’s death, Elizabeth buries her and goes to bed, a woman now forever haunted by the loss of her love.
Slightly Burnt Marshmallow - I have no recommendations to make as of right now. This is positively horrifying and tragic.
Chocolate Bar - I like how short it is. It does not answer a lot of questions and that adds to the unease. Elizabeth’s sadness is strong as is her love for Sypha, from how she touches Sypha sweetly. But the fact that she does not do anything to stop the man and with the Mom knowing could mean that maybe, this was some old family tradition and Sypha died because of it, like some sacrifice thing. Or maybe Elizabeth was powerless to stop it and this is a curse that follows her family. Or is Elizabeth part of a cult?! So many questions!!! But it is evident that Elizabeth truly cared for her fiancé…I’m not quite sure if Sypha is her wife, because I don’t know if they had time to be married.
Closing Graham Cracker - Overall, a sad story on how strong love is and how strong it can hurt! Maybe now Sypha can rest in peace, but Elizabeth will live in torment. Forever haunted by Sypha’s burning image, she will not be able to sleep at night, because a hole is burned in her heart and all joy from her, will part. And now…
I wish you a magnificent day/night! :>
wow!!
your writing does an excellent job of capturing that feeling of paralysis in moments of trauma. there is this continuous the sense that the narrator is both present and detached, helplessly watching something unspeakable unfold. interesting concept!! the first-person definitely benefits that type of storytelling.
still, the story could use from more exploration of elizabeth’s internal experience after sypha’s death. if people just died and we all moved on immediately, the world would function completely differently. her emotions are vividly externalized through actions [burying her, scratching the gravestone, refusing food, et cetera], but i want to see a deeper glimpse into what those actions mean to her beyond plain instinct. the story thrives on emotion, so a little extra sensory depth could make it even more immersive. there are soooo many different options to run with!!
also, there’s a minor tense consistency issue :
"She cries out in pain but her mouth is shoved open and the mint pushed down her throat."
> "pushed” should be “is pushed” to keep the tense consistent. if something is happening to her first in order of succession, the second act can't be already completed. her mouth has to be opened before the mint goes down.
you have a clear talent for atmosphere and emotion, but my biggest drawback is that there isn't enough detail to understand why those are important!! elaborate on the why behind the story
thank you!! the basics of it is the two tried to get married, but as they were two women, sypha was killed. I wrote this for my friends who already knew that and forgot to elaborate on here. that one line missing the is was a typo - whoops !! thanks for your feedback.
This is very beautiful. At first I had not understood why the mint leaves were burning here, then I understood. It is a sad story, but it is an amazing one. The last few paragraphs are heartbreakingly tender, and show the sad story of Elizabeth and Sypha.