Chapter 1

Emma Carter is a 22 year old hypocondratic that wishes she could be born again. After years of bad luck, bad relationships, and bad karma, she decides to tell lies to make others believe she's OKAY.

There’s a knock at the door. But why does it feel like it’s
echoing off my chest. I walk without thinking. I door
open the door and my entire body goes rigid. All I can
hear is the pumping of my heart trying to catch a breath.
He looks the same. It’s been 5 years. Yet I still feel the
disgust in the pit of my stomach. He smiles and I bite
the inside of my cheeks. I taste blood. Of course I do.
This is bad. Why is he here. “Let me in.” I stand still.
He walks right in. Why did I let him in. I close the door.
“I missed you.” He says rubbing my arm. I want to throw
up. Why am I not moving. “I know you’re mad at me.
When are you not mad.” He laughs. “But I’m sorry. I need
you. Nothing makes sense without you. And remember what
I said, it won’t happen again Emma. God brought us together.”
I can’t breathe. I can’t move. My mouth taste bitter. I can feel
The room shifting. I can feel the lights dimming. “Come on please Emma
let’s just go back to me and you. I love you. I love you so much.”
He comes closer. My breath quickened. “I want to marry you.
And we can have a family. You know you’ve always wanted a
A family. Hell ours were always so jacked up. I can give you that.”
His lips press hard against mine. I’m numb. His tongue goes in
Between my lips and parts my teeth. I feel nothing. I’m now on
the bed. His body heat hovers over me like heavy bricks. My body
is still. His is moving. His is lingering. Up and over. I stare at the celling
while he preys his way into my secret places. His eyes are closed. The
hum of his throat buzzes in my ear. We share different melodies
in the moment. His is sweet and mine is poison. I watch the fan
make shadows on the wall but I don’t feel the breeze. I wonder
what is would be like to be an object that only has one purpose
and I pray and hope that this isn’t mine. I convulse as my body
responds to him. Clinching my teeth I wait until it’s done.
He smiles at his price and I cringe at my weakness. And I hate
My body a little more for responding when I didn’t want to.
How dare she betray us. The air has thinned. There’s no longer
hunger in the atmosphere. He makes his way the bathroom.
Turns on the shower. I follow him. My body is wet. From water
And him. I wonder what is feels like to be the water that washes
Away the bad stuff instead of the one that creates it between
my legs. But if you think about it. She too, water, is also taken
for granted. I let it drench me. I don’t scrub. What’s the point.
Would it really erase what just happened. If I used the entire
Body wash could I really erase what he did inside and out. We
Both know it can’t. So I don’t bother. I let him wrap a towel
around me. He kisses my forehead. “Good Job" he says. And I
Wonder about this ‘good' he talks about. Is it that good to
live a life in obedience. He puts on clothes. It’s as if the
universe is shining down on him. The way he smiles.
Does it make him that happy? I walk him to the door. Holding
The small towel over my naked body. “I love you” he says. His
Eyes flickered as if I could see the reflection of flames. And with
That smile I bet too, the devil also smiled. The door shut. My hands
Fumble the door lock locking every single latch. I run to the bathroom
Feeling the ground stab my feet. My body heaves while I vomit what is left
Of him into the toilet. I get into the shower. I turn the water on to the hottest
Heat and this time I scrub. I scrub until it hurts. I can feel everything. I dig my
Nails into my skin and scrape off what I can of the top layer of skin. My arms
Develop pink lines with tiny slits of bleed seeping through. The air is thick
And hot as I breathe out what I held in. How this bathroom has become
The secret holder of the things I couldn’t say. I hyperventilate. I scream.
I hit myself until I bruise. I throw myself on the floor of the bathroom
Until the pain is to much. Then I look at my reflection. I scream at her too.
“WHY. WHY DID YOU LET HIM IN. I TRUSTED YOU" I scream at her and she screams
Back at me. We blame each other fore he has taken advantage of both of us. But
How messed up we must be to keep quiet while a thief destroys our home. I cover
My hands tightly over my mouth. Don’t scream, you don’t have a right too, when you
Kept quiet when he was hurting us. I yell at myself inside my head. I squeeze my face
So hard my jaw makes a popping sound. And after I pour all my self hatred into my body
I sit quietly naked on the bathroom floor with a full stomach of pity. My shaking hands
Grip my phone tightly. I write the message. Just like the ones before. But only after
He makes his exit. Because for some reason I wear chains whenever he is around.
I hate you. I don’t love you. Don’t ever come near me again. I hope you die. I hit
Send. Did I really mean that. In that moment. Yes. I did. I place the phone next to me.
I lay on the cold tile floor. I don’t cry. It doesn’t come. The floor vibrates. I look over
Seeing the message he left. You’re going to regret that. I know I will.

Author's Note

This is the beginning. Emma starts off in a bad relationship.

What do you think?

Reviews

[JayG]

• What do you think?

As it is, it's not readable. No paragraphs. Every line begins with an upper case letter, as if it's the start of a sentence. Whatever text editor you pasted from, it's not compatible.

Use Word, Open Office, or a RTF file. Do your paragraph indents via the top ruler bar, not via tabs or leading spaces. This site translates Word documents, except for a few special characters, like an em-dash.

As for the story, itself, you're mentally watching the film version and transcribing what you see on the screen, commenting on it. In other words, it's the director's track in a DVD of a film. That can't work because we can't see what you see. And we can't know all the backstory, the characters, and your intent for how the words are to be taken by the reader.

Since you know all that, the story works...for you. But the reader will spend a lot of time saying, "Huh?"

And please...before you post anything, take the time to edit:

• I door open the door and my entire body goes rigid.
Did you proof read? It seems not.

• All I can hear is the pumping of my heart trying to catch a breath.

The character's heart is trying to catch its breath? Seriously? And in general, no one's heart is so loud that it blocks all outside noise—unless your blood pressure is so high that you're about to have a stroke.

• When are you not mad.

Punctuation counts?

Etc.

Here's the bottom line: In our schooldays we literally learn nothing about writing fiction. But the aim of the writing you're taught is to inform. That's why they had you write so many essays and reports, and so few stories.

Fiction's goal is to provide an emotional experience.But... You-can't-do-that-with-nonfiction-writing-skills. So if your goal is to write stories that will make the reader feel as if they're literally living the story in real-time, you need a set of writing techniques designed for fiction—a set of skills your teachers never mentioned as existing, because their job was to teach you the writing skills your future employers require, which means essays and reports.

So, hit the library's fiction-writing section. It's filled with useful information.

Bear in mind that nothing I said, above has to do with your talent or potential as a writer, only the learned part of the profession. So jump in. If you are meant to be a writer you'll find the learning fun. And if you don't? Well, either way, you learn something important.

[Shineheemi]

Aim, I honestly tried to understand your story, the idea of the plot you want to become was there, but i just can’t fully understand because of sentence structure, the spacing. I am new to writing, i dont know how to express my poems very well because my vocabulary is weak, so im trying to improve myself and the comments are helpful.
It’s okay to commit mistakes like that, you can edit it later after hearing the viewers’ advice.
I hope you can be what you want yourself to be.
Keep writing. :)