White Heron {1}

I wonder if my dad really affected me all that much. I always hear of stories where when one undergoes serious childhood trauma, they would have either recurring nightmares about those experiences or be terminally depressed.

I do remember that day well, though. 

I view it through a television: unreachable. Close.

Looking at my own reality through a protective screen, not my own raw vision.

Enraged, his eyes. He was concentrated only on her. That they were in my room didn't occur to him., for his predator focus was upon his prey. He would not be abstracted.

The knife that glinted in his hand was an extension of his arm. There was no separation between them, for they were one with the same purpose.

The lips over his sharp teeth. A wolf's maw. Such a tool for weak vermin to break underneath. They thirsted for her blood. His hands called for her flesh, and in her eyes she saw the man she had loved no longer a man, but a beast.

The cry of her panic sent me away to the shelter of my bed, once used for a fortress of child's play. I did not try to save her.

They left my room. She had trashed away from his grip and hurried away. A mere game of cat and mouse. Merely a game.

__________________________________________________________________________________

Do you want to come with me or stay with your mom?

A brown bag over his shoulder. His body hunched over me as a giant.

A small child who was given a choice she did not understand. Stay or go. . . .

Where are you going?

I'm going away.

Why?

I can't stay. Your mom doesn't want me here anymore. Do you want to come with me?

I left him bent over as if I were still there.

My mother slept soundly--a lamb spared from slaughter.

I woke her with my fists. I hated her. Why didn't she want daddy anymore? Why? 

When her eyes met mine though, I wanted her arms around me. 

His words hit me over and over again. I can't stay. I can't stay. I can't stay.

When we searched the house, we found that he could not.

__________________________________________________________________________________

Years passed. My mother and I moved in with her boyfriend in Denver.

I liked him. I really like him. He was my best friend, and he was so different from my dad. He and I watched Seinfeld when he was home on the weekends back from long days and nights trucking. George Costanza was my favorite character. I thought George was his favorite too. I called him Georgie Boy for a long time before I realized that his favorite was Jerry.

I called him Willy after that because his name was William. My mom loved him, and I loved him. He loved us. 

When he and I went to the 7-Eleven, we bought Euro sandwiches for lunch after our bike rides.

It's funny because he said that I was the only child he ever loved. By the way he acted it seemed he'd had a lot of practice; knowing how to love really well.

He and my mom ruined the best era of my life, I thought at the time. They had a baby. That baby was my little brother.

Before Willy and I went into the hospital room, he leaned close to my face, tears in his eyes and told me not to think he would love my brother more than me. He loved me first, and I was special.

Somewhere in me, I didn't believe it. 

The baby was really ugly and looked old. His eyes looked bugged out and I didn't like him. I was more interested in the TV that was playing a good episode of FRIENDS. I tried to ignore the cooing noises, and my mom talking on the phone to her mother about the baby.

After he nursed, I held him. He was asleep, which made connecting with him harder. I remembered in movies, where if someone was jealous of a baby, their hearts were changed because the baby gazed into their eyes and held onto their finger with their tiny hand. He was still asleep.

He was really warm, though. He was shaped like a big kidney bean in my seven-year-old arms. My mom took a few pictures, and picked him up because he started to cry. I thought that maybe if he liked me first, I would like him back.

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Carlito
Review
Carlito wrote a review · Fri Jun 19, 2015 6:10 pm

Hello! I'm back for more, and I'm going to take a slightly different approach with this review.

First section:
I'm not really sure what's going on. So we have the introduction where Marisol first meets this girl and is reflecting on this girl. Then we jump ahead to Marisol (I'm assuming) talking about her dad. When is this happening in relation to the introduction? Is Marisol still the narrator? I'm really confused about why we jumped from that to this. I don't see how they connect or what this has to do with the story.

I view it through a television: unreachable. Close.

Looking at my own reality through a protective screen, not my own raw vision.

This part really confused me. When I first read that first line, I thought it meant she saw her dad do something on TV, but then when I read more it seemed like she was actually there, so I'm not really sure what to think.
That second line really, really confuses me. I'm not sure what you're trying to say with that line.

I liked the metaphor throughout and the way it created some distance from the actual event. How old is Marisol when she witnesses this? I'm guessing fairly young and this is her way of processing it because she doesn't know how else to process it?

Even though the metaphor was nice, I'm a little confused about exactly what she saw (like where was she in relation to what happened) and what exactly happened. Who is the woman he's attacking? Her mother?

Middle section:
I liked this part better. I really like your concise style.

I left him bent over as if I were still there.

This line and
When we searched the house, we found that he could not.

confused me.
I'd read them out loud.

With this section, I actually got a better picture and understanding of what was going on than the first section. Maybe because you kept things more simple, I don't know. I think I get the first part (dad abused mom and she witnessed it), but it was a lot more confusing than this part.

Last section:
This is interesting. I liked her feelings about the baby and feeling left out and like her life was ruined because of the baby - that seems pretty realistic to me.

However, this whole last section is very tell-y. Really, this whole chapter is. It's just the narrator (I'm assuming Marisol) telling us about her life. There are interesting bits in it, but it would be a lot more exciting if there was action. Dialogue. Setting. Description. Take us there. Let us feel it right alongside her.

I'm also not sure how this relates to the introduction. When you introduced us to the unnamed girl - that was showing. I thought this chapter would be more about that. The backstory about her family is interesting, but see if you can weave it into the story more without dumping it on us. Give us more action and plot and find places where you can sprinkle this stuff in and show us what her relationship is like with her family.

Let me know if anything is confusing or if you have any questions! :)

Hey hey hey I am here for a review. Overall this was a really good starting chapter. Though there are things I would like to point out.

"I do remember that day well, though. "
Unless your main character was trying to make this a dramatic pause, After the well there should not be a comma. You know, I'm looking at this right now again. To be honest I think you should have just left it as "I do remember that day well." and end it at that. The 'though' and the comma just don't do anything, but drag it out. And that's not cool.

Next up:
"They thirsted for her blood."
At first I was confused. I was confused when you said they the whole time. But this was the shortest sentence to point it out in. I'm thinking it's the father and his knife? Probably. But next time please make it clearer or something. Cause if I was confused at first to that,most likely other readers will be too. And that is not good.

Okay just make sure you read for grammar mistakes. I like your description. Not too much not too little. Just right. And that is the best way to go.

Also I wanna tell you one of your sentences remind me of when I was a kid and I met my little cousin.
". I thought that maybe if he liked me first, I would like him back."
This reminds me of when i was younger because I did not like my cousin at first. So I was unsure if he liked me too. But he did like me and I grew to like him back. (We were best friends until he turned 11 aha which was two years ago aha).

Overall this was great! I can't wait to read more from you! Have a nice day!

User avatar
Lael
Review
Lael wrote a review · Thu Jun 18, 2015 5:13 pm

I think that you should change "I view it through a television" a little, because she's not really watching her memory in a TV. So maybe instead you should say "I view it like a television show" or something like that.

"Enraged, his eyes. He was concentrated only on her. That they were in my room didn't occur to him., for his predator focus was upon his prey. He would not be abstracted." I think that this paragraph needs some work. Perhaps you could say "His eyes were enraged. His concentration was on her. That they were in my room didn't occur to him, because his predatory focus was upon his prey. He would not be distracted."

"She had trashed away from his grip and hurried away." What do you mean "trashed away?" Do you mean something like "She thrashed out of his grip and hurried away."?

The last thing: in the second to last paragraph, when you talk about how she tried to connect with her brother, I think that for the last sentence, you should add a "But" to the beginning of it. So basically, "But he was still asleep" because you just talked about what happens in movies, so you're comparing the movies and her reality.

Nice job, though. Keep it up! :)



Most things happen for a reason. Though, usually, the forces that be are immature enough that the reason is comedy.
— WeepingWisteria