Prologue
‘I said, grow a fucking spine, you fucking bitch!’ He shouted as he slapped my face. I sat on the edge of our bed crying, sobbing so much it was almost impossible to breathe. Through tear blurred vision I saw him raising his hand again; I closed my eyes in anticipation and let out a childlike scream when I felt my brain shake hard against my skull.
The memory of this 30 second interruption in my life played over and over in my head, as if in slow motion and on repeat as I dug the razor blade deeper into my arm. ‘Grow a fucking spine, what the fuck was he talking about?’ I muttered to myself. As the blood rushed to the surface I felt a huge relief, like I had been drowning and had just taken my first big gulp of air. I let myself sit back against the cold bath side while I enjoyed the dizzying feelings of pain, normality for a few minutes. Then I did as I always did, washed and dried my arm and the blade, put the blade back away in my makeup bag, then applied pressure to the wound to clot the bleeding and put my jumper back on.
My name is Amelia Rose and this is my story. I know that sounds cheesy, right? Everyone has a story, but I want to share mine so my life hasn’t been wasted. It is a story of love, abuse, self - harm and getting over the past. It is a warning to all out there who suffer as I did and reassurance that you are not alone. I will be watching over you when you need me.
Chapter 1
‘Happy Birthday!’ Sophia screamed down the phone. ‘We’re at the club, are you on your way yet?!’ I could hear Jemima and Lisa giggling over the loud music in the background. ‘Yes, yes I’m getting out of the taxi now, will be there in a minute!’ My Birthday and I’m still the one being hassled! I hung up the phone and hopped out of the taxi. ‘Thank you.’ I shouted as I thrust the money into the driver’s hand and did my best impression of running in the highest stilettos I own. As soon as I walked in the club I saw my friends. They jumped up and started singing Happy Birthday as loudly as I believe they could, my lovely friends. I walked over to the table, Sophia tied a helium balloon around my wrist, kissing my cheek whilst Jemima shoved an umbrella and sparkler topped cocktail in my other hand. ‘Whoa! Thanks guys, is it someone’s birthday in here?!’ I joked, laughing. We all sat down to discuss the gossip of the past week. This had become a Friday night ritual of ours since we had left school and started working, every Friday night in the same club at the same table we would drink and dance our worries away, all night if we had to. ‘You look totally gorgeous Amelia!’ Sophia squealed with excitement. I had to admit I had made a bit of an effort, with it being my special day and all. I had curled my long wavy sandy brown hair into big lose ringlets and was trying out my new glittery eye shadow to see if it really did extenuate my big blue eyes as the sales woman in the shop had promised me it would. ‘Thanks Sophia, you don’t look so bad yourself! So what’s been going on everyone?’ I was eager to pass the puck as I knew I didn’t have any gossip. My life was about as boring as an agoraphobic’s social diary at the moment. Lisa had big news to celebrate; she had finally got the promotion she had worked so hard to get. Lisa was probably the most sensible of the four of us she always kept her head in the books at school and was no different in adulthood. She was quiet and conserved but never succeeded in blending into the crowd as she desired, at five foot nine with thick red ringlets she looked as though she could be a model. Naturally Lisa didn’t agree. We all congratulated her on her promotion and were so pleased for her, although we all knew this meant the end of Lisa’s attendance on Friday nights. Jemima was next to reveal all about her past week. She told us the snotty nosed old woman in need of a ‘bloody good shag’ from accounts at her work had left the company, apparently to stay with a sick relative down south for the foreseeable. Jemima was so pleased with this news she almost forgot to tell us her long term boyfriend, Neil had arranged a surprise spa get away weekend for them. They were heading down to Hampshire the next morning for some pampering. I honestly never knew how Jemima managed to be so attractive to the opposite sex; she was nothing like a lady. Sure she was pretty enough, but when she opened her mouth you never knew what was going to come out of it. Then there was Sophia. ‘Meet me in the ladies.’ I counted to twenty, made my excuses and met Sophia in the ladies room. Sophia ushered me into a cubicle with her. ‘It’s going to happen!’ she whispered, eyes bright and beaming from ear to ear. Knowing what she was about to say I asked what was going to happen anyway. ‘It’s Tim. Tim has promised me he is definitely going to tell his wife about us this week! Then we can be together, and wake up next to each other every morning! Isn’t it exciting? We’ll finally be able to go out like a normal couple!’ Obviously I knew this was not going to be so. The amount of times I have told Sophia that married men don’t just up and leave their wives for the other woman, but it never sinks in. I smiled and hugged Sophia keeping my opinion to myself. I couldn’t burst her bubble again, as she said it’s always different when you look at it from the outside, I would like to think for her sake that she’s right. Sophia was my best friend of the group, she was the one I had known the longest so therefore trusted the most. She was beautiful, with her big bright smile and brown eyes, her long wavy brown hair always looked perfect. Men literally dropped at her feet yet all she ever wanted was other women’s men. Maybe she liked the chase and the thrill of potentially getting caught or maybe she just didn’t want to commit, either way I guess being the other woman had its perks, she was always being whisked away to fancy, expensive, romantic hotels for nights of secret passion. As we returned to our table it suddenly struck me that something was missing from my life. I didn’t have a fancy job with great career prospects or a man to fool around with. There was just me in my life, me and my crappy minimum wage department store job. I needed something, a new job maybe? Nah I liked my crappy department store job, the staff discount was worth the daily agro from the customers. That only left one thing. A man! I actually needed a man in my life!
Chapter 2
After spending a few weeks looking up forgotten single male friends in my phone book and on my social networking sites, it happened on my lunch break. I was queuing up in the take away closest to work for a Friday treat when I noticed a new member of staff behind the counter. He was everything a woman could ask for, clique, I know! Tall, fair haired, muscular, but not too muscular, an ass to die for and oh, when he smiled he revealed the most perfect teeth and his eyes just sparkled. It was love at first sight, but, no, what could I possibly order now from this greasy take away without it reflecting badly on me? I decided to order just as I normally would, once I could remember how to form words. No man is worth sacrificing my Friday burger and chips treat for. Besides he would probably never be interested in me. ‘Hey there, doll face, you’re our one hundredth customer of the day! Your meal is on the manager, what will it be?’ Oh my God, oh my God! He spoke! Reply! Just say anything! His smile was so delicious and his voice husky yet soothing. ‘Oh err, hi, thank you, I’ll err, I’ll have a chicken wrap with salad please.’ What am I doing? This is burger and chips Friday and I’ve opted for the healthiest thing on the menu! ‘Sure thing doll face, I’ll just need you to write your name and number down to confirm to my manager I gave you your free meal.’ He winked. Oh no, he winked, I can’t feel my legs. Just relax and breathe, relax and breathe. I wrote my name and number on the scrap of paper he had placed in front of me on the counter, my hands are so sweaty! ‘Here you go doll, I’ve stuck a bottle of cold water in their too, you look hot!’ I totally blushed, I know he saw it too! I grabbed the carrier bag and almost ran out of the shop.
As it was such a lovely sunny spring afternoon I sat on the wall outside the department store I worked at to eat my lunch. I placed the bottle of water on the wall next to me and took the chicken wrap out of the carrier bag. The white wrapper had red ink smudged on it, as I carefully unwrapped my lunch the ink became clearer, ‘Meet me, 6pm in the park.’ There was a phone number too! My heart began to race, my hands sweaty again, I reached for the bottle of water and gulped until I almost choked, could it really be from him? My phone bleeped displaying one new text message, I opened it, and it was from the number on the wrapper, ‘Hi doll face, hope you got my note? See you tonight. M x’
To be continued???
Hi Amanda
Sorry this may seem late but I've been rather tied up and only just finished reading your piece.
Firstly; I think Neeraj, Susan and KAte all make very valid points. The work would benefit from a bit of tightening up and minor re-arrangement within the chapters. Also, I think prologues tend to turn publishers off these days, unless you're writing book two/three/four of a saga and need to give a little insight into how we got to be where we are.
But it is set in a different time and completely different place to chapter one, so you cannot simply merge them. Making the prologue chapter one is one answer, but I think Kate's point about Misery Memoire is something to bear in mind. I don't have a satisfactory answer I'm afraid. Perhaps try writing the rest of the story and see how it pans out. Maybe you don't need this piece or you could chop it down?
Secondly; being pedantic, I think 'She was quiet and reserved' is what you probably meant. If she was 'conserved' then she would have been turned into jam.
Also, I agree that I don't believe a person would actually feel their head hid their skull. That would possibly be the last thing they did feel, though I get the point you're trying to put over. Perhaps her ears rang or she felt the blood rush to her head?
I like the description of the self-harm, as I previously commented; but in my experience (too many social workers in the family) self-harm is usually a symptom of sexual abuse. Lying and covering up, and blaming themselves are common among victims of violence. Though of course there is no set rule to this, so what you've put is perfectly valid to the story.
Finally; I really like the night out with her friends. Descriptions of the people and how our central character views them all are excellent, but as stated by another commenter, it would really fly if you could put some more dialogue in here and possibly some more brief action descriptions.
This is pretty good Amanda. Please continue with it and let us read the whole story.
Regards
PabloJ
Hi.
I think this could be an interesting story, and from what I’ve read so far, I would be interested in reading more. I have only recently started posting comments and haven’t yet posted my own work, so I will do my best to be nice in the hope that others (and you) will be equally constructive and gentle with mine!
I thought that the prologue reads like (what agents and publishers refer to as) Misery Memoir (just my opinion). I assume from the chapters, however, that it is fiction (no one would really meet in a night club to gossip – they’d never hear each other). If it is fiction, I would suggest rewording your beginning. I have seen on agents websites “we do not accept Misery Memoirs or Science Fiction” or words to that effect. If you are writing drama, agents and publishers will be more interested, I think. (Again, that is only my opinion, and I am neither agent nor publisher).
The first line is very attention grabbing, but actually I think the second paragraph would be better at the beginning, with a bit of rewording so it makes sense as an opening line. Maybe start with the description of self-harm (which I thought was written very well) and make some reference to the same 30 seconds being replayed over and over, without telling us yet what it is. It would be more compelling, I think, to hint at previous abuse but make the reader wait a while to find out what it was.
I also wondered if you really needed to have a prologue, and whether the whole of your post could be the first chapter. (There is an advice article on this website that covers how to open a novel and the pitfalls of using a prologue – try typing prologue into the search box.) Currently, chapter one is less than 1000 words and chapter two even less (although that chapter might not be finished yet). I think that is quite short for adult contemporary fiction.
I think you should continue writing this story. Maybe repost if you are redrafting and/or post other chapters.
Hope that was useful.
Promising start, well done.
I haven't much to add except that yes it does need setting out differently (hard to do on here) and that perhaps the big chunk of text in the first chapter could be broken down a bit more. You could use more dialogue, actions etc to make it more of a 'showing' the reader rather than just telling.
Good luck with the rest.