nickyfrench
01-22-2014, 05:46 PM
Hey! So this is part of my story which name I'm not totally decided yet... I want to make it a novel someday, and so this could be a short story adaption. This first part introduces us a first person narrator and her meeting with a new character. I'm not going to anticipate what's going on or what's coming next, but I will only say that the following part is the complete description of the flashback the narrator is telling at the end of this part. I will appreciate cricts, advice, corrections, etc...! So, thanks in advance.:smile5:
---
And again, I was sitting lonely with my lítost watching the rain through the window after a tough night of sleeping torments. I could barely smell the petrichor, though the psithurism was raucous. As I stared at the front door, it was the everyday scene. A new girl with sad eyes perceiving kind of a feeling they could not distinguish between resentment and flourisher fetched up in, hoping to go home soon and make some mates in the meantime, while her parents bewailed the situation wistfully as dead. Same stories, different names. But today, I saw a venerable particularity. Au courant’s prey reminded me to the girl I was when I first got in. Her bone white hair and deep myrtle eyes made me remember who I used to be. She seemed to be just like I was.
After a few days of assaying her, I decided to introduce myself. As I hadn’t talk to anyone my age for ages, I thought having a word with her sounded good. Or at least quite acceptable. So I did it; I stayed at the common room for an enduring time and when the nurses had left, I drew nearer.
-‘You seem to have been into it for a long heartsick time, don’t you?’
There was an overwhelming sense of emptiness in the vastness. After a span she muttered in a muffled, doleful voice: ‘I am new here but not in this, so I don’t need you help’.
I went to my room. I wasn’t nor despondent or dissapointed; I had actually known she was going to answer in that way. That was what I would have also say years ago, so I also knew what was coming next. I decided to wait a few days.
------
I awoke to the silence once more. I could not move. Neither talk. I could only breathe. I saw everything around me. But I couldn’t touch them. I tried to move my legs, but I couldn’t. I tried to get out my bed, but I couldn’t. I tried to yell. But I couldn’t.
After a seconds of mute scintillation of black and white glistens and jitters, I got up. “Fear is a beast that feeds on attention” I remembered. I looked up and saw everything was as usual. There was nobody but my roommate and I. I looked at her. I stretched through the sheets. I was suffocated. I stood up and glared at the window. It was still heavily raining. Suddenly I saw the new girl sitting in a bench under the cloudburst deluge, staring at nothing.
This was my kairos. I noiselessly went downstairs, opened the gateway to the yard without making a sound so as not to be immured, and absconded.
-‘I don’t want to help you. I just want to chat. You don’t have to answer, though.’ I heeded at her riskless. ‘I have been here for three years next Tuesday and I haven’t had even a jabber in all this time. You are in the same stage. I know it because you are what I used to be. You can deny it if you like to, but reality is an enemy for girls like us.'-
-‘My name is Hazel Ellington-Ockley’- her shallow, shy voice was hardly heard because of the raindrops thunderous sound. –I’m bad at chatting but I’ll do my best. It’s not alexithymia, though. I’d just like to hear about you. The whole story from the beginning till now.’
I tried to smile and after a deep breath, I began.
-‘It all started when I was still living in South America. I ought to believe the blastoff was when I turned twelve and changed to a smaller bilingual school which had less than a quarter of students of what my first institute had, but I must believe it had started before. I had lived with this for my whole life. It has been there in my mind forever, hovering around every nerve of my brain and soul, frightening me.
---
And again, I was sitting lonely with my lítost watching the rain through the window after a tough night of sleeping torments. I could barely smell the petrichor, though the psithurism was raucous. As I stared at the front door, it was the everyday scene. A new girl with sad eyes perceiving kind of a feeling they could not distinguish between resentment and flourisher fetched up in, hoping to go home soon and make some mates in the meantime, while her parents bewailed the situation wistfully as dead. Same stories, different names. But today, I saw a venerable particularity. Au courant’s prey reminded me to the girl I was when I first got in. Her bone white hair and deep myrtle eyes made me remember who I used to be. She seemed to be just like I was.
After a few days of assaying her, I decided to introduce myself. As I hadn’t talk to anyone my age for ages, I thought having a word with her sounded good. Or at least quite acceptable. So I did it; I stayed at the common room for an enduring time and when the nurses had left, I drew nearer.
-‘You seem to have been into it for a long heartsick time, don’t you?’
There was an overwhelming sense of emptiness in the vastness. After a span she muttered in a muffled, doleful voice: ‘I am new here but not in this, so I don’t need you help’.
I went to my room. I wasn’t nor despondent or dissapointed; I had actually known she was going to answer in that way. That was what I would have also say years ago, so I also knew what was coming next. I decided to wait a few days.
------
I awoke to the silence once more. I could not move. Neither talk. I could only breathe. I saw everything around me. But I couldn’t touch them. I tried to move my legs, but I couldn’t. I tried to get out my bed, but I couldn’t. I tried to yell. But I couldn’t.
After a seconds of mute scintillation of black and white glistens and jitters, I got up. “Fear is a beast that feeds on attention” I remembered. I looked up and saw everything was as usual. There was nobody but my roommate and I. I looked at her. I stretched through the sheets. I was suffocated. I stood up and glared at the window. It was still heavily raining. Suddenly I saw the new girl sitting in a bench under the cloudburst deluge, staring at nothing.
This was my kairos. I noiselessly went downstairs, opened the gateway to the yard without making a sound so as not to be immured, and absconded.
-‘I don’t want to help you. I just want to chat. You don’t have to answer, though.’ I heeded at her riskless. ‘I have been here for three years next Tuesday and I haven’t had even a jabber in all this time. You are in the same stage. I know it because you are what I used to be. You can deny it if you like to, but reality is an enemy for girls like us.'-
-‘My name is Hazel Ellington-Ockley’- her shallow, shy voice was hardly heard because of the raindrops thunderous sound. –I’m bad at chatting but I’ll do my best. It’s not alexithymia, though. I’d just like to hear about you. The whole story from the beginning till now.’
I tried to smile and after a deep breath, I began.
-‘It all started when I was still living in South America. I ought to believe the blastoff was when I turned twelve and changed to a smaller bilingual school which had less than a quarter of students of what my first institute had, but I must believe it had started before. I had lived with this for my whole life. It has been there in my mind forever, hovering around every nerve of my brain and soul, frightening me.