Chapter 1
Ivy Henderson rested behind an old pine desk that sat kitty-corner to an electric piano. The wood floor was stained with years of rolling her chair from the desk to the piano. Her beautiful green eyes scanned the page before her intently. She sighed and counted the marks her pencil had made.
“8… but that’s not right.” She pushed the chair from the desk and the old wheels slid across the floor, following almost the exact path the black curving lines did.
Ivy positioned the paper she had been working on into the music holder.
“1…2…3…4,” she counted as she pecked at the keys. “Ah ha! How could I have been so blind? It’s so obvious!” she gawked as she rolled her chair back to the desk. She made a few marks on the paper then rolled back to the piano.
To nearly anyone else the work would have been dull, monotonous labor, but to Ivy, it was an escape.
“Ivy! Ivy, baby, please open the door,” a sweet, gentle voice sounded from the other side of the locked door. Ivy glanced up briefly and scanned the door. It, like everything else in the house, was old, and the paint was fading. She sighed. She didn’t want to get up and let her mother in.
“Can I finish this line, please?” she begged as she bent over the paper again.
“Ivy, I know how long it takes you to write one line of those things!” her mom groaned. “You’ve written enough to fill the entire music store!”
“Mom,” Ivy laughed, “I’ve only written eighteen pieces. And the only reason Dr. Van Diesel has plastered my pieces all over the wall of his store is because I’m his good friend!”
“And…”
“And I have won a scholarship to the most prestigious music school of our times.” Ivy grinned widely as she opened the door.
“Why, yes, that famous fifteen-year-old musician is my daughter... Why do you ask?” her mother asked an imaginary person. “And she gets prettier every year!” She cupped Ivy’s chin in her hands and smiled fondly. After a moment she sighed and ran her fingers through her hair. “I came up to tell you that it's time for your appointment.”
“Appointment? Oh, yeah… Dr. Wolfe. Mom, please call it off today. I’ve gone to that man for three months and nothing is happening. My dreams are still the same. The feelings haven’t lessened. He isn’t doing any good!”
“These things… everything you say that happens at night… they’re freaking me out, sweetie! But you’re right… by now he should have given us something---anything!”
“So you’ll call it off? Please, mom.” Her mom sighed.
“Yes, today I’ll call it off.”
“And maybe we can go get some chocolate afterwards?”
“Sounds like a plan. Come on, baby, let’s go.”
Chapter 2
“Mrs. Henderson, may I have a word with you?” the old man asked in a chilling voice.
“Yes, of course, Dr. Wolfe. Is something wrong?” Ivy’s mother asked as she stepped into the man’s cold, dimly lit office.
“No---at least I can’t find anything wrong. You see, Mrs. Henderson, your daughter’s description of how she feels is rather disturbing, but that’s all it is---a description. I can’t find any cause, rhyme, or reason for what she has told me. For the last three months I’ve tried every method I know to burrow down to the cause, but I’ve come up with nothing!” He paused and ran his fingers through his slightly graying hair. “I’ve even talked to my friends and partners. They are just as baffled. Mrs. Henderson, I hate to say it, but I don’t think I can help her. Therapy isn’t your answer, and I’m afraid I can’t tell you what would be. I’m sorry. I really am.” The man bowed his head, with a look on his face like he had a signed a deed to cancel his entire business.
“Dr. Wolfe, I know you did everything you could. And I really do appreciate you for trying your best.” She sighed. “Well… I suppose this is good bye. Here is your check for these last two times. I believe that’s all I owe you?” She waited for him to nod, and when he did she continued, “Thank you, very much, and I know it’s not your fault.” She got up and showed herself out. The meeting had flustered her in more ways then one. First, her daughter’s problems had proven unsolvable. Second, she had expected to drop out, but him dropping them was… startling.
“Shall we go for that chocolate now?” Ivy asked happily as her mother emerged.
“Yes,” her mom managed through her bouncing thoughts.
“What’s wrong? Did he get mad at you for leaving without the problem solved?”
“No… he dumped us.”
“What? Why?”
“He gave up!”
“Well, that just makes me feel great!” Ivy grumbled loudly as they reached the car.
“Let’s just try not to think about it. Besides, you, missy, have been awarded a scholarship!”
“Yeah!” Ivy squealed.
A dark fudge slab was the treat she chose when her mother asked her, “Just what chocolate would you like?” They bought enough for an army, and then drove to the park. Sitting under the shady Bradford pears enjoying the delightful treat was heavenly.
“Mom, why is it, do you think, that I’m ‘inexplicably’ having these night mares… these feelings?” Ivy asked through a bite of the deeply delicious chocolate.
“OH what I wouldn’t give to know why!” Her mom exclaimed setting her chocolate in her lap and looking her Ivy in the eyes. “You really are a brilliant girl. But why, how…” She sorely gave up trying to put her frustration into words
“When ever those lights go out I can feel it.” Ivy whispered her chocolate forgotten in her lap “It’s like something alive in me eating my flesh from the inside out.” She paused. “You remember why I don’t do sports?”
“Yes… it’s because you and your father both had a history of asthma.”
“Well… I know that you don’t want to hear this… but I think it’s coming back. Every day when I wake up my chest hurts a little worse and my breathing gets a little harder. Momma, in the day the pain is bearable, but at night… I always find myself wondering if I’ll wake up the next day.” She stared at her mother as if hoping that she would say something that would cure it. Her mom simply bit her lip.
“Oh honey! Asthma doesn’t kill every one. In fact for most people it’s just an annoying thing.” She said it more to herself then to Ivy. After a pause Ivy took a deep breath and whispered.
“I’m really sorry about dad. And you don’t have to worry I’ll be fine.” She broke off a piece of fudge and slowly ate it. It tasted so good! It really made it hard to morn or be worried. On the verge of a smile she took another bite. Oh how she loved chocolate!
When the last crumb was eaten the two had to go back to their house. Not surprisingly, the rest of the day flew by, as Ivy stayed in her room all day finishing up the music she had left.
But when night came it felt like time stopped. Ivy sighed and tossed about in her bed. She loved the darkness, and she loved being alone, but this was unbearable. The stark white walls seemed to close in on her, but she was afraid to go to sleep, because she knew he’d be waiting for her in her dreams. She felt his presence all day, but then she could keep busy enough to ignore it. Her heart longed to see him, yet feared him more than death itself. She had no idea who this man was that haunted her dreams; whose face it was that was etched so deeply within her memory that she could see him clearly when she closed her eyes. The image was so real she could count the number of hairs on his head. His beady, cold eyes bore into her.
She gasped and shot up.
“What was that?” she whispered out loud, but regretted it. Her voice vanished into the cold air, its sound bouncing off no one's ear, reminding her she was alone, alone and vulnerable. The bright moon cast eerie shadows on her walls. She could see clearly. She could see she was helpless.
She ground her teeth and clenched her fists. ‘He’s not real! Nothing … no one is out there to get me,’ she assured herself, but even her thoughts sounded shallow. Her logic was no match to her abounding fear. ‘It’s never this bad!’ she cried out in her mind. ‘It was just normal fear, but this… I can’t live with this!’ She contemplated going to her mom’s room as she had years ago. She remembered doing it nearly every night. Her heart pounded. Her lungs screamed. She recalled the comfort her mom had given her. Her eyes darted from shadow to shadow.
Suddenly she swung her legs over the edge. The chill bit at her skin. And as soon as her feet touched the icy floor, she bolted. Fear tore at her heart and soul--- she needed relief from this nightmare!
She flung open the door and burst down the hall. But she stopped short at the top of the stairs… the shadows around her danced. She put her hand to her heart and felt the faint, rapid beats of terror. ‘It’s my imagination,’ she assured herself silently. Taking a deep difficult breath she forced her foot forward. Suddenly, a man was in front of her, blocking her path. She screamed, but his hand shot up to her mouth with inhuman speed, muffling her cries.
“Going somewhere?” he asked, his voice dripping with a thick German accent.
Ivy’s heart fluttered and her world turned black.
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125,008 Literary Works • 672,827 Reviews
AGH this is driving me insane! The more I flesh it out the more boring it seems! What do I do!?
See Note before my editing of Prologue.
OK. I had this whole thing edited perfectly and thoroughly and then I made a stupid mistake and deleted the whole thing, and now I don't have time to do the whole explaining bit, so if you would please trust me enough to copy and paste the whole quote and edit your story thus, I would be obliged. This is spelling, sentence structure, and punctuation only; story comments will be given at the end.
Whew. Exciting.
Uh... comments. Okay, here are some.
Try rephrasing that; it sounds a little old fashioned and awkward.
How about "I've been going to that man for three months and..." or something? It would eliminate a lot of confusion and sound a little better.
As for the story itself, I noticed that you blended a lot of old timey stuff with modern stuff, like the going out for chocolate, or how they scarcely ever use contractions, or the way Ivy says "shall" so casually. Why don't you try, for example, "Can" instead of "shall" (it's bad grammar, but it sounds realistic so try it---wait, did I say that?
Also, like Joanna, your story is kind of "This happened that happened this happened" in some places. I understand it (my writing is unbelievably choppy when I'm trying to get to the exciting part!) but I don't like it. Flesh it out a little bit. Tell us about their conversation at the park. Maybe, like Sorsha suggested, they talk about her dreams, or maybe Ivy asks about her long lost father, or something?
Just to expand on what was previously mentioned- the characters are too flat.
There is no description of what they look like or any real depth to thier personality. It does feel like it's moving rather quickly, the best part of the story for me was where she started to freak out with the room going cold, quiet and eerie.
We need to see the surroundings, envision the character. Maybe she's a petite blond with unkempt, curly hair and the misty blue eyes of a day dreamer, stark in contrast to her mother who is a middle aged, curvy, dark hair haired beauty. Also, give them more personality in thier dialogue, more expression. What's thier bodylanguage, facial movement, etc?
One thing made me curious - why would the mother be upset that the doctor had opted to terminate his sessions when both the daughter and she had been about to do the same? This should come more as a relief then a nuisance. Unless she never really wanted to call off therapy
There's a few redunancies with words or scentences ie: the fact that they are going out for chocolate is mentioned like a gillion times and gets to be repetative and mildly annoying. Why don't you make it something like 'ice cream' and they go to a little shop around the corner and have a chat about Ivy and her 'dreams' this way you can give the reader more information about what exactly is going on. ie: "I told you mom. They're always the same. I close my eyes and I'm surrounded by cold and mist. I can't see anything at first, then there's a shadow - slowly it takes the shape of a man. Someone I've never seen before. He's handsome but cruel; his eyes aren't natural...." etc, etc,.
You have the bones for a good story, now you just have to beef it up and it will be so much better.
Great start over all.
Thank you for posting!
I only read the first chapter but it seems like you have a good plot. You seem to switch POV's a lot which makes it seem like a play in a way. To make this story better, more believable you should try putting this in first person. Also it seems like you're going too fast. I mean, why should anybody care about your characters. If we were to see them walking down the street we wouldn't know them from angels. Describe the characters, set the tone, create the setting. Flesh them out as if they were people you really got a chance to make. Other than that, you have an ok start. Just follow my advice and trust me, this story will be even better.
Keep writing and good luck,
Angel