Amanda's Tale

Inspired by Frieda's poem "No Means No" and a quick story I left in the comments about a woman I dated a skinny two years ago. This is how I remember the night we met as best as I can recollect it.

I met Amanda in a dark, smokey bar just off the beach road called "The Hurricane." She was dressed in a short black skirt with a red sleeveless top, black spiky heels and black stockings. She had long, brown hair tumbling everywhere over her boney little shoulders with a long, pointy face and slight frame. She was sitting up at the bar being quite animated so I just sat down next to her and said:
 "Howdy. My name's Mark. Nice night isn't it."
 She smiled, stuck her pointy little hand out and said
"Hi Mark, I'm Amanda."
We chatted for a few minutes then I suggested we shoot some pool so we started a game. By this time I'd noticed Amanda was knocking back quite a bit of alcohol and was becoming increasingly flirtatious in her manner.
"Oh I just love your accent." she cooed. "Where you from?"
 "Well I'm from a lil ol town in South Carolina." I replied, making sure my drawl was set to Toby Kieth smooth and not Larry the cable guy.
"You were in the Marines?" she said "WOW! So you're a real war hero. That's sexy."
 "Well I don't know about all that war hero talk but I did my job under some trying circumstances." I modestly replied.
 Amanda stood there swaying on her pool que looking at me. Her eyes glazed over with Vodka and wonder. As much fun as I was having with her a few things concerned me. What was she doing in a bar alone as it is unusual to find women alone in social venues and she was plastered. I knew this was a slippery situation that could go very wrong but I'll admit it, I'm a man, I was hungry for love and Amanda looked delicious so I ran with it. One flirty conversation lead to another which lead to my hand on the small of her back to both hands on her thighs to kissing to making out in the parking lot to her place.

As I followed her in my truck my brain was warning me that this young lady was drunk and this wasn't the best of ideas but my dick was talking louder so naturally I sided with it. It took about ten minutes to get to her place. More than enough time for a woman to cool off and she had. She let me in and said
"Sit down and relax Mark. Would you like a drink? Vodka and cranberry?"
 "That sounds like a fine idea." I replied.
 She stumbled off to the kitchen to make the drinks leaving me on the couch scheming how to get her all heated up again. She came back with the drinks, set them on the coffee table and sat down on the couch next to me a good three feet away. She was going to make me work for this. I started a conversation about my time in California at camp Pendleton while easing closer to Amanda as I playfully touched her. I knew it was time to move on her but no sooner than I did she panicked. I don't mean "Slow this rodeo down cowboy" stalling, I mean stark fear panic. I backed off, stood up and looked down at her all balled up on the couch trembling like I was going to jab a hot poker in her eye. This wasn't the first time I'd picked up a girl for a one night stand but it sure as hell was turning into the weirdest. I was getting aggravated with her mixed signals so I said:
"Lil darlin I'm confused. Back at the bar you gave every indication you wanted to get busy with me now your acting like I'm some kind of monster. What is up with you?"
 She calmed down and after knocking back her drink (and most of mine) she told me her story. When she was a teenager Amanda had been abducted, raped, savagely beaten and left for dead. She spent a week in the hospital and It took her over a year to fully recover from her injuries. No one was ever charged with the crime. I must have looked like some kind of Venus fly trap with my mouth hanging open in shocked disbelief. I didn't know if it was the story or the fact that she told me was so shocking but either way, I was flabbergasted. A stranger I had met two hours earlier had just told me the most intimate and horrible story of her life. What in the hell was I supposed to say? I'm sorry seemed a pathetic response so I didn't say anything. Instead I took her hand and gently stroked the top of it. She started gently crying and in that moment I knew I was on the spot. What should I do? Make some kind of decent gesture for her though I had no clue what or leave and save myself a lot of aggravation from a woman I clearly wasn't going to f**k that night. After I sat with her for awhile I said
"Well, I guess I should get goin."
Amanda, still weepy squeezed my hand and said
"Please don't go. Stay with me."
Okay so more confusion. No way am I going to make another move on her so I guess we try and sleep? We went into her bedroom, laid down on her bed with all our cloths on, I gently held her close to me and she promptly passed out. I managed to doze off some but was soon wide awake and itchy to get out of there so I woke her up and said:
"I really do have to get going."
 She took my hands in hers and said
"Thank you Mark. Please say you'll call me."
"I promise darlin" I said. I kissed her on the forehead and left.

The next day found me staring at the save/delete icon on my phone pondering what to do so I called her.
"Mark!" She cried. "Oh you called. Lets get a drink. I'll buy."
I kind of didn't want to go but somewhere between her horror story and my own memories of Iraq we had bonded the way souls scorched by hell's fires do so we were involved for the next few months. I have to admit she could be a lot of fun. Once she trusted her safety with me she was a regular nymphomaniac. I definitely enjoyed that but unfortunately she was a full blown alcoholic too so after a few months and a dozen and one hang overs I called it quits. She was upset but not as much as one would think. She went through guys like gasoline. She was used to the drama of the breakup.

I think about Amanda sometimes and wonder how she's doing but at the same time I don't want to know. As much as I tried to be sympathetic and patient with her she wore me down. The drinking, the drama, the need for control, the volatile moods. All from a slightly anorexic, thin hipped, horribly damaged woman who one fateful day was in the wrong place at the wrong time. It seemed so horribly unfair to her and to everyone that came and went through the drunken haze that was her life and yes I felt sorry for her but there wasn't a goddamn thing I could do. I know from bitter experience Monsters from one's past that huge don't go away. They eat everyone they catch. Rape is a hideous crime that never stops hurting its victim.

Author's Note

Well, That's Amanda

Reviews

[Lady Ra]

Very raw and real. A story of two war heroes / survivors sharing a strange and complicated time together. The monster of war and the monster of rape can affect our lives in very destructive ways, but one can eventually heal from it if one wants to put the effort into it. It sounds like she, like some survivors of war or rape, medicated her pain instead of dealing with it head on and exorcising it. It takes time and the symptoms manifest themselves in some very strange ways. I like this story. As for writing you have a lot of talent for suspense.

[Baby Ricochet]

Thank you Lady Ra.

[Seamstress]

Amazing story. I must admit I read it because the title caught my attention, being my own name there. I have been lucky enough to not have had the horror of those events to happen to me. Aye I've been broken by a man but nothing like the horror that Amanda was in. I pray she has found a better way to live than the life of alcohol to forget.

[Baby Ricochet]

Me too actually. Thanks for reading Seamstress

[Annabelle Lee]

Thanks for sharing, Ricochet.

[Baby Ricochet]

Thank you for reading Annabelle

[saratogaparty]

I definitely like your story telling. I don't see it too much, but I like it. The way you describe everything has a certain perspective, which is good, you're putting yourself into universal words. It's not a hard thing to do. So congratulations. I especially liked:

"Amanda stood there swaying on her pool que looking at me. Her eyes glazed over with Vodka and wonder."

That line. It's just, I know what you're talking about AND I don't think I've ever heard it put quite that way before, so the perspective is there and it's good.

"One flirty conversation lead to another which lead to my hand on the small of her back to both hands on her thighs to kissing to making out in the parking lot to her place. "

This was perfect. I immediately followed your words as my brain flashed the images just as quickly. It reminded me of a quickly cut movie scene.


As far as dialogue goes, It may be nice to see the dialogue separate from the narrative. Like you'd see in a novel (most novels). It adds a little more character to it that way, making the brain pause and say, okay, it's his turn to speak or okay, now it's hers.

"...e every indication you wanted to get busy with me now your acting like I'm some kind of monster."

And

"You were in the Marines? WOW! So your a real war hero. That's sexy."

"Your" to "you're"

"for it's next meal sitting"

and

"Rape is a hideous crime that never stops hurting it's victim. "


"it's" to its

I hope that helps!

[Baby Ricochet]

It needs all kinds of editing. Thank you. I'm glad you liked it

[KAOlmsted]

Oh yay, does this mean I can start calling you Mark in my reviews now instead of Baby? That's been driving me nuts for months, but I did make a promise...*laugh*

Okay. I like it when you branch off into story telling mode, and, make no mistake, that is what this is...story telling. I can picture you sitting somewhere, all of us criss-cross applesauce on the floor, looking up at you and listening xD but as a written piece of prose it needs massive edits...that's not to say it's not good, that's just to say when you get serious about writing your experiences, I implore you to find a damn good editor who really cares about your work and your story to help you with the technical aspect of writing exposition. (You know I am always available to help.)

Meanwhile, the actual story, the message, is kind of all over the place...I don't know if this is a story about a survivor or about a guy who got "stuck" with a survivor xD I do know there are a lot of Amandas out there who cope with their problems in this way, especially drinking and promiscuity.

Thanks so much for sharing your story with us, Baby...oops...habit xD xoxo

[Baby Ricochet]

Why thank you kimmer. I'm sure the writing is atrocious in spots. I don't write many stories. I'd edit the piece but I'm not sure where to start and in a few days it'll be forgotten like most of the work on the wc. I'm happy to see you back on line kimmer. Mark misses you when you're off line for that long

[KAOlmsted]

Always my pleasure, and I was serious about the help. It's not all about the WC, you know...I'm sure there are several people who would want to read your story and who would be willing to shell out coinage for the privilege.

I'm happy, too...saw your status line, made me grin ;-) And kimmer misses Mark...I go into fits of withdrawal. It's like a seizure. Or maybe that's the flu meds talking again xD

[Marie]

I am limited in the sympathy I can feel for Amanda. I am too private a person to understand why anyone would tell the sordid details of her life to a stranger she met in a bar.
a "manor" is a large house. You mean "manner".

[Baby Ricochet]

Amanda wore it on her sleeve and to her it justified everything that was wrong with her life. You can see the flaws in such logic but it's really hard to argue with. Thanks for the spell check. I'll change it.

[Michael G.]

Most times the story itself is like a security wall. Often used as a test and for protection. If you get past it, you stand a chance of seeing the real person hurting behind it. Good write, BR.

[Baby Ricochet]

Thank you Mr G.

[Frieda P]

As you well know, this touched me to the core Baby. The fact that she reached out to a complete stranger is par for the course, survivors will feel safe telling a person they have no true connection with their story, this way if it doesn't resonate with them, no great loss, it's the people closest that add insult to injury in most cases. This is a true renditon of the aftermath of surviving terror, what it does to people and their psyches and how it affects all they touch, a lot like the aftermath of war, yes. The damage keeps on giving... Thank you so much for sharing this.

[Baby Ricochet]

Thank you Frieda

[gcp]

OK, since you sent a read request for this I’m gonna assume that you want my opinion – if not, well – I guess you’re gonna get it anyway ;)

I think the story as a whole works – I think it’s written in a believable way that feels natural – perhaps a little tightening of the start would draw the reader into the narrative more quickly.

On a technical level I think it could do with a few tweaks – as easy quick win to making it look more presentable would be to simply start a new paragraph when you change speaker in the dialog – it’s a writing convention that makes the thread of dialog much easier to follow. Also there are quite a few times that sentences run on with multiple clauses when perhaps separate sentences or some trimming would make more sense.

Rather than give vague feedback across the whole piece I’m going to really pick on a couple of sentences here. Hopefully you’ll find it useful and something you can apply to a few other loose sentences where you find them. First up:

When she was a teenager Amanda had been abducted, raped, savagely beaten and left for dead before someone found her.

To me, this doesn't feel right as a sentence. The last part “before someone found her” doesn't relate directly to the abduction as we know she couldn't have reasonably be found before she was abducted – but it’s unclear which clauses are related. Also, it seems unlikely that any of those things happened to her after she was found – so does it need to be stated explicitly that they happened before she was found? I guess the intent of the clause is to imply that these things were happening to her while people were actively looking for her – but if that’s the case it needs more clarity to get the message across. I know it’s just a tiny little picky detail – but that’s the difference between good prose and great prose: Detail.

I’ll pick on one that irritated me:

Make some kind of decent gesture for her though I had no clue what or leave and save myself a lot of aggravation from a woman I clearly wasn't going to f**k that night.

On a technical level – it’s actually a run on from the previous sentence (and so not a very well formed sentence in isolation) and it needs some commas. But also – the last bit. Really? She’s drunk and crying over telling a horrible rape story – the fact that you still use the word ‘f**k’ at this point feels really harsh The fact that you feel the need to tell us you’re not going to f**k her hints at a suspicion that you think some readers might not know how horrific that idea is – or it suggests that the thought still crossed your mind – and either of those reasons scares me. (Ok, you soften it very slightly with the use of ‘clearly’ – but that’s nowhere near enough – if it was clear, you’d not need to say it at all - and even if you do feel you need to say it - you could at least avoid the word 'f**k').

I totally agree with your last sentence, but I find myself not wanting to agree with the section just before. I guess I can draw a lot of parallels between Amanda and myself a couple years back (and maybe even now) and I don’t want to believe that these monsters can’t be controlled and defeated. I’m not sure if you’re right, but I really hope you’re not.

All in all – this is a good piece – I know I've picked at a few bits in detail – but it’s just that, detail. The sweep of the writing in general is good and the story is interesting. I think with a little close editing is it could be fantastic and even more powerful.

Anyway – I hope all this rambling s**t here is useful (and I hope it doesn't piss you off for being too picky)

Pete

[Baby Ricochet]

I don't write to many stories. 4 since I've been on here and easily 200 poems so I'm well practiced at my style of poetry. Stories, eh, not so much. I'm not sure how to edit this as it's written the way I remember that night happening.
I do appreciate your input on this though. It really was useful. THank you

[gcp]

Aw - I think you should write more stories ;)

One of the real challenges of writing prose is taking the memory of the events and find a way to tell the important parts of the story in a compelling way. The same must be true of poetry? You choose which feelings and words are appropriate to get across the message you intend? Stories, both fiction and non-fiction, are just the same.
I think you should edit this. Step back from the real events and just look at the lines, perhaps in the same way you'd edit a poem - look at each sentence and think "Does this add anything? Is this the right way to say this? Does this fit the mood I want to create?" You may even find the things you learn editing prose stories feeds back into your command of language and improves your main focus of poetry too.

[Pete Langley]

It`s not surprising to me that men go to war, Ric. As a soldier, you will know more than most, I`m sure, how despicable man can be to man - and woman. I am very affected by this writing. This is purely written, accurate in the portrayal of emotions without overdramatising. I admire it as the best of yours I`ve read. Thanks for sharing it. Pete.

[Baby Ricochet]

Thank you Pete