A piece that I wrote for reasons that escape me for the moment. However, I think that it is a good sample of my style and has helped me to keep Detroit fresh in my memory - my home city and one that I miss very much. So without further delay:
Dylan guided his hatchback out of the staff parking lot and onto East Jefferson with the sort of oblivion that routine affords. He had been incredibly distracted the entire day, and it seemed to affect everything. His own research. His lectures. Everything.
Of course, he knew exactly why he was unable to focus. His behavior during his sister Violet’s recent convalescence in the hospital. His inconspicuous absence after her release. The mounting sense of anger at her boyfriend, Cole. They all weighed upon him like a millstone about his neck. On top of all of that, somewhere deep in the recesses of his mind, he was aware that Ivy would give birth to his child any day now.
As he approached the intersection at Brush, Dylan tuned into the popular evening jazz program on Detroit's public radio station. The program’s host was continuing his tribute to jazz legend Jimmy McPartland, who had died two days ago. He found that the Dixieland style of music being played had an oddly uplifting effect on his mood.
In fact, as he continued to listen, Dylan could not help but be overcome by such a feeling of hope that not even the rain could dampen his spirits. By the time that he had completed his turn, he knew exactly what he needed to do. He needed to speak to Ivy.
She was the key to his happiness. He was positively certain of this. To hell with Violet, she can keep her life with Cole.
“She never really cared for me, anyway,” he said bitterly.
But Ivy!
She understood him, and, even more importantly, appreciated him for who he was. They had even once shared a tender moment and created a child together.
Afterwards, he knew that he had behaved like a complete ass to her, but, at the time, he was afraid and acted irrationally. Now, everything was crystal clear.
“We can make a life together – a family,” he continued as he cruised up Brush. Sure, there might be some issues at the university, but undoubtedly he was too valuable to be replaced. Besides, she was an adult and no longer one of his students. He must find her, but where to look….
Since he was already on Brush, he thought it prudent to begin his search at the beer garden where she worked. Eddie, the owner, told him that she had left a few hours ago, but he had no idea where she went. Ivy had no car and wouldn’t use the buses if she could avoid it.
That really only left one place – her friend Olivia’s. She’d lived just up Brush on the other side of the freeway; easily within walking distance. Dylan hopped back into his car and drove the one mile to Oilvia’s house with reckless abandon.
As he made the left onto Adelaide, he saw a light on in the crumbling Victorian manse that Olivia had called 'home'.
Dylan ducked under the crime scene tape and went in through the side door into the kitchen. There, he saw Ivy standing with a cookbook clutched to her chest, and a look of alarm in her eyes.
“Please don’t be scared,” he said calmly, “actually, I was hoping you would be here.”
“What do you want?” she replied. “You shouldn’t be here.”
“Neither should you, but seeing that we both are, I thought perhaps we could talk.”
“Talk? What could you possibly have to say to me? You made it quite clear that you wanted nothing to do with me,” Ivy answered, anger growing.
Dylan's gaze drifted down to her impossibly large stomach. She must be due any day.
“I was wrong, Ivy. And, I want to make it up to you,” he answered and moved closer to her. “I want us to be a family. I want to take care of you and our child. We will have such a warm home, and grow to love each other with every passing day.”
Ivy backed away, “No, Dylan! We won’t ever be a family and I could never love you. When I needed you most, you abandoned me!”
“I admit that that was an awful thing to do but I'm here to make amends. Doesn’t that count for something?”
“I’m sorry, Dylan, but it doesn’t,” Ivy said with tears welling in her eyes. “Now, please let me go.”
He stepped aside, and she slipped past him toward the door.
“We're done here. Goodbye.”
Dylan walked to the kitchen sink and stared out the window as the door banged shut.
“How could she do this to me?!” he said as he fought back his own tears. “Not Ivy! She was supposed to be the one!”
Anger began to well up inside him.
The glint of a kitchen knife in the dull light drew his attention. Automatically, he began to roll-up up his left sleeve. The arm underneath revealed neat, parallel lines of scars from where he had cut himself in previous moments of anguish like this.
They were a timeline of grief and misery. Each notch recounted an episode in his life where the smallest of incisions would allow all the pain trapped inside him to seep out. And like before, he knew that after a few moments and a small trickle of blood, all would be infinitely better.
Dylan took up the knife and made a slit along his left forearm, perpendicular to the bone. Unfortunately, the room was darker than he was used to, and the knife was incredibly sharp. The cut went deeper than expected and blood began to violently gush from his arm with each heartbeat.
Quickly, he grabbed a kitchen towel and bound the wound with his right hand and his teeth. But, it was not enough to staunch the flow. In a few seconds, he began to feel faint from the blood loss and stumbled toward a rocking chair next to the kitchen hearth. However, his feet gave away from him and he fell headfirst into the mantle before slowly collapsing onto his side.
As consciousness slipped away from Dylan, he could not help but notice that this was almost the same spot where the police found Olivia’s body the previous week.
“Well, one bad turn deserves another, I guess,” Dylan whispered to the empty room before Death reached out and claimed him.
Hello, Kevin, thanks for sharing. I didn't see the ending coming at all!
A few points: did you realise that all the female names have 'vi' in them? Was that intentional, to make a triangular link between them?
'the sort of oblivion that routine affords' - I like that.
'His inconspicuous absence' or conspicuous? If the former, she wouldn't have noticed so he has no reason to feel guilty.
'the popular evening jazz program' ... 'tribute to jazz legend' - you don't need to repeat 'jazz'; what else would he be playing?
In fact, I'd rework these two lines. Do you need 'popular', or 'program's host'? Try something like:
'Dylan tuned into Detroit's public radio station, where a musical tribute to the late Dixieland jazz legend, Jimmy McPartland, had an oddly uplifting effect on his mood.'
'They had even once shared a tender moment and created a child together.' This doesn't work; it's too simplistic. The child part would be more emphatic. Something like, '...and, hell, they'd created a child together.' After all, how much more intimate can you get? Make something of that line.
Eddie's a very minor character - you don't have to name him.
'“What do you want?” she replied. “You shouldn’t be here.” You don't need 'she replied' - we know who's speaking, and it would have more punch without it. Same applies to 'Ivy answered, anger growing.'
'“I was wrong, Ivy. And, I want to make it up to you,” he answered and moved closer to her.'
Lose 'And,' - which shouldn't have a comma, by the way - and 'he answered'. Try:
'"I was wrong, Ivy. I want to make it up to you.' He moved closer. ' - more staccato, more immediate.
Ivy doesn't need to call him Dylan so often.
'“I admit that that was an awful thing to do but I'm here to make amends' - This sounds half-hearted. If he's on an emotional high, as seems to be the case, he'd be more urgent and pushy; he'd say something like, "I know, I know - I was stupid! I've come to put things right!"
Anger or anguish? They aren't the same. Perhaps grief wells up in him instead.
Perpendicular - at right angles to? Or parallel?
'Unfortunately, the room was darker than he was used to, and the knife was incredibly sharp.' This is the pivotal line of the story, and you've undermined it with 'Unfortunately'. The room being darker than he was used to is nonsense - he's been in there for some minutes and his eyes have adjusted by now. Whatever light he is used to in some other place has no bearing on the present. Try:
'The knife was incredibly sharp. The cut went deeper than he expected.' Or even, 'The knife was too well-honed.'
'and blood began to violently gush from his arm with each heartbeat.' Not immediate enough; try, 'With each frantic beat his heart pumped blood from his arm.'
I think we can take 'quickly' as given - it's implied in the grabbing.
' But,' - lose this (and no comma needed!)
'In a few seconds, he began to feel faint from the blood loss and' Lose this entirely. We know why he's feeling faint. ' He stumbled toward a rocking chair next to the kitchen hearth.'
'However, his feet gave away from him and he fell headfirst into the mantle before slowly collapsing onto his side.' 'However', like 'unfortunately' weakens the sentence and detracts from the scene. It's the authorial voice, not the action of the character. You don't need 'kitchen' - we already know where he is.
Try, 'He reached toward the rocking chair near the hearth. His legs failed him, and he pitched head-first against the mantle.'
'Dylan could not help but be overcome' ... 'he could not help but notice' Why use this phraseology?
'As he slid to the floor, he saw that...'
You could make more of Ivy's part in the dialogue. She's saying the right things, but not in the right way. She's a very pregnant woman, in a desperate situation, and that should show, not in authorial description - she said angrily - but in her own words and the way she phrases them.
This scene has violence, blood, self-harm, murder: it needs to sound as though all those things are there in the forefront of the characters' minds, rather than merely a stage set in which those characters move about. Involve them more in what's happened.
Hope this helps!
Susan, thank you for the suggestions and I apologize for my very tardy response.
I have taken some of your suggestions to heart. I did use his name way too many times and I think that I have fixed that. With the dialogue, I was aiming for a sense of emotional immaturity in both characters (though more so with Dylan) and awkward constructions to impart that. It's quite possible that I failed spectacularly in that regard. The last scene with the cut never sat well with me but I suppose at the time I couldn't really find a way to express it on the screen. So again, thanks!
niceee storyyyy, like and sweet to read it