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 December

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annelie
Nou-Venit


Numarul mesajelor : 2
Data de inscriere : 12/09/2008

MesajSubiect: December   Vin 12 Sept 2008 - 21:05

Pentru ca am vazut ca sunteti critici buni, imi incerc si eu norocul. E o povestioara pe care am scris-o pe la 16 ani (deci acum ceva timp) si pe care am gasit-o recent in calculator.

December

Staring at the blank screen…another page yet to be filled, it’s something I always hated. Another story begins… and this one doesn’t even have a shape. I don’t know where it will take me, maybe to nowhere, maybe to that place I’ve always dreamed of. Even if I like to think I have my feet firmly on the ground, sometimes the truth – that I am in fact a dreamer – occurs to me. That’s when I start writing. When all the extraordinary things that happened in my life become overwhelming, I lay them down on paper. A shrink I once saw said it might be good therapy, and he was right.

5 years ago - that’s when it all started. Five years which seem like five decades. I was happy and free, successful by most accounts; nothing could stop me. But nothing could have prepared me for what was going to happen. And, as unbelievable as it might seem, it’s all true. I’m still facing the consequences, I’m still fighting her demons…or perhaps they are mine… But I’m getting ahead of myself.

Yeah, it started 5 years ago, when I went to my boss’s “promotion party”…December 2nd

She stepped onto the cold marble stairs and passed, unaware of what was going on around her.

“I’m going to sleep.” she said to all the guests she had invited over to celebrate her promotion.

Everyone stared, but they didn’t whisper a sound. After all, she now owned 47% of the company and was one of the richest people in the country. They all rushed towards the exit…

“Oh, no, please, stay on. Enjoy yourselves”. Those were the last words I heard her say. We couldn’t resist the temptation of getting a glimpse of all the glamour she lived in, so we stayed on. After all, it was one hell of a party!

Some time after midnight we heard a hair-raising scream coming from upstairs and a few people (myself included) ran to see what was going on. As I opened her bedroom door, I was faced with the most horrid scene…one I can never forget, not now, not in 20 years’ time. The room had dark walls; but you could easily see the bloodstains all over the place, as if she had put up a struggle. But she lied dead, completely naked, on the Victorian bed. There were dark marks under her chin, and her eyes were wide open, with a terrified expression. Her torn clothes lay all over the floor and the room had become cold all of a sudden, even the fire seemed frozen. I could feel this terrible chill go through my skin, to my heart. I know for sure that then I had no feeling. I wasn’t even scared; this came later, after I left the room, all I felt was cold, and I could see I could see my heart reflected in everyone’s eyes. Then all of a sudden, the flames burst, and then the fire died.

I ran out and I realized I had lost my breath in there. All I wanted was to run away, but an invisible force, a voice in my head kept calling me back. I didn’t want to return, but I knew I had to. While I was still struggling with fear, someone had called the police and they all left her room.
I went back, trembling, and I searched for a notebook. Something that didn’t strike me at the time, but only later, is that I knew exactly where the book was. I just reached to a drawer, took it and hid it under my coat. Then I ran out.

The next few days are a bit of a blur. I got home, and all I could think about was how to forget. I drank those few days more than I had my entire life. I didn’t show up at work, but I later learnt that neither did most of my colleagues. I lied in bed and stared and that book I had taken. I knew I will have to read it one day, I knew it contained something I had to know, but I tried to postpone it. It felt like 2 thoughts were in conflict over my mind. There were times when I didn’t even feel like myself anymore.

After this nightmare week passed, I got over my hangovers, I locked the book away and I finally went to work. Everything came back to normal, but rumors about how she had died kept running amoc. The police didn’t discover anything. No strange fingerprints in the room, most of the guests had an alibi…they couldn’t even find a scapegoat. In a couple of months the case was classified. “Natural causes”……that’s what it read under “cause of death”.

Some time passed and I almost forgot about the book I had taken. I had a busy year, switched jobs, got married, and finally moved to another city. And one day, as I was going through my old files I found a key and remembered it was from the safe in the bank where I had hid the book. In all this time I hadn’t told a soul about it, not even my husband. And as I held that key, I felt the urge to read the book, like I was drawn to it without any possibility of resistance.

So I went on a trip in the weekend to see one of my old friends and I returned home carrying it. My husband was out of town so that night I started reading strange tales and poetry, plus a few pages in some language I didn't know:

December 1st [this was a day before she had died]
………I know it’s going to happen today. The party will be the perfect cover up. No one will know, and the one will only find this book if he/she is here. [The one??? I wondered if I was “the one”…. And what the hell did “the one” mean] I did all I set out to do. There is nothing to regret, but only that I leave this place with only too little memories…”

So she knew? Did she know she was going to die…so her death wasn’t an accident after all? I flipped a few pages towards the beginning.

January 2nd
Yesterday was brilliant. Jack came home and we spent NYE together. Finally one of his promises came true…………but now I’m so tired. All I really want is to get some sleep. This holiday has been awfully short. Jack says I’ll be too busy to attend my own wedding and I guess he’s right!………”

Blah, blah, blah. The tone was very different. It was like something had happened in the meantime that had changed her completely. I didn’t know what to believe. Maybe I should have left the diary where it was. I threw it on the floor then went to sleep.

And this is where it all began. Next thing I knew I was back in her house, the day she had died. But I wasn’t with the guests. We were alone in her room, and then suddenly she started screaming and turning on the floor. Then dark marks on her neck appeared and blood poured out of her back and hands. I was helpless, as I soon discovered. Some unknown force tore her clothes and it seemed like she could barely breathe. The marks on the neck grew darker and darker and with a last scream she fell on the bed and died. A few seconds after I saw …us … (me, the others) walk in the room with horrified expressions on our faces. I woke up in a state of shock, as I knew I had witnessed her actual death.

The next 2 days were insane. I was sure I had gone mad, so I locked myself in my bedroom and refused to see or speak to anyone. (This was indeed of a nature to prove I was mad…) Finally, hunger was stronger and the 3rd day I showed up for breakfast, to the amazement of my husband who looked at me as if I was a stranger. I can’t blame him though, the moment I looked into a mirror I saw how I had grown 20 years older in just 2 days. My hair was white and I couldn’t see well.

That was the first time I fancied killing myself. In no time my husband had become a stranger, I was afraid to speak to anyone and, above all, the dream and the diary were too much of a burden for my weary shoulders.

So I ran away. No I know it wasn’t the best thing I could do, but I ran as fast as I could. I booked into a cheap sleazy motel and decided to cut my wrists if I would still have that dream. Needless to say, the night was horrifying. Not only did I dream about the murder, but I also started to feel physical pain and, when I woke up, I had marks on my neck, so I did it………

I don’t know how long in lied on that dirty floor, but, when someone took me to the hospital, doctors discovered that I had lost a lot of blood. To their amazement though, as soon as they washed and disinfected the wounds, they started to close by themselves and I regained consciousness. My family put me into a mental institution for 3 years. In all this time I spoke to several psychiatrists who gave me the most diverse treatments. I confess, after a while the dreams stopped and I started to fell a little more in control. I didn’t think that much about the diary, the murder or my suicide attempt, but more about how to get my life back on track. Everyone said I was cured and I believed it. So, they let me go.

Back home, nothing was like before. My husband had divorced me (I guess the “for better for worse” phrase didn’t mean much to him), and everything was a mess. I soon realized that I couldn’t handle the pressures of my previous life style; I couldn’t trust anyone and I closed into myself. I moved again, I got a job as a waitress and I refused to make friends with anyone. I was just the “weird one”, I suppose.

This is my story. I wish I could say that it ended, but I’m afraid there’s more. If the doctors are right and I suffered a shock that night, how come after more than a year I started having nightmares? How come my boss knew she was going to die? Why do I still have that same dream every once in a while and why do I wake up feeling older each time? I don’t know. No one does. But I’m not insane. Something happened that night. I was “the one”. Maybe I just have to find it in me to keep looking…
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MesajSubiect: Re: December   Vin 12 Sept 2008 - 21:27

Ce-am remarcat e ca nu prea se respecta concordanta timpurilor Rolling Eyes si mai sunt ceva grammar slips, iar vocabularul e destul de limitat, nu crezi ca ti-ai fi gasit cuvintele mai bine in romana?
Valabil cam pentru orice limba, numeralele se scriu cu litere si nu cu cifre, pentru ca nu e un raport statistic.
Si inca ceva lie - lay - lain - sunt formele corecte ale verbului intranzitiv care inseamna a zacea
lie - lied - lied e a minti
si mai e si lay - laid - laid - care e tranzitiv si inseamna a intinde/a asterne
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Theo
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MesajSubiect: Re: December   Vin 12 Sept 2008 - 21:33

Incep cam brutal - se vede ca a fost scrisa la 16 ani.
Dar pentru ceva scris la 16 ani este scrisa ok, cel putin in umila mea parere. Nu imi place ca nu reiese o structura clara, si totusi imi place ideea de structura pe care o ai acolo - intai december 2nd apoi structura din cadrul jurnalului. Ce vreau sa spun prin asta? Se vede ca te-ai pus in fata tastaturii si ai scris, ai lasat proza sa curga fara sa o planifici cat de cat inainte. E ca un covor care pe la sfarsit se desira, dar are cateva chestii destul de bine inchegate.

La un moment dat m-am intrebat care e faza. Adica bine, vise, povesti, scris, vampiri (Presupun aici ca povestea face referire la vampirism, pentru ca asa reiese din semnele de pe gat si sangele pierdut) dar de ce si de unde pana unde? Asta cred ca e o hiba majora. In rest, sunt unele greseli de gramatica "I don’t know where it will take me, maybe to nowhere" dar le-ai descoperi daca ai reciti povestea. Cine stie, poate o vei continua odata Smile

Povestea nu m-a lasat cu ceva anume din care sa spun cat de extraordinara este. Mi-a adus aminte de Dracula - la un moment dat ai acelasi feeling, la o scara mult mai mica, ceea ce e foarte ok.


Sunt curios cum ai evoluat de atunci, din punct de vedere scriitoricesc Very Happy

Later edit: si eu voiam sa zic de numerale dar am uitat. Ups Razz
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Alin
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MesajSubiect: Re: December   Vin 12 Sept 2008 - 21:48

Subscriu la ce s-a spus mai sus in legatura cu micile scapari, dar sunt de acord ca pentru ceva scris la acea varsta este ok.

Am o singura chestie de comentat in legatura cu firul narativ. Din momentul in care personajul are visul/viziunea respectiva se face o trecere mult prea brusca la 'caderea' pe care o sufera...e ca si cum ai vrut sa faci un sumar cat mai scurt al evenimentelor de dupa vis...sau poate ca si cum vroiai sa termini mai repede.

La final m-a lasat cu senzatia ca ar putea fi o uvertura pentru o poveste mai complexa a personajului respectiv...un fel de 'am pornit de acolo, am ajuns aici....iar in continuare lucrurile devin si mai ciudate'.

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"I know I've got Irish blood because I wake up every day with a fuckin' hangover."
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annelie
Nou-Venit


Numarul mesajelor : 2
Data de inscriere : 12/09/2008

MesajSubiect: Re: December   Vin 12 Sept 2008 - 22:38

Ce rapizi sunteti cu feedback-ul - thanks Smile In legatura cu greselile de gramatica - ar fi trebuit sa recitesc acum si sa le mai corectez...adevarul e ca imi era prea lene.

@Theo: De atunci nu prea am mai evoluat (literar Razz ) in nici un fel; a fost un an in care am scris destul de mult, dup'aia mi-a pierit inspiratia. Dar nici nu am mai incercat sa o...exersez. Very Happy

@Alin: Din cate mai tin minte, intentia mea la momentul respectiv era intr'adevar sa dezvolt povestea, ce am postat eu aici se voia a fi un fel de prolog. Numai ca, asa cum am scris si mai sus... probleme cu muzele hm
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