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It Burned
It burned. I remember that much. I remember the fire that slowly trickled down my throat, heating my entire body. I remember it well. My friend was hungry and left to find food. She invited me to come along, but I stayed in the crowded room, the smells of each person mixing to create a nearly noxious aroma. Then he showed up out of no where, now-obvious mischief in those gleaming green eyes. In his hand was a red Solo cup. When I inquired what was in the cup, he assured me it was Sprite. Relief washed over me as I realized I wasn't the only sober person at this party. After getting bumped and knocked into, he suggested we go sit on the couch. So we did. Well, I did. He just stood there, smiling down at me. He placed his cup on the wooden coffee table, confessing that he wasn't a Sprite fan. Then, just like that, as quickly as he came, he was gone. I relaxed a bit and let my guard down. Within seconds I was being pushed against the couch. Someone forced my mouth open and I saw the cup being grabbed from the table. Its contents were poured down my throat, and my whole body went numb. I couldn't fight back. Then everything went black.
***********************
As I sit in the quiet police station, the officer finishes writing down my story. The florescent lights reflect off the sweat on his balding head. I don't know how I got here. I don't remember ever being asked to be brought here. The officer looks up at me with tired blue eyes. He's been here for hours as I struggle to tell him what happened.
"Now," he practically yawns, "can you remember anything else May?"
"Yeah," I say while staring down at the blue tiled floor. Tears come to my eyes as I say, "It burned."
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This article has 9 comments.
I know, I know, you don't know me and didn't ask for feedback... but it's what I do! Feel free to ignore me completely, if you wish! ;)
So let me begin by saying that I love this! Your writing is eloquent, your story length about perfect, your grammar spot-on, your spelling flawless (THANK YOU FOR GOOD SPELLING AND GRAMMAR!). However, may I suggest one thing?Your little details add so much to this story (and the other stories you've posted as well), but one thing I would suggest is even more detail. Show us what's happening, don't tell us, as my creative writing teacher always told the class. Don't just say "I was being pushed against the couch." Convey your character's fear and describe the experience utilizing all of her senses. This encounter would be fixed in her brain, connected to the adrenaline rush of fear or surprise, even if she didn't remember the rest of what happened to her.
Anyhow, very nice! I very much enjoyed this piece. :)
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