The Butterfly Effect

For the Puzzle Pieces contest: http://www.writerscafe.org/contests/Puzzle-Peices/9697/ in which we had to write something to include specific words/phrases.

“You trust me, don’t you?” His words brush against your ear, thin vibrations that flicker in the frigid air and scuttle through your head on razor feet. 

You open your lips, waiting, waiting, desperately waiting for the words that will cure the world to slip from your tongue, to slide through terse air and carry on the winds to every damaged corner of this earth. Please. Please. Dear God, save me. I need this. I need this now. 

“Don’t you?” he repeats, and you can almost feel his breath crystalizing in the air, clawing through the molecules spinning beneath the yellowed light that shutters its way through a window. 

He presses his weight against you, forcibly molding your body to his, the harsh stucco of the wall sinking into your back, the edge of a cheap, plastic plant at your side, paint flaking off the edge of the pottery at your touch. You don’t know why it surprises you so much. It seems the world falls apart at the brush of your fingertips these days. The world, God, the world. Can’t anyone save me now?

“I can’t seem to hold on anymore,” you whisper. The words that tremble from your lips break as they emerge and you close your eyes and watch the pieces shatter and clink against the concrete. What happened to the beauty in this world? Where did all the strawberries go? And the summer days and green grass and blue skies of my childhood? What happened to my world? 

You feel him tense against you, briefly, so briefly, and you clench your eyes tighter, willing them to meld against each together and paint your world with brighter lights. You hadn’t meant to say that. A breath. Dear God, this is all a mistake. I should have known better. 

And then he’s relaxing against you again, and his arms are pressing tighter, gripping you too harshly, but you can’t find any relief in the pain and his head is brushing against yours. “It’s okay,” he murmurs against your ear, “I can help you. I can help.” 

And his fingers are slowly slipping down your side and deep inside, your body is revolting and your gut is clenching and your ribs are cracking and you feel sick and something’s rising in your throat, but you grip your teeth and press them together and don’t bother to open your eyes. Is this it, God? Is this the answer? Please. I need an answer. 

But there is no answer, no words from the heavens, and there is nothing but the trembling, winter air, and you against the wall, and fingers are digging into your skin, and he’s murmuring worthless consolations against your ear, but they come as a sweet, sweet mercy, because he dangles the beauty of it before you, and you want the world. You want to be saved. Please. Forgive me. I need this salvation, whatever form it comes in. I need this. Please. 

Your chin gives a single jerking nod even as your muscles tighten and threatens to spasm out of your control and you want to slip out of control, but he presses against you and your icily sensitive shoulder blades drag in painful motions against the stucco wall and his breath is against yours and the world still hovers in sharp definition. Skin against skin and teeth against teeth. Please. Dear God. Please. I don’t know what to do anymore. I don’t know what this world wants from me.

He mutters something against your cheekbone, but you can’t hear him and he knows it. Is this your message, God? 

You move in unsteady motions and your gut is still protesting and acid burns in your throat and your knees give out, but you’re being ground into the wall and you know you lost control far too long ago. A butterfly flapped its wings in Africa and your world fell apart. An aardvark stole away an ant from its nest across the world and you flutter your eyes shut and revel in the beauty of the darkness.

Author's Note

Please leave any sort of comment/critique; I really appreciate it. ^^ Be as harsh as you must. I do admit I'm a bit worried I forced the words/phrases a bit. They were: "I should have known better", pottery, sensitive, aardvark, and "Where did all the strawberries go?" Thanks.

Reviews

[slemonade]

Great story. I love the 2nd person viewpoint; it was different but very well written. The story was also very intense and emotional. While reading, I was feeling whatever was being conveyed in the story because of all the great imagery and descriptions.
I do have a few suggestions, though. First, is to take a look at some of you're sentences because you wrote "you" instead of "your." They're probably just typos, but those kind of things tend to be pretty distracting while reading. Second, is that you have quite a few run-on sentences. It makes it sound like you're rambling with all the "ands" and "buts." Another thing is, though it's just my opinion, that your story doesn't really progress and there are gaps in it. I think the problem is that it is a little too vague. For example, what is she being saved from that this is her only salvation? I think what you need is a bit more action and/or some flashbacks or memories.
Otherwise this is awesome work. Keep it up! :D

[compositionc]

This was a great read. I felt like I was really there. It beyond creepy. The second person point of view is something you wrote really well. I was really impressed.

[truth]

You have written a gripping account and one that involves the right amount of description. I personally like the ands and buts as gives the sentences more character. Words like the world still hovers in sharp definition are really great. Thanks for sharing this. cheers

[James Watts]

I have to agree with slemonade. I am impressed with your writing, and do it second person is just awesome.

[The Wave]

Very nice job,
"...and you clench your eyes tighter, willing them to meld against each together and paint your world with brighter lights."
That line stood out to me the most.

The imagery and word choice really impressed me!
Overall, written very well. There were a few minor grammar/spelling errors, but nothing to nitpick over. I really liked the several brief moments where the character is speaking to God and is asking for help.

Really enjoyed this piece. You have quite some talent for your age.
Good Job

[Kaden Sylvers]

This is so powerful and surreal, like a trance. Not many things in 2nd person work that well, but this does. You use such strong diction, and it actually really doens't seem forced.

I especially liked this line "And his fingers are slowly slipping down your side, and deep inside, your body is revolting, and you gut is clenching, and you ribs are cracking, and you feel sick, and something’s rising in your throat, but you grip your teeth, and press them together, and don’t bother to open your eyes. "

Your use of description and not failing to describe the raw, ugly things too is perfect. One thing that seems out of place is when you say "Where did all the strawberries go?" It just seems....like it doesn't say enough...show don't tell....instead you could put in italics a scene from childhood, because saying "where did all the strawberries go" has a cliche feel as strawberries really seem to be referring to general innocence. But the metaphor would work better if you described a strawberry field and the rough green leaves and the bees in the field and those strawberries that are half eaten.
overall excellent job! (: