Will someone read the first chapter of my story?
{;T :] asked:
I started writing a story and I’d like some advice to make it better or just your opinion on it.
This is only the first chapter. I have another one written.
Any sort of criticism is appreciated.
There is much more to the plot than what the first chapter tells you.
I’ve always been the kind of person to forgive easily.
No matter how grave the situation, I always find myself forgiving and forgetting.
Some people say it’s a good thing, most say it’s a not-so-good thing. And, I suddenly agree with the latter, since, just a couple minutes earlier I realized that my easy forgiveness is what brought me into this –do I dare say?- abusive relationship.
Ending up on the floor with a pounding, aching pain on the side of my head was what, unfortunately, triggered my insight.
Honestly, I’m surprised I hadn’t guessed it was going to happen sooner or later.
For a moment, I felt like I was being hypnotized, just sitting there on the cold, kitchen floor, starring at the wooden legs of the chair in front of me as if it was the light to heaven.
I managed to fidget my eyes to a white floor tile and I immediately became aware of the sounds around me.
The dishwasher that was just a few feet away rumbled endlessly. The noise filled my ears and traveled into my mind as if it was washing my brain.
Brainwashing.
Other then that, the only sound audible was Damien’s heavy breathing from behind me.
My hands, palms down on the floor supported me as I registered everything that happened in the last two minutes.
It started with Damien complaining about something. I don’t remember exactly what.
Work? Food? The dishwasher?
And then it continued with him starting to yell endlessly about whatever it was he was yelling about.
And then, it was me who started yelling because he was yelling.
There was a lot of yelling.
But then, the yelling stopped and I could see his anger rising in his face.
His anger wasn’t the only thing that rose before I received the blow.
Now, here I am, sitting on the floor, raising my right, cold hand to the side of my tense face.
Blinking repeatedly, feeling surged back into my body and I quickly stood up.
This was the first time he hit me, but it felt like the hundredth.
Turning around swiftly I started to walk out of the kitchen.
“Jade, I’m sorry.” Damien’s solemn voice entered my ears as I passed him, though, this time I didn’t feel any need to forgive.
So, instead, I ignored him and walked silently and casually down the short hall of our apartment.
Aiming for my –our- bedroom, I decided otherwise and entered the bathroom, locking the door absently behind me.
My first instinct was to look in the mirror, but I decided not to and turned my back on my reflection.
Sighing, I leaned against the counter, bringing my hands up to the sides and propping myself on top so I was sitting down on it.
I entered another hypnotizing moment as I starred at the white, blinding wall in front of me.
I could feel my frown dig into my face as the last three minutes played over and over in my head.
Shortly, a knock on the door rang, snapping me out of my daze.
“Jade?” Damien voice called from behind the door.
I looked at it expectantly, imagining Damien bursting through it like a beast.
“Jade, I’m sorry.” He repeated his earlier words.
I didn’t say anything and I didn’t want to.
My lips felt sealed together as if the skin was conjoined and my breaths were as soundless as if I wasn’t even breathing.
“I didn’t mean to… h-hit you. I’m just really stressed out these days.” He explained.
I scoffed internally.
Another excuse.
“I promised I’ll never hurt you again. I’ll never yell at you again.”
Another lie.
Peeling my eyes away from the door, I looked to the other side of the bathroom, laying my eyes on the shower.
Jumping down from the counter, I turned quickly and crouched to open the cabinet.
Pulling out a light blue towel, I laid it on the towel holder and started to undress.
I hadn’t missed Damien’s heavy sigh from behind the door and the sound of him sliding down the floor on the other side of the wall.
Stepping into the shower and turning on the water, I put it on as cold as I could handle.
When I was done washing up, I dried off my body and risked a glance at myself in the mirror.
I wasn’t surprised to see the right side of my face –mostly my cheek and eye- turning slightly red and purple.
Looking away, I blindly patted my face dry with the towel.
After wrapping it tightly around me, I picked up my clothes from the ground and rested my hand on the door knob.
I hesitated on getting out, but I had to get out sooner or later.
So, bracing myself I unlocked it and pulled it open.
As suspected, Damien was sitting against the wall on the left side of the door.
Sleeping.
Standing in front of him, I watched as his head lolled to the side, resting on his shoulder with his mouth slightly opened, soft snores escaping his lips every two seconds.
He looked too innocent while he slept that is was too hard believing this was the twenty four year old man who hit me.
It was when his eye lids started to flutter open that I turned around and quickly entered our bedroom from across the hall.
“Jade!” I heard him call before I closed the door.
Unfortunately, there wasn’t a lock.
So, I quickly grabbed a t-shirt and boxers, changing into them as fast as I can.
I could see Damien’s shadow in the small space under the door and I knew he was standing right in front of it.
I ignored it and lay down in the bed, making sure not to turn on my right side.
I fell asleep quickly.
Oh. Wow. Thank you for all the responses.
I agree with Mike. I think I’m definitely going to develop Damien’s character more.
Here is the rest of it that i wrote. I’m sorry it’s not much, but, I just started this story yesterday night.
If you’d like me to e-mail you the updates then It’d be better if you e-mail me first so that i can save your e-mails.
Thanks for all the feedback.
Here’s the rest that i wrote.
A soft stroking on my cheek is what woke me up in the middle of the night.
I let my eyes slowly open to be met with Damien’s blue ones. We starred at each other for what felt like hours before I picked up the courage to turn my back on him, flinching as I added pressure to the bruised part of my face.
“Jade,” I heard him whisper from close behind me. “I’m sorry.”
I closed my eyes.
“I know.” I told him.
“I’ll never hurt you again.” He whispered.
“I know.”
Do I?
A long silence filled the room for a couple of minutes.
“Do you forgive me?”
My eyes shot open.
I starred at the red numbers on the clock that stood on my night table, my lips feeling as if they had sealed shut again.
But, I pried them open.
“I don’t know.” I told him softly, my eyes not leaving the red numbers.
I felt his arm wrap itself around my waist so gently it was as if he thought my whole body was bruised.
Nuzzling his nose into my hair, I heard him inhale my coconut shampoo.
“I love you.” He breathed.
Tears finally started to brim my eyes.
His lips, warm and soft, connected with the soft spot under my ear, trailing down my neck a couple of times, then trailing up and resting in my dark hair.
“So much.” Damien added.
Moisture fell out of my eyes as I struggled not to sob.
And scream.
I wanted to scream at him so much right now.
How can he love me? After what he did, how can he love me?
I guess he knew I was crying when his hand came up to brush away my tears.
His right hand.
The cage I struggled to close over my aching chest opened and soft sobs were finally set free.
Cautiously yet quickly, Damien turned me around so that he cradled me against his chest.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” He repeated over and over again that the words practically started to lose its meaning.
After a few seconds, I realized the situation and pushed his chest roughly away.
“I can’t.” I said before standing up.
“Just, leave me alone for tonight.” I told him before walking out of the room.
Opening the hall closet, I grabbed an extra pillow and blanket and made my way to the living room.
Settling myself on the couch, I closed my eyes but sleep didn’t quickly appeal to me.
Though, I still kept my eyes closed, letting the cage lock back onto my chest. I ignored the crusty feeling of my dried tears on my cheeks and the battered feeling on the side of my face and listened to the sounds around me.
The dishwasher was no longer running, making Damien’s curses and manly sobs comprehendible from the end of the hall.
I squeezed my eyes tightly together and started to hum tunelessly.
The cage on my chest struggled, yet again.
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