Welcome to Gaia! ::

I'm glad you're loving it! As far as "Where does the girl come in," that's exactly what I want you to be thinking until she DOES come in. Then it all comes together. So now I know I'm doing it right!



you're revising MY work? I wanna see! I wanna know how I can change it for the better! That's the whole reason I'm posting it, lol!

I would revise, if I were not revising for exams...I shall be free in 2 months!

I want more!!!!

Okay, here is installment four:

That night at dinner, Karina and her ten year old twin brothers sat down with their parents to a lovely meal. Her mother was about to take a bite of her chicken when they heard glass breaking across the street. The members of the family looked at each other solemn silence until Karina stammered out, "I'll close the window."

She peeked outside at a staggering, beer bellied old man drinking from a bottle covered in a brown paper bag. He walked up the steps to Nick's house and went inside, yelling and cursing and slamming the door behind him. Karina quickly and awkwardly shut the window and went back to the table, then stopped halfway and decided to pull the curtains too. No one in the family mentioned anything about the incident and they had a sparsely scattered conversation throughout the meal about nothing in particular. Everyone knew that everyone was thinking about what they were all afraid to acknowledge--that such violence could be taking place right across the street from their house.

In the old house across the street, Nick paced back and forth as he waited for Robert to come home. He heard the front door slam. I have to look busy, Nick said to himself. He practically jumped into the seat by his desk, and then he opened his history book. He attempted to read, but the footsteps thundering up the stairs made him shiver and shake.

The smell of whiskey warned that Robert was coming down the hall now, and Nick tried hard not to look up until he sensed the large brooding shadow in the doorway. I should have closed the door, he thought, as if that would have changed anything.

"I got a phone call today," Robert grumble-slurred before taking a swig of liquor. There was a pause. Nick shrugged and looked back down at the textbook.

"Said you were in a fight." Another pause. Nick just stared at the paper, knowing that no matter what he said it could only make things worse.

Robert staggered into the room and grabbed Nick's face by the chin, twisting the boy's neck as far as it could reach to face him. "You look at me when I'm talking to you, boy!" He yelled.

Nick had his eyes shut tight. He trembled in his stepfather's grasp and was made very aware of the stale alcohol and cigarette smells on his breath. He opened his eyes cautiously and his reading glasses fell to the floor. A few drops of water he had been trying to hold back made their way down his cheeks.

"You're crying again? Just like your mother! Why don't I give you a reason to cry, huh?" Robert rambled on as he threw his stepson back in his seat, causing him to fall over with the chair crashing down on top of him.

Nick sat there with his glasses poking him in the side, hoping that if he didn't fight back he would be left alone. However, Robert had played this game a million times and seemed to know exactly what Nick was thinking. "Why don't you come out and fight like a man?" he taunted. "Don't make me come after you, boy. I'm not in a good mood today." As if he was ever in a good mood. As if he was ever not in a bad mood.

Nick remained still as if playing dead in front of a bear. Turn the other cheek, he thought. But this only made Robert more angry. He threw his whiskey bottle at the pile on the floor and kicked Nick in the side.

"C'mon! Get up, I told you!" he yelled while pushing the chair to one side. Nick laid on his chest with his head farthest from the door, covering his neck with his arms. Robert pulled him up by the shirt collar.

"I'll teach you not to ignore me, boy!" he yelled, and punched him in the back. Nick still remained silent. He was determined not to show Robert how much pain he was in.

Half an hour later, Nick lay alone on his bed, surrounded by sheets stained with blood, tears, sweat, and Jack Daniels. He stared up at the ceiling, his mind clear of thought, as he listened to the footsteps fade away back down the stairs. Only when they were gone did dare to move. He wiped the tears off of his face and searched for his journal. Opening it to the last entry, he began writing;

"They called Robert, just like I knew they would. If that's not bad enough, he came home drunk. He broke my chair, he broke my lamp, and he spilled whiskey all over my books. I don't know what I'll tell everyone at school. I hope I can cover up this bruise on my face with makeup, or I'll have to make something up about that too. This is too much. I?m tired of living my life in fear. I?m tired of living. I don't want to live anymore. I need to get away--run away, but to do it, I'd need help, or else he would find me. But it would be so much easier just to die. I might even be able to make it look like an accident. Or I could just disappear. If I jumped off a bridge into the river, they would never find me. But no, Mom's dead, Dad's dead, I have to carry on the family line. I have to live up to them. I have to try to make things better for myself. I have to make things right again. I have to survive this.

I have to go for a walk."

o.o

Poor Nick! I just want to jump in and kick Robert's arse! confused

Tis a very good installment, good job.

you know, ares, I thought of that, but violent/action scenes are supposed to have minimal description. I mean... you don't really pay attention to details when you're having the s**t beat out of you.

can I say s**t in this guild?

right, but we're supposed to be busy feeling for the character, so we shouldn't notice the details either. We're too focused on watching Robert throw wiskey bottles at his stepson.