Thursday, May 27, 2010

Character Sketch-Edited

I edited my Character Sketch, please re-read and tell me if this flows better!

Standing on a DC street corner, praying no one would stop, but desperately needing someone to.  Her stomach growls were getting louder, but not quite humble enough to ask for help.  Her spirit hungry and pockets empty.  The shine of brake lights almost blinded, taking her mind to a place that she never wanted to go.  Reality was now in front of her, negotiating pricing and services all the while trembling within.  Once in the car, hearing the door slam, she remembered her father.  The things he did to her, the things he made her do.  Fear took over her mind.  Then flashbacks of the rape by the boy she trusted as a young teen, holding her down, cries for help ignored and disregarded.  Now fear took over-scared to back out terrified of what he would do to her if she changed her mind.  No choice remained but to go through with it.  They parked in a dark alley and got out of the car.  She couldnt face him, she couldnt face herself.

Leaning on the hood of the car she told him, "only from the back."

Handing him a condom, she pulled down her tight blue jeans just enough for him to enter her.  Closing her eyes and pretending this was not happening.  Tears streamed down her face.  Her soul was bleeding, attempting to seperate her mind from her physical actions.  Thank goodness it didnt last long.  She then pulled her pants up and walked almost drunkenly down the alley.  Barely able to walk in her heels; the trembling was overwhelming.  No longer able to control the muscles in her legs, she felt weak.

She walked back to the spot where she was supposed to meet her so-called boyfriend.  Knowing he would be upset because she did nothing that was prearranged.  She called him, and he was yelling in her ear of how scared he was for her.  Telling her that he had been up and down the streets looking for her, scared for her life.  She wanted to run, but had nowhere to go.

As he pulled up, he demanded her to get in the car.  And started cursing her out about the money when he found out that she accepted only half of what she was supposed to ask for.  He took the money that she just sold her soul for and stopped the car in the middle of the street.  He yanked her out of the car with a fist full of her hair, pulling her earring out and she heard it fall to the pavement right before her face landed.  Screaming for help, but no one came to her rescue.  Seeing rage in his eyes that she never knew existed.  Trying to remember the love his eyes once displayed.  He got back in the car and sped off circling the block then yelled at her to get in the car.  After she did, he beat her in the face, blood gushing from her lip.  One hit after another, not only bruising her face but her spirit as well.  He punched her repeatedly for over an hour, while still driving his car.  Her head kept hitting her window and felt as if it would explode.  Wishing he would just go ahead and kill her, she was hurting inside worse than the physical pain she was feeling.  Ending it all was something she thought about every day, but didnt have the courage to do.

The last words she heard him speak as she got out the car, "I did this because I love you Nicole, and was scared to lose you."

***

Nicole sat observing the variety of different people in the busy train station.  Wearing sunglasses; trying to hide her black and swollen eyes.  She watched families with smiles on their faces, couples looking as they were truly in love, children tightly grasping thier mother's hand.  She was deperately missing her daughters, crying on the inside while the smiles on her face hid the pain.  Scared to be alone, or in the streets, this would not be her first night sleeping at this train station.  As she sat reflecting, realizing these consequences were recourses for her actions.  She had no one to blame but herself.  She was lost from herself, lost from her true potential.  Homeless, to no fault but her own and the choices she made.  She lost her daughters, her husband, her job, her home, and everything that ever mattered, or what she thought mattered at the time.  Her reactions reflected desperation, her need for survival, her desire to overcome.  Attempting to find strength to not give up completely; this seemed like the easier way out right now.  She was disgusted and blaming herself.  Her situation, her actions were no longer her.  She did not want to live, praying for God to end her misery and suffering.  She walked to the pay phone and called her mother with tears filling her eyes.  Finally-deciding to get on the next train to Myrtle Beach, South Carolina leaving DC, leaving her daughters in order to get herself together.

19 comments:

Brian Miller said...

oh my, my stomach is heavy, my throat burning, my hands clenching...and warm tears paint my face...this is so sad...and real.

JStar said...

Yea Brian, its more real than people want to realize....Not sure if you remember the poem I wrote to this regard awhile back...See my book is going to dig a lot deeper than my poetry does....So do you like how I wrote this???? I havent wrote novel style in decades... Does it fit a character sketch???

sheri... said...

wow, this is incredibly raw and full of emotions, gut-wrenching emotions. to finally come to her senses was such a relief but she leaves her children? the story is horrible and messy but such a well written account of life...jstar, this is powerful!

25champ said...

the strength it took 2 write these words is amazing in itself. So much chaos and terror, yet perserverance was still a must. We all show different forms of strength and jus being able 2 share this is amazing.

Maha said...

you are leaving MY soul hurting. this is so incredibly touching more than you could even imagine! Even when she's running, she has to leave something behind and staying would only hurt her more. Her struggle is so poignant, so full of emotions and her suffering is gut-wrenching.

Miss.Stefanie said...

Raw, real and beautiful...FLAT OUT!

Just telling it like it is said...

My heart is always with you...thank you for always being so sweet to me it means a lot to me!! I love your hair!!!

Just telling it like it is said...

P S I think you are very strong and you give me hope!!!! everyone is not able!!!!

Katherine said...

Oh JStar you have painted her character very well. As I read your story, I can envisage it in my mind & it's terrifying! I feel so sad for her...and so sad that life took her to that dark & terrible place. I hope that she rediscovers herself at home & that she can forget all those terrible events in her life!!!

Jingle said...

morning,
wow,
hope things get well soon.
thanks for always stopping by and giving encouragement.

1manview said...

I myself can't write a lick, that's why I write poetry. Loved this story, you caught the essence and since you asked, I shall give one opinion.. The ending, I read the word she often... Maybe you could shorten some sentences by eliminating a few of them.. Then again, it just might make it longer.. lol ... just a thought...

JStar said...

Thanks all for your help! Yes, I TOTALLY agree

Emmanuel Ibok said...

I really want to take my time to read this. I will be back to carefully read it. Let me do the rounds at the rally. I enjoy your presence to be sincere.

moondustwriter said...

Not just a story - a harsh reality

well done

Don said...

Wow.......


That said, these are exactly my kinds of fiction reads. My novel is written with the same sense of reality.

Damn good stuff, Jstar.

steveroni said...

NOT a writer, me. But I'll tell you I read every word, feeling every feeling which you allowed the reader.

I even felt more than she...but since this is a character SKETCH, maybe I should limit my own feelings until another version.

This left me tired, confused, ashamed, hopeless--because I "became" that girl. And she might be on the road to recovery...

PS. I wanted to know her name, instead of "her", "she", etc. But that is just "me"....grin!

TimKeeton said...

Very nice (as always).

I hope you'll come back and visit my sites again:

Tim Keeton - A Writer's Tale

and

The Undead Poets Society

Rhyme on!

Tim Keeton
(Undead)Poet / Wizard / Teller-of-tales
A Week 19 Perfect Poet Award Winner

Ed Pilolla said...

where you got me here was 'no choice remained but to go through with it.' that hit it. i think that's a universal moment, something is happening and we believe we must participate. it's all we know of surviving in that moment. powerful stuff. glad i stopped by.

Jingle said...

I read it,
well,
good writing...
I know this does happen...
life is crazy...
a father shall let go of his daughter...

beautiful story.