So this is another attempt at a story. If you guys can give me some feedback on how I could improve it, what you liked, didn't like, anything you have to say would be great. I didn't want to start out with a long first chapter I wanted to make sure people liked the story and were interested in reading more first.
This is a story about five women going through a darker unhappier time in their lives. Psyche Bratt, Nadeen Holloway, Haily Farber, Erika Tishwell, and Anthera Hudlin.
So this is another attempt at a story. If you guys can give me some feedback on how I could improve it, what you liked, didn't like, anything you have to say would be great. I didn't want to start out with a long first chapter I wanted to make sure people liked the story and were interested in reading more first.
This is a story about five women going through a darker unhappier time in their lives. Psyche Bratt, Nadeen Holloway, Haily Farber, Erika Tishwell, and Anthera Hudlin.
I wake up every morning with a heavy feeling in my heart. I feel like the effort it takes to maintain this happy facade is more than I can bear. The mask I wear has started to fade, the darkness within is starting to show through. I don’t know what’s wrong with me… I wish I knew. I feel so tired.
My body is tired, every little bit. I never knew you could feel pinky toe fatigue. Everyday I find myself spending more hours in bed, and still waking up feeling like I haven’t slept in days.
I’ve been trying so hard to control my emotions. Never do I want them to control me. I’ve been trying to contain this darkness within, fearing if I let it out; even for a moment it would wholly consume all the people that I care about.
With great labor I get out of the bed. Every step I take is heavy; it’s as if I’m wearing shoes made out of lead. I step to the mirror, the only thing in this world that sees me just as I am, reflects it back raw and unsullied, sometimes it scares me.
I’m like a clown, wearing a mask every day, putting on a happy face for everyone to see.
I think of going downstairs, getting a potato sack out of the cupboard and fashioning it into my attire for the day. It would accurately reflect how I am feeling, drab, ugly and pathetic. Instead I choose something more innocuous.
I decide to go downstairs and face the day. As I'm relaxing by the bay window I notice that Nadeen and Haily are in the yard.
Haily is crying, out of frustration, exhaustion, confusion, just plain old despair... I don't know. I wasn't really in the mood to find out. It may sound selfish of me, but I was dealing with enough of my own issues, the thought of taking on someone else’s was unbearable. I was jealous of Haily at times though, especially now. She could stand there in the garden and let her emotions come pouring out of her without abandon. Minutes later she will be her bubbly self again. I often wonder what it would be like to be so free and unrestrained.
Nadeen waves to me, she wants me to come outside. The idea repulses me. I know what she wants from me. She said it last night, "We need to talk." Definitely on the list of the most dreaded phrases; things you don't want to hear when you are in a relationship. I know I can't avoid this any longer.
So I muster up something that resembles nonchalance, and make my way outside. The sun feels odd on my skin, its almost as if I had never felt it before. The idea of this sends a shiver up my spine.
Nadeen has a distressed look on her face. I'm not looking forward to this. Not having any idea what could be making her so anxious isn't helping matters much. As I draw closer to her I can see beads of sweat on her chest. No one on earth could make sweating, that uncouth bodily function, seem so arousing, sexy.
"Hot out today." I said, stalling, trying to delay the inevitable. She gives me that look, the one she gives people when she thinks that they have said something completely idiotic. I wait for her to say something but she just keeps looking at me. "Did you sleep well?"... I wait...still nothing. "Do you want to go back inside, its hot out here, we can talk inside." I say. "Ok..." she says, finally giving me a verbal reaction; quelling my woes that maybe she had gone deaf or mute during the night.
"This is much better isn't it, nice and cool in here. Cooler bodies, cooler minds, cooler conversation, ha-ha." I am starting to feel manic, I need to stop talking (rambling is probably more accurate).
She is just sitting there so motionless, like a statue. The vibe she is throwing of is palpable, its cold, unfriendly. I get this almost uncontrollable urge to shake her, make her say what's on her mind already. I hate it when she does this, it drive me crazy.
Then she turns to me, sharply, and finally opens her mouth to speak.
"Erika..."
Ok, so that's the end of this chapter. Like I said if you have any constructive criticisms to give it would be greatly appreciated.
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