November 20, 2019 at 12:24 pm #101634
Hi, this is my short story that i entred into the short story contest. I know its pretty horrible but id appreciate critiques on it. I didn’t know who to tag. .so if you have any friends who might be interested could you please tag them? Thanks.
STUCK IN THE REPEAT
I took a deep breath, filling my lungs with the chilly air. The rope felt rough in my scarred hands. Relaxing my muscles, I slowly let bits of the rope feed out of my hand as the large blood bay gelding walked as far back as he could get from me. He pranced tensely, his ears pressed back and the whites of his eyes showing around his brown ones, just like my blue ones had done so many times before. If it wasn’t for the wooden corral fence enclosing us, he would be gone in a flash. He reared up on his scarred hind legs, showing the big gash on his belly. Seeing that the fence was too high, he came back down on all fours, and moved from one foot to the other. He wouldn’t trust again. Not after what they had done.
I understood. I didn’t either.
“Here goes…” I whispered as I lifted the end of the rope, swinging it in his direction.
Immediately he took off, going in a canter around the corral. He was going fast, too fast.
“You’re going fast! Too fast!” I cried, gripping onto the handle of the car door. Trees and cars whizzed past in the darkening light, but my drunk foster father seemed unaware of it all. Glancing back at the bright lights of blue, white, and red, their sirens drummed in my head, yelling at us to stop.
“Please stop! You’re going to get us killed!”
He swerved around a car, the force of it almost throwing me out of my seat.
“Please!!” I screamed, my heart slamming in my throat, my vision blinding me with pictures of all the ways this could end, and my bleeding head throbbing all the more.
“Quiet girl!” he yelled at me, taking his hand off the wheel and slapped me across my face.
I let out a small cry, the blow stunning me for a second, then a terrible stinging that took my breath away.
The car swerved out of control, spinning fast, I didn’t have time to scream before the world crashed to a stop. I lurched forward, my head cracking on the windshield.
I blinked hard, shaking my head to get rid of the dizziness as I kept turning in circles quickly to keep looking at the gelding. He was tossing his head around, his canter fast and his steps uneven.
“C’mon boy…” I let out more of the rope, to lay the pressure off by having the rope slack in between us.
The gelding kept going at his mad pace, not once looking at me. Sweat was forming on his shaggy, unkept coat.
“Don’t worry, calm down!”
“Don’t worry! Calm down!” the 17-year-old boy said, as he shoved me into the closet to hide. I was shaking from head to foot, as the familiar sound of police sirens came closer.
Stumbling onto my knees, I did my best to hide my small frame behind the coats and shoes. I heard the boy do likewise, then he closed the door, locking it, and stuffed the key into a shoe.
“Shh!” He shushed me, as if I could somehow slow my own panicked, rhythmless heartbeat, or my quick sharp painful breaths.
“How did they find us??” he muttered quietly to himself.
I didn’t say anything, knowing he’d probably beat me, or even try to kill me if he knew it was I that called the foster agency to tell them my 9th Foster family were bad, and it was I who called the police to tell them that my foster family had illegal drugs here, so it was I who was terrified of them finding out.
I took a deep breath as my heart hammered with the rhythm of his canter. I knew I was making it worse, my fear traveling to him like a crashing wave. The same wave that felt like it was drowning me. I tried to comfort him and myself.
“Chillax, nothing’s going to happen to you.”
But he didn’t believe me, he felt like he was in terrible danger forever. Trapped behind bars. For something he didn’t do.
“Chillax, nothing’s going to happen to you.” My younger foster sister sneered at my couldn’t-stop-shaking form, as a police officer pushed me into the waiting car. Handcuffed.
I didn’t believe her, I felt like I was in terrible danger forever. Trapped behind bars. For something I didn’t do.
The world around me blurred in shock as they drove me to the jail. Me? Going to jail? I wasn’t the best of kids, but I would never imagine doing something so horrible as this. And worse, I didn’t do it, but would be blamed for it, in a way that no one would believe me.
‘Just a reckless sixteen-year-old foster teen who can’t be trusted.’ That’s what they had labeled me. Just because I’d been kicked from, or run away from rotten homes does not mean I’m not trustable! I’m the sane one! Those stupid foster families are the ones who should be behind bars! Not me.
Tears pressed against my eyelids, but I fought them. They didn’t need to see that the ‘reckless foster kid’ was also emotional.
In a daze the car stopped and I was taken inside.
This can’t be real.
The bars blurred before my eyes. My cell.
No. It can’t. It’s all just a dream!
I was taken inside.
The door closed with a loud bang.
It’s a nightmare!
Locking me inside.
Trapping me forever.
I was awake.
Living a nightmare.
Tears pressed against my eyelids as I watched the gelding. So wild with fear, from every time he had been kicked out, thrown out, abandoned.
“I-I know boy…” I whispered. “I know how it feels.” I felt choked down, the memories from six years ago, too thick to talk about.
He flicked an ear towards me. Taking that as he was listening, I continued. “I get it boy. Was I even ever wanted in my real first home?”
Was I even ever wanted here? Tears slid down my face as I watched my father getting married to another woman who was not my mother.
A week ago, she had been killed in a car accident, and he was still going to do this? To us? To me? I tucked my head under my arm. Laughter floated out from the other rooms: my dad’s laughter, that– that woman’s voice telling him how funny he was. He had never laughed like that with mom and I, what had happened to him? Was he just a fake the whole time? Glad for mom to be gone?
Glad for me to be gone?
“Daddy, what happened to you?” I sobbed, thinking of the days that lay ahead. Sending me off so he could be with his new family. Laughing to go into his new family, while he ripped me out of mine, leaving me torn, and bleeding inside.
And after a year in boarding school, my dad died too, and I never knew if I was ever wanted or loved by him.
I took a shaky breath, trying to calm my emotions. He glanced at me once then looked away, then did so again. I held my breath as he slowed down to a trot, then to a walk.
He was thinking about me, thinking that maybe I wasn’t so bad. Maybe, maybe he could trust me. He slowed to a slower walk then stopped, flicking his ears towards me.
My phone buzzed loudly, a text coming in.
The gelding did a little jump, and quickly cantered off. His muscles twitching and tense, ears pressed back and stiff, eyes white with fear and constantly moving, tail swishing hard and quick.
“It’s okay boy! It’s…okay.” But he didn’t trust me. He didn’t trust that I’d take care of him. That I’d save him from it. From anything that could hurt him. He knew that running away from it was better than risking it by trusting.
Why should he think I was any different? He’d been in the constant circle, constant cycle, of the same things. Stuck in the circle of new owners who hurt and misused him. Stuck in the cycle of fear being the only emotion remaining. Stuck in the repeat of running and running. Stuck in the terrifying repeat of different owners who might hurt him again.
He was stuck. Like I was. Stuck in the circle of foster home after foster home who didn’t want me, and showed it. Who hurt me when I had done nothing at all. Stuck in the cycle of fear and always being on the run, and there always being something, or someone to be running from. Stuck in the terrifying repeat that might go on forever.
But two weeks ago, that all changed.
I slipped out the back door and broke into a run. These people were just weird. They seemed nice, and had nothing wrong, but I knew it was just an act they put the first day for the foster agency, tomorrow would be the real horribleness. Better get out while I can.
“Yuri wait!” Hearing my supposed-to-be-adoptive dad’s voice, I slowed and glanced back.
“Go ahead and call the police, or foster agency now,” I told him, might as well do it now then have them chase me then do it.
“No darling. I’m not calling the police or the foster agency.”
“What?” Was this dude crazy?
“You don’t have to run anymore, we’re adopting you, which means you’ll stay with us forever,” I found myself repeating the words he had told me, half to myself, half to the gelding. “No more rotten homes, no more hurt. Just here you will be safe and loved.”
The gelding gave a snort, sounding like the one I had given my adopted dad. “Please I want to help,” I whispered to him. “I don’t know why you…why I’ve had it so awful, boy.” My adoptive parents talk about this Creator who’s in control, how could he do this to him? To me?
“But I don’t know what more I can do. I don’t know how… I-I’m sorry I can’t help.” I choked as I let go of the rope, as I stumbled to my knees, and crumpled onto the ground. “I’m so sorry.” Tears that I had been holding back for so long flowed down my face, the tension, the hurt, and the pain I had held back for so long coming out in a flood.
Why? Why does it hurt? Why does life feel so rotten? If there was someone up there, does he hate me? And just is toying with me for fun? What did I do to deserve all this pain? To be stuck in all this? Why won’t you help me?
I sniffled, then paused, muffling my sobs behind my hands. Soft steps approached me from behind. A warm breath blew onto the back of my neck, sending chills through me, and his whiskers tickled me softly.
My heart leaped. He came. He accepted me. He trusts me. I lifted my head, and turned to look at him. I was blinking through the tears to see his head bent down to be near me, like he was making sure I was okay. I gently blew into his nostrils, and he blew back, accepting my offer of friendship.
“Thank you boy, thank you.” I kissed his nose, and scratched under his chin. He gave a soft nicker and nuzzled my shoulder, chewing on the end of my braid. And thank you, I thought to the one in control of this.
I slowly stood up, and the gelding did not shield away or jump back, just waiting to see what I would do, ears perked forward, muscles relaxed.
“C’mon boy.” I walked towards the gate, and out to the barn that he had kicked and reared about going in before. He followed at my shoulder with only a slight hesitation going in the barn. Putting him in his stall, I settled on a haybale near him.
“You don’t have to run anymore, or ever again. We’re adopted, so we stay here forever. Always, together my…my Amigo” It was the perfect name for my new friend.
The setting sun sent beams of lights through the slants of the barn, particles of dust that he had stirred up dancing in the glow. I closed my eyes with a soft sigh, the smell of hay and oats reached my nostrils, accompanied by the soft sounds of Amigo eating, while his tail swished back and forth in pleasure. What was this feeling, peace? Love?
“Now all we are is stuck in peace, stuck in the repeat of love, comfort, and safety.” I smiled for the first time since I could remember. Thank you, you are right. I do not deserve something so wonderful as this.
“This is finally where we should be, and where we are wanted. Together we are home.”November 20, 2019 at 1:03 pm #101638Dakota@dakotaNovember 20, 2019 at 1:15 pm #101640November 20, 2019 at 3:57 pm #101651November 20, 2019 at 11:25 pm #101696November 21, 2019 at 4:34 pm #101733Kayla Skywriter@kayla-skywriter
Hi, I love your story. Do you have horses? Cause not everything in there is correct on the horse side of it. If you want I can help you with that.
How we chose to fight is just as important as what we fight forNovember 21, 2019 at 8:15 pm #101750November 22, 2019 at 11:00 am #101791November 22, 2019 at 11:08 am #101792
Can someone help critique this and tell me what’s so horrible about it, and maybe how i can make it better? Cuz a certain group said its not any good (to feely/dirmatic, not good writing, ect) that i shouldn’t have even entered it into the contest cuz it would be a waist of money.. but theyre not writers so they didn’t tell me ways i can fix it. So all i know is a story i thought was fine, maybe good is actually horrible and there’s no way to fix it. 🙁 help please!
~KatDecember 3, 2019 at 2:14 am #102297Selah@selah-chelyah
Hiya, friend! I will read your above, intriguing story when I have a sec…unfortunately not right at the moment. 😀 Thanks for tagging me! I will tag anyone else I think of… XD
Assistant Guildmaster of the Awesome Meraki
~ Created to create ~December 3, 2019 at 9:14 am #102300Naiya Dyani@naiya-dyani
@katthewriter I’d love to help you out when I have a little time to do so! I’m just about to enter the craziness of finishing school up for Christmas vacation, that’s all. I’ll be thinking about this, though!
I do want to say one thing, though–I like your story. There may be some flaws here and there, but that’s to be expected. I think overall it’s a good story, one worth putting effort into polishing. The concept is intriguing, and the way you wrote it (with connections between flashbacks) is fascinating. So yeah, don’t quit believing in your story! 🙂
Hearts are like matter--they can be beaten down, torn, and burned, but they cannot be destroyed.December 13, 2019 at 4:28 am #102629Selah@selah-chelyah
Lol, I was just gonna tag you and ask you if you’d want to read Kat’s short story, and here you already did. XD I totally agree with what you said about it!
Want a short story to read?! (See topic above. 😛 )
- This reply was modified 3 months, 2 weeks ago by Selah.
Assistant Guildmaster of the Awesome Meraki
~ Created to create ~December 13, 2019 at 1:18 pm #102644Veraza Winterknight@kari-karast
I really like your story! There’s just one thing that I strongly dislike. The foster family stuff. Yes, maybe some foster families aren’t that good, but most of them are. And you have to go training and get checked out by the state and everything just to become able to foster, and then you get frequently checked up on when you do have foster kids in the house. And I do speak from experience, seeing as my family fosters. So I’d suggest maybe you do a bit more research about that sort of thing. Because while I could see a couple of foster families being horrid, not nine in a row. 😉 But other than that, I really liked it!! The way you stuck in the flashbacks was really good, didn’t seem forced at all to me.
"You can dance with my henchman."December 14, 2019 at 9:56 am #102679Kayla Skywriter@kayla-skywriter
How we chose to fight is just as important as what we fight forDecember 14, 2019 at 3:13 pm #102709
No you don’t need to tag anyone I’m killing this story and writing her a longer one. And yes ik Kira, not all ate bad, but I’ve heard of plenty bad ones, and yes, she did have other ok ones ibetween those they just arnt worth remembering. Some of my kids i work with are actually with thier parents and not foster and have had experiances like to some of this. The world is bad. But her family who’s adopting her is better.
I’m trashing this and writing her a new story starting when she is an a ‘okay’ foster family, but she’s also kinda a bad kid so… xD and some guy at school likes her. Brian. I’ll put the snippet on and i can tag yall for snippets for a new Yuri book
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