Chapter 01 - First Blood

Experience Kim's first love as if it was yours.

CHAPTER 1 �" First Blood

I am immortal. I will never die.

Of course I don’t mean that in the literal sense. You see, I am just an ordinary human �" never special, never noteworthy, never free. I have two eyes, to see. Nose, to breath. Ears, to hear. Mouth, to speak. Skin, to feel. My mind, to think. And my heart, to love.

If you think this is gonna be a typical romance story everybody loves, then let me tell you off right here. This is not. This is not even a love story. This is my fight for justice.

“Kim.” Cecilia calls for me from behind.

I turn and kiss her lightly on the cheek. “It’s been a while, Cecil. How have you been?”

“Just so and so.” She chuckles. “Welcome to my party.”

“Your send-off, party.”  I put the emphasis on the term, send-off. “It’s too bad that we get to see each other this rarely but then you’re leaving.”

“We have the internet. We can still connect!”

I smirk, and follow her inside the hall.

“One more thing, I’d only be gone for a few years. I’ll be back once I finish my doctorate.”

I smirk. “You know, I really hate these… glamour, the people �"”

“But you love me well enough to be setting that aside for me.” She cuts. Well, she’s a good friend, after all. “Thank you, for coming.”

The warm lights sparkle upon the feast of Japanese delicacies scattered on the table. That salmon looks even juicier under the warm light. The drinks pour like a fountain of divine waters on delicate champagne glasses. The orchestral music fills the room with luxurious winds of grandeur. Everybody is in clothes that are well-sewn and slick �" some sexy and some not too revealing of one’s skin.

I dance with Cecilia on the floor, by one-two-three, one-two-three, one-two-three, one-two-�"

“Sorry.” I heard him gasp as we bumped. I bowed my head a little and picked up to the dance.

“He’s cute, isn’t he?” Cecilia asks with a chuckle.

“Well, he is.” I say, with a small grin on my face. “Brave of you to invite your ex in this party.”

“It’s alright.” She smiles, like she was saying she’s glad it happened. “It was long ago, and we are good friends now.”

I curve my lips and sneer. That’s right b*****s, I’m not straight.

“I will need to go in a while.” She says. “The program’s starting.”

“Okay, and I’ll go keep my introvert self a company somewhere near.” I say, laughing.

We bowed and went our separate ways.

“Welcome to our princess’ party.” Her mother’s voice echoes throughout the hall. “As you all know, she will be pursuing further studies in another country and this party is to celebrate how far she’s got and to have a blast on how farther she will go. Cheers everyone!”

Through the applause, I stealthily make my way outside of the hall. I’ll just be back later when it’s done. I just can’t feel comfortable whenever I’m with a lot of people. Upon exiting the door, I make my way through the stairs to the top floor with an open balcony. This inn is not that big, so three floors is not that taxing, physically.

I embrace the evening breeze that flows so freely �" the freshest you can get amidst the worsening pollution. I find it sad that the sparkling stars are not the same as they were years before. But still, they’re better to look at than the blinding lights in the hall.

I feel a presence beside me through the dark ambiance.

“Hey there.” It’s Cecilia’s ex.

“Hello.” My polite response.

“I’m sorry if I’m being nosy, but can I ask you about you and Cecil?” He asks. I can’t help but notice his sparkling eyes. “I mean what’s the score between you two?”

“You always saw us together back in university, you know it.” I say with a chuckle.

“Yeah, but… I didn’t know you before.” He reaches for his hair by the forehead, as if confused.

“Oh, we never talked back then.” I smirk. “You probably didn’t know but I’m… not straight. So technically, we’re just good friends.”

A pause. Of course these details could be shocking. But I didn’t expect to be the one shocked the next few seconds. “Thought so.”

“What?!” I exclaim, albeit softly. “What do you mean?”

“Well, you had something about you that I always noticed…”

“Oh my god, was I obvious?”

“Well, you’re pretty.” He smiles cheekily. “I don’t mean handsome. I mean Pretty.”

I’m ecstatic about that compliment but I’m starting to feel a something suspicious about this guy’s character.

“Frankly speaking, I feel some air about you too.” I say, joking. “Did you really love Cecil?”

And then there goes the earliest plot twist I never expected.

“Well, Cecil and I never dated.”

I drop my mouth in shock. “Oh, I didn’t expect this…”

“Let me ask you this once, did she ever cry about me?”

Recalling our college years, there was never a time when Cecil cried nor had any problems with this guy. “N… no.”

“Well, you see. We were very close that people mistook us for a couple, and I was never obvious.”

And that key word… He’s similar to me. Probably bi.

“Oh my god.” I reach for my mouth as I think about old times. “But she said you were her boyfriend! And you were always together after our last subject!”

“Haha! She must have just dismissed it that way since there were also rumors around, and I had an image to protect.” He pauses. “You see, we were club mates before so we always had to be together due to club activities. But it had always been clear between us �" there’s just none but friendship. We’re just very close.”

“I see.” I sigh. “Well there are things that good friends don’t share anyway, right?”

He smiles, the brightest that I have ever seen.

“Anyway, with all that, do you still remember my name?”

It took me quite a while before I answered. “It’s Jacob, right?”

“You really have a very sharp memory, Kim.” We both laugh. He arranges himself. “I just felt like going to the hall to get a tequila, but I’ll be back here. Do you want me to bring you some?”

“You’re so polite.” He looks a little confused. “Okay. One glass.”

“Here you go, Kimmy.” Jacob hands me the champagne in the gentlest manner. “Cheers.”

We clump our glasses together and one-up each straight to our throats. “That was refreshing. Haha!”

I focus my eyes on his. They are sparkling, that it looks glittery under the moon light. I hate people, but perhaps I’ll be having a sumptuous conversation with this guy tonight. “So… it’s been a while since we graduated and it’s longer since I last saw you. You were… ‘together’ with Cecil in third year, right?”

“Right. I actually shifted courses, so I had to extend by one more year, asides from the fact that you’re both older than me.”

“That’s another shock, haha!” I proceed to gaze back at the sky. It’s also sparkling with stars, just like his eyes. “Cecil only told me a few things about you so I really didn’t know that much.”

“Would you like to know me better?” He asks. I look back in awe. I can’t help it; he actually sounds romantic. “The night is long, we can talk and talk and talk.”

“If you’re hitting on me, then that’s very bold of you.” I say with a laugh. “Bold, but innocent.”

He answers with a serious tone. “Actually I have something to inform you, Kim.”

“What is it?” Although I have an idea of where this conversation is leading, I’m making the situation comfortable for him, he’s not that bad anyway. “I’m open to whatever that is.”

“I hope you don’t find this disgusting,” he looks down and I can see him shyly blushing. “but I actually had a crush on you back then.”

I could imagine myself giving him the sweetest smile. “That’s sweet, Jacob.”

I put my hand on his face and guide him to look at me. Looking at him, he’s cute. He has this really innocent look on his face. “I bet Cecil never knew this, or did she?”

“No.” He speaks softly. I take back my hand.

“Rest easy. You’re cute, too.” I chuckle. “How about now, do you still like me?”

And again, there he goes with the signature sweet-slash-confused smile before he answers. “I don’t know. Probably?”

“I really appreciate that, Jacob, but actually, I don’t find myself that interesting. So can you tell me how did you come to… like me?”

“Oh my god, Kim. I never imagined that we would be talking like this before.” He says while laughing.

At least, I can feel that the air around us is very comfortable. The moment, the place, everything �" it’s perfect. But something feels out of place. I can feel something full of negativities �" jealousy, anger, hatred �" somewhere near, and that is definitely not from Jacob. I scan the surroundings with quick glances, and find nothing suspicious out of the ordinary. I refocus my eyes on Jacob. I can’t afford to ruin this moment, since this is the first time something like this is happening to both of us.

He takes my hand, and surprisingly, there is a very faint electrical surge that seemed to travel in a split second from his skin to mine. The spark.

“Well, as I’ve said, you’re pretty.” I really enjoy this vibe that it’s like we’re very close friends talking to each other. But I can see and feel that he’s a little bit shy. “I don’t mean handsome. I mean Pretty.”

“Are you implying that I’m androgynous?” Because I am, in fact, androgynous. And I know it to myself that I can be pretty whether I’m a boy or a girl.

“Well, yeah.” He says and goes silent.

As a silence breaker, I let out information about me that he probably didn’t know.

“You know, I don’t know how to handle this confession of yours, since this is the first time I’m getting one.” He looks shocked. “I mean, the first time I’m getting confessed to by another guy. Well, I’ve had my share with girls.”

“Really?” He gives me the perplexed look. “How did it turn out with them, did you try to date them?”

“Of course not. I’m never straight and I had no plans to betray myself.” We both laugh at that. “I’d rather date you than those girls.”

Oops. Well that escalated quickly.

“Seriously?” I don’t know how to describe the way he reacts, but he looks shocked, but in a way like he’s having fun talking to me.

“Sorry, I was caught in the moment.” I laugh.

“How about we get serious, Kimmy?” He says in a serious tone, but then breaks laughing.

“How dare you call me Kimmy.” I meant that as a joke.

“Well…” He then pauses, probably to gather himself. “Do you dislike me?”

“No.”

“Do you… like me?”

I pause. “I don’t know. I just met you �" I mean I just got this chance to know you.”

“But you’re still holding my hand.” Uh-oh. I slowly remove my hand from his grasp. We both face outside, to the stars. Silence follows.

To be honest, I’m starting to like this guy. I just think it’s too early. I feel like everything is rushed. I need to have some delicadeza.

To break the silence, I restart the conversation. “You know, Jacob… I’ll be honest and upfront with you.”

“Umm, hmm.” He nods his head.

“It’s my first time �" these things.” He turns and looks at me. “It’s romantic, because I can feel your innocence and your sincerity.”

He puts on a weak smile. And then it’s like a surge of emotions struck me from nowhere that I’m starting to imagine music playing, the breeze flowing, and I just think the moment is chaotic, but perfect.

“To be honest, I’m starting to like you.” His face glows up even more. “But I feel like everything happens too quickly, and maybe what I feel towards you is just infatuation, and there’s a supposedly underlying issue with you and Cecil as ‘ex-lovers’, and we’re both guys we both know that going beyond this is fundamentally wrong. I just think that we should rethink this as we might regret this �"”

With just a finger he gently presses between my lips, he cuts what I’m saying. He looks sad, but then it’s not yet too late to at least be righteous. As he turns back to face the darkness outside, he whispers, “I know. I understand.”

I also turn to face outside and breathe to the stars.

Just like that, the surge of emotions suddenly left me. I’m not sure if they did, or just became latent inside of me but then I feel that there’s something wrong about the situation. Is it the eerie energy that has been around all along? I want to look around again, but something’s tells me that I can’t move, that I should take charge of this moment, like this will be the last time something like this will ever happen to me. I feel unsettled that it’s just going to end this way, like this is only chance I’ll get to find love. I start to feel restless, and it might be too sudden but the surge of emotions inside me start to well up again, and with a heavy sigh I face Jacob. He turns to face me as well.

In an instant, his gentle hands get a hold of my face and leads it towards his own. As he closes his eyes, I also do close mine as my ultimate surrender to the moment.

Our lips touch and I can’t help it but his deep kiss feels really warm. No, not warm. It was really hot. Very, very hot that I kiss back, and he kisses back harder, I press harder, and the next thing I know is he consummates my lips that I’m almost out of breath with each movement of his lips.

Even the blinking lights from the inn did not stop us from kissing as if it was our last. But it had to end. The lights are totally off, but we pay no heed to that power shortage, nor to the passers-by that may have seen this hot moment.

Upon escaping the locks of his lips, I gasp and breathe as much as I can. I was literally out of breath.

“That’s my first kiss.” I say, looking down. For the first time, I feel embarrassed. I think I turned into a beast just a little while ago and I can’t believe myself.

“Mine, too.” That’s. A. Shock.

I raise my head and look at his eyes. He’s shy too. But he has the sweetest smile like he had just eaten the sweetest desert that ever existed in the culinary world.

“The lights are out.” He says before we go into another awkward silence. “Come with me.”

He takes me by the hand and then just like a damsel so madly in love, I follow him as we tread through the dark halls filled with confused people mumbling about how the inn can provide an alternate power source later on.

At this moment, even if people see us holding hands, running like a newly-wed bride and groom, I don’t care anymore. Let them judge. They don’t matter anyway. I’m currently lost and ecstatic. I have submitted myself to this guy I just met. And it feels so right and wrong at the same time.

We arrive to his suite, and although I feel nervous because I definitely know where this is going, I enter with the least caution.

He locks the door, seals the windows and close his curtains, then he returns to me and hugs me really, really tight. I embrace him back, and feel his warmth getting into me. “Are we really doing this?”

“Your heartbeat is really, really fast.” He says, laughing. “I wonder if it’s due to running across the dark halls, or…”

“I’m a virgin, Jacob. In the twenty-three years of my pretty existence, I have never done something that we’re about to do with anyone else before.”

“Same with me. The only difference is I’m twenty-two.” He chuckles. “And I’m gonna be on top tonight.”

What followed in the dark suite is a series of events that I will never, ever forget �" a very long, dark yet passionate night, full of exchanging pain and pleasure that seem to mix with each pound. Of course, the first time was very rough, it took a long time of simulation and getting used to before he was able to successfully entered my center of gravity. I remember myself clinging to him like I’m tightly holding on to dear life, my nails hardly trying to wound his back every time his length renews the wound he just drilled in me. A wound that would never close, and that would always engrave his shape within me.

With his every move, a moan escapes my mouth and I couldn’t stop myself from shedding real tears brought upon by the exchange of excruciating pain and ecstasy. He keeps on whispering in my ear, “It will get better, Kimmy. It will get better soon…” and he then softly kisses my cheek, my neck, then my forehead, my nose, and then he caresses my lips with his own. Soft but hot. And he kept on doing that until we’re totally done, as if we’re both in drought of our juices.

That was probably the riskiest thing I have done and due to the pain, I don’t see myself ever doing it again. I look at him as he lies naked next to me. I move a few inches closer to him. He then smiles even with his eyes closed, tucked me in and softly presses his lips on my forehead.

“I love you.” He whispers. But with this guy, I’m considering a second time of that sweet hot f**k. Tears just started flowing from my eyes. This is the first time someone has been this sweet to me. The first time I actually felt like I’m loved. I have no more words of what I’m feeling at this moment.

I wake up, bothered. My whole body is moist and I’m sweating quite hard. It’s sooooo hot. I look around and see only some materials in the suite in pure darkness. Is the power still off? I check my phone. It’s 2:12 am. This power interruption must have been going on for hours! There is definitely something wrong.

I help myself up, and just as I was about to stand �" Ouch!

My a*s hurts like hell, and it’s sooooo painful I could die. It was only then that the ugly smell of sex gets to me. There is a faint smell of something like chlorine.

I gently make myself stand, despite that searing pain in my behind. I flash my phone over the bed and see some blood stains. I reach for my a*s and slid a finger. It’s wet. I looked at it closely. It’s blood. This is so real. I lost my f*****g virginity to this guy and I loved it. F**k, I need to wash myself.

Slowly walking like a limp b***h and guiding myself with my hands along the beddings and the furniture I could not see but feel, I make my way to the bathroom.

I didn’t know that it was the last time I’m experiencing such a thing. What followed was just supposedly a heartbreak, but no one knew it would turn out to be tragic. That sinister energy I had been ignoring has been on the move after all.

While washing myself thoroughly, a vision seems to enter my mind. I see the champagne glasses we left from the balcony. One fell to the ground, shattered and what’s left of the red wine sprinkle like blood around it.

As I exit the shower, the lights go on again. They must have switched power source or fixed it. There is nothing wrong. There is just this deafening silence, and darkness that seems to stir something up in me. The sinister energy that I was talking about seemed to have passed by, awakening my instincts.

“Jacob?” I call for him. “Jacob, are you awake?”

There was no answer. When I turn on the lights, there goes the most grotesque thing that ever happened to me.

Jacob is on his back on the edge of the bed. He has a bloody tape on his mouth. He has a knife directly pierced to his heart. He has two knives stabbed through his palms to the bed spread like in the crucifix. The white sheets of the bed are filled with his blood. Some flowing freshly from the edges of his mouth, penetrating the tape.  And his eyes… his lifeless eyes…

I feel so weak that tears just start to flow from my eyes and gasps escape from my mouth.

“Help! Help us!” was all I can shout while crying. All those moments keep replaying in my head right before he died. Our first intimate kiss, our first night, and that I love you that I only got to hear.

This is no accident. Jacob is killed. And I must find whoever did this to him �" to us.

Reviews

[JayG]

Pretty much all hopeful writers fall into the same traps, so I thought you’d want to know:

Because the name of the skill we’re taught is writing, and the name of the profession is Writing, we naturally assume the two are related, and begin writing our stories with the skills we were given. And, because we know the story before we begin reading it, and can hear our own voice putting the necessary emotion into the words as we read, we never hear the problems a reader will notice.

Think back to your school days, and the kind of writing you were assigned. Almost all of it was in the form of essays and reports, both designed to inform, so they’re author-centric and fact-based. But do we read fiction to be informed? Were you reading a horror story, would you want to KNOW the protagonist feels terror? Or do you hope the author will terrorize YOU and make YOU afraid to turn out the lights?

In other words, since no one reminds us that professions are learned in addition to what our teachers gave us, we never realize that the only writing skills we own are nonfiction.

Take that trap one step further: Because you’re presenting the story with an outside-in viewpoint, and already know the backstory, the setting, and what’s going on, you forget that the reader doesn’t, and won’t see the story as a reader does. Look at the opening as a reader, who has just arrived, must.

• I am immortal. I will never die.

Who’s saying this? No way to know. As it’s being read it appears that it might be some form of deity, an alien being, a computer, or a host of beings. Without the context for setting, etc. that the words call up from your mind, the reader can only frown and wonder, which is not what we want a reader to do with the first line. Right?

• Of course I don’t mean that in the literal sense.

“Of course?” Given what you said in the first line, the reader EXPECTS it to be literal. And since they have no way of knowing it’s not, there can be no “of course,” for them.

Now…had you known that in fiction, when entering any scene, the reader needs to be placed in time and space, must know what’s going on, and be aware of who’s skin they wear, you wouldn’t have not opened in the same way.

• You see, I am just an ordinary human

Here you missed a great chance to impart necessary information on whose skin we wear. Because you know the story so well, it doesn’t occur to you that the reader doesn’t know the character’s gender. And the name you chose is gender neutral, so that changes nothing. But suppose you’d phrased the line as, “You see, I’m just an ordinary college girl.” One minor change and the reader has context.

But lets go back and look at a second trap, another problem caused by that outside-in approach your teachers provided:

What you’re doing is to try to breathe life into the story by transcribing yourself telling it to an audience. It seems like the natural thing to do. And as you read it, it works perfectly. But you cheat. You know how to PERFORM the story, and do so, mentally, as you read. But how much of that performance makes it to the page? Zero. The way you vary intensity, and pause meaningfully for breath? Gone. Changes in tempo and emotion? Gone, too.

How about the emotion you place in your expression as you read, the way you make eye contact, your gestures and body-language. It’s all there for you as YOU read. For the reader? Thay get only what the words suggest, based on THEIR background, not yours. Have your computer read it back for you to hear what the reader gets, and how different that is from what you intend them to get.

So are you doomed? Of course not, given that we ALL start out with those problems. You do, though, have to upgrade your writing technique to the needs of our medium.

So it’s not a matter of your talent, potential, or the story. And of more importance, it’s fixable. All you need do is add the skills of the fiction writer to those you already own. Will that be easy? No, because there’s a lot to learn. It is a profession, after all, one for which they offer degree programs at the university. And making those skills automatic takes practice. But every successful writer has done it, so… My point is that with the right techniques to give your words wings, who knows where you’ll fly to?

For an idea of the kind of things you need to learn, the articles in my writing blog may help give you an overview of the field. But for the actual skills needed? Your local library’s fiction writing section can be a huge resource. And one book I’ve been recommending lately is, James Scott Bell’s, Elements of Fiction Writing.

So give it a try. Add a few tricks the pros take for granted and see how it goes. But whatever you decide, hang in there, and keep on writing.

Jay Greenstein
https://jaygreenstein.wordpress.com/category/the-craft-of-writing/the-grumpy-old-writing-coach/