Thursday, November 7, 2013

NaNo Update Thursday: Opening to my novel

Okay, I'm still plugging away for NaNo. Here is the opening of the book. Let me know what you think. Remember, we are supposed to type and not edit along the way as it slows you down. So this is first draft and very rough.

The chill air burned with every intake, sweat beaded at her hairline and moistened the back of her neck. The thudding of each heartbeat blocked all other sounds. She paused to listen. The night was calm, no sounds. The eerie silence made the hairs on her arms stiffen. Where was he? He was close; she knew it—but where?

A snapping twig caught her attention. Pushing her dark brown wavy locks from her hot, flushed face, she cranes her head to strain her ears for sound. She shivers, but not from the cold night air. Hot foul breath brushes by at the base of her neck. She turns to face him. His eyes are dark, unmoved and filled with something she has never seen before, yet cannot describe. “Why are you doing this? Please, just let me go home.” The words barely a whisper off her lips. She places a trembling hand on his chest. “If you truly care about me, then let me go. You’re scaring me. Please…”

His wet lips pressed down hard on her mouth, cutting off her words. His long arms wrapped around her tightly. His fingers laced through the wavy locks at the back of her neck and tightened into a fist, pulling roughly on the roots of her hair as his right hand squeezes her waist. Pain shot through her body. Her left kidney felt as if it was about to explode from the pressure he applied. She shuttered under his grasp, but not out of need or lust. She tried to pull away, to take in fresh air. The need to clear her mind and feel space becomes overwhelming, but he held on tighter. His rough hand moved from her waist and over her, unzipping and pushing aside her hoodie. A sudden yank at the back of her neck stretched her throat so she could see the bright stars shinning down on what some might consider a romantic evening. To her, it was a living nightmare.

“You smell so good and your skin is warm, soft,” he breathed against her neck before slowly dragging his tongue from her ear lobe to her collarbone. She squeezed her eyes shut, tears seep from the corners. They blind her vision as she turns her head away, hoping to find something or someone to help her. She stifled back the sobs as he begins to rip at her shirt barely tucked into the front of jeans. She struggles against his hold, but a flash of steel catches in her sight. A knife. Her pupils flash bigger and a look of sudden panic covers her face. He once again pulls her head back to look deeply into her eyes. A smile spread across his smooth baby face as a cold metallic point presses against her stomach. “Don’t do that or I might cut you and you don’t want that do you?” She slowly shakes her head. “Good.” He pulls the fabric of her shirt way on the tip and she hears the rip of fabric. Her bare skin now exposed to the chill night. “You’ll do as I say right. No more fighting.” His words a statement instead of questions open for discussion. His eyes warned her he means what he is saying.

She bows her head in understanding as tears stream down her checks. He pushes her to the ground and she feels the hard earth beneath her along with his want for her pressing atop her. She closed her eyes. Her mind drifts to earlier in the evening when things were simple. When she was safe with her best friends just hours before. They were laughing and talking about Homecoming and now she was here, in a dark park with no one to help her. She had trusted him, but he was now betraying her—body and soul. “Please, stop,” she begged once again. “I won’t tell anyone. Just stop and let me go.”

His eyes meet hers. “Shut up!” Spittle sprayed into her face. She felt his stale breathe against her face. It was hot and made her eyes tear up more. “You knew this was coming. After all the teasing you pulled on me, you think I’m not going to take what is mine. You’re mine and I’ll do whatever I want. You know you want me.”

She held back the sob building in her throat. How can this be happening? She kicked out, struggling to push him off. One of his hands grabbed her throat. He flashes the knife so she can see it once again. He pushed the tip into her left cheek. Hot burning pain overcame her. Her eyes close to calm her racing thoughts and beating heart. A meek whisper escaped her lips once again, “Please, you’re hurting…”

Then there was darkness.

1 comment:

  1. I read about a heroic incident that happened in1996 in which a young woman, Keshia Thomas lived up to her values of hope and love during a Klan rally in our hometown of Ann Arbor, Michigan. Interview with an author alum