the suffering

the suffering

Chapter 1
8-Years later
Near the Sudan border to Ethiopia
10:30.a.m.



Melaku floored the gas pedal, pressed her shoulders into the driver seat, and clenched her teeth. The sedan reached forward, clawed the cool, deserted highway, then chased its own beaming headlights.
     She'd escaped.
     She wasn't surprised or even excited for the matter. The plan had been long in the making, beginning in early childhood and manifesting on her 18th birthday.
     It hadn't been an easy task, not with herself being repeatedly raped and sexually abused in the process.
     The numerous rapes played in mind now. Each filthy encounter and her counter-attack was simple --- stop fighting back --- stop physically fighting against such brutal and merciless men.
     She shook her head, thinking of how her preteen years had produced an ability to give in, accept reality, and realize she consisted of pain but was greater than it.
     She'd become tantamount over the faces of her rapist and abusers. Suddenly it had become not rape anymore but sexual assault.
     Give into the act, she would think. Take away its brutality and insensitivity.
     Melaku eased off the gas a bit. Her focus was lost ahead, far past the high-beams head-butting into the night.
     Time was against her.
     She'd just murdered a man, not just any man. Sudanese military officials would be after her now.
     It was apart of the plan.
     Melaku sat up suddenly.
     She leaned forward and narrowed her eyes. What was going on? Small fires were far away on the highway.
     She ascertained the darkness to the left and right outside, then snatched up the handgun on the passenger seat.
     The handgun was the murder weapon, yet; the body traced to it wasn't important to her. She held only one concern, and that was to not get caught and for the gun to work as it had just moments ago.
     She rolled up on the first of the small fires that weren't fires but road flares. Her worst fear came to hunt her.
     A mile or so ahead was a roadblock, six large trucks and each of them equipped with heavy, high-powered lamps pointed in her direction. Armed soldiers were milled around each of the vehicles.
     Turn around, she thought. She better, the decision would seal her fate. Instead, she oggled the gun and then chambered a round.
     They will kill me, she thought. Or i will kill them.
     There wasn't a possibility of driving through without any problems. General Muhammed Umar of Sudan had made sure of that.
     The berets worn by the soldiers was an insignia that they were a clan of cutthroats, rapist, and murderers.
     She was gripped by fear as she watched them scan the traffic ahead. They weren't just men under the General Muhammed Umar, they were off-duty crack troops of a captain.
     The men knew her. She knew that they were than cutthroats and rapist and murderers, they were men given to authority to inflict harm upon anyone.
     Only moments ago had she escaped the wrath of their constituents. Or had she? She'd killed their captain --- the only child to General Muhammed Umar.
     The captain's men had witnessed the killing or murder, depending on who told the story.
     They'd shot at her but missed. A chase then pursued through the captain's palace.
     She'd outwitted them all --- 20 of them. And within the cloak of darkness, she'd crept along the rear of the palace and then rushed a guard from the blindside who was asleep at the wheel of a Mercedes sedan.
     Melaku punched a handgun through the open passenger side window and squeezed the trigger.
     Again and again and again.
     Skull and brain matter gave new coating to the tinted window. She hurried to the driver side , opened the door, pulled the frail man out, then climbed inside.
     Men rushed from the palace, paused, then fired with automatics.
     She slammed the shifter into drive, stamped the gas pedal, then smashed through a 20 ft. gate.
    Her nerves and adrenaline were aflame, but she hauled a*s into the night.  .   .   .

Author's Note

this is for u...critique me.thanks

Reviews

[sgrsuave2]

I like this. I don't typically read this genre, but this is good. There was just one line in the whole thing that kind of threw me...the last line:

"Her nerves and adrenaline were aflame, but she hauled a*s into the night. . . ."

There's something about this that doesn't sit well with me. It seems like the narrator's voice change...like from one person to another one entirely. I was transferred from being right there with her to being somewhere urban like NYC, Chicago or ATL. I think it was just the last part, "but she hauled a*s into the night. . . ."

When is the next chapter coming?

[A B C...skills]

I can see the story...the suspense is real...but I would have to read more to see the impact of why it happened...your are a good writer..need more clarity..overall it is good

[Doug Ordunio]

Hi,

I looked at this, and you have the seeds of a good story, but you really need to focus on your subject. One thing made me grin. If you look carefully at your sentence "She held only one concern, and that was to not get caught and for the gun to work as it had just moments ago." There are TWO concerns, not one. Here are some ways you might want to adjust the opening, and thereby achieve clarity.
Melaku floored the gas pedal, pressed her shoulders into the seat, and clenched her teeth. The sedan reached forward, clawed the cool, deserted highway and chased its own beaming headlights.
She escaped.
She wasn't surprised or excited for that matter. The plan had been long in the making, beginning in early childhood until it boiled over on her 18th birthday. The numerous rapes returned to mind now, rapes where she had not fought back against the brutality, the mercilessness.
Melaku eased off the gas a bit, but time was against her.
She'd just murdered a man, not just any man. The Sudanese military officials would be after her now. It was a part of the plan.
Melaku leaned forward and sat up suddenly.
She narrowed her eyes. What was going on? Small fires were far away on the highway. She snatched up the handgun, the murder weapon on the passenger seat. Only one thing concerned her, not to get caught.
She rolled up to the first of the small fires that weren't fires but actually road flares. Her worst fear came to hunt her.

Look at the entire section now.

DougO

[JelliFyshKissUs]

Not going to be able to read the entire story, but I am very impressed. Descriptions peppered into the work without over-embellishing the main points. You can write your @#! off.

[Solitaire-P0ette]

Wow...I've read both the Prologue and this chapter. So intense..and violent. It gives imagery of a panicked person who's nerves are on edge.

"Melaku punched a handgun through the open passenger side window and squeezed the trigger.
Again and again and again."

Each shot redeemed her pain and suffereing. GREAT!! can't wait to read more. Inbox me =)

[ApplesOfDyscord]

That's deep and I normally don't read this style. However it was very good and descriptive.

[Ashley.M.E]

This is really good.

[Matthews Reggie]

good start, well paced... continue...