I haven’t really been commenting as this is a personal worst week of the year for me. Will make up for that.
There is a page on the sidebar that contains two excerpts from my book. It’s also the post below this one.
This post is the first post in a series. I have already written the second. Just need to fit the words in
She was 40 for the fourth or fifth time. Hell if she could remember. There was so much she couldn’t remember. People said it was a blessing that she couldn’t remember the night Denny had been killed and she had been beaten and raped over again. But she would like to remember their life together. She would like to remember Denny the person, not the pictures people showed her and the letters he had written to her.
She wanted to remember their initial meeting. She wanted to remember just about anything. Music that they had loved, nothing triggered any memories. All music sounded like noise to her now. She was told that once she could sing and had been in a college band. She would see the videos and it was as if she was watching strangers.
She couldn’t even remember her original name. The name she had before all this happened. People said that it was a blessing her parents had died two years before the incident. The incident, that was what everybody called it.
She couldn’t use that name, the one she could never remember. Too many newspapers and blogs had written it in the name of the people needing to know. Knowing what? That she had forever been damaged and would never be the person she once was?
Her lawyer had wanted her to sue but she didn’t want to. That was used as an example of how her thinking wasn’t right. Every thinking American wants to sue. But she had so much money from insurance, inheritance, and money she had made when she worked as a book designer.
Now she looked at books and wondered how they were designed. She knew that she had once loved to read, she had so many books, but the words ran into each other. She paced the apartment and went to sit on the terrace. The sky was blue, the weather fair but she had no desire to go outside. It was too overwhelming.
As if in her sleep she heard somebody knock at the door. Nobody knocked at her door. The knocking increased and increased. She was scared, but found herself opening the dead bolts as the voice asking to be let in was familiar.
The bell must have shorted. I didn’t have my keys.
Oh, Denny, I had another one of those dreams. They seem so real.
I didn’t see that coming! Very nice portrait painted of blocking out all that is familiar.
~S
Yes, I’m doing my own blocking out at the moment and it is strangely easy to do…. Well put.
Nicely done! A good read with a twist that makes me want to read more.
I don’t like dreams that seem too real… but they make a great story line, Pia.
what a twist!!!!! this was excellent… cant wait to read next weeks!!!!!!
Wow — heartbreaking and intense, but really well written. Like the others, I also loved the twist at the end — really powerful.
:)
That WAS dark! Compelling. I want to know more!
That was profound, look forward to more.
Some dreams seems so real but….
Dark but I like it.
This was very different from you somehow. It was compelling throughout. What’s reality and what isn’t. Definitely leaves itself open to a continuation.
I’ve known a couple of people who were in serious car accidents and were never the same. Often I think to myself how even though they go on breathing, they were robbed of so much life.
Excellent story this week, Pia. I didn’t see the ending coming. I would like to see this one developed further. Keep up the good work.
Have a nice night
Michelle
Popped in to say hello and to invite you and your readers to enter a contest which started today over at my blog. Come on by and enter!
I agree with Bone, different than you and with a twist. I liked it. You can write anything.
Odd to say, but hugs to you on your personal worst week of the year.
Very well written. Now I’m left wondering if Denny at the door was a dream, or her state of amnesia is. This piece would be good continued or standing alone. The reader is left wanting to know more, but sometimes that is a good technique because it encourages them to get their own imaginations to work.
oh thank god for the last paragraph!!! Great job on projecting the emotions.
I honestly was not anticipating that: you kept me in suspense.
Sorry it took me so long to get to this: I finally just posted tonight! O:)
Hope you made it through the weekend OK.
Riveting story. I didn’t see that ending coming. I got a little behind on my blog reading, so I’m starting back at the beginning of this trilogy and working my way forward. On to Part 2!
[…] I screwed up copying this. Just redid it Have written chapters in advance. The next two will explain much more. And sorry if you tried to make sense out of five of the same chapters together. Screwe One Two Three Nell and Justin went to the living room. He motioned for her to sit on the couch. It wasn’t one that she remembered from yesterday or from her interlude with Denny. She supposed it was an interlude. Maybe it had been a hallucination. How could she trust Justin? How could she not? He gave her some more water. She had been drinking the water constantly in the closet. She couldn’t imagine ever feeling satiated. […]