Saving Autumn: A Preview
I've been giving you guys hints and quotes from my NaNoWriMo novel for the past month; but now I want to give you the first "chapter" of my book. I'm trying to begin the ruthless re-writing stage which I have no idea how to accomplish or where to start or anything. But it's gotta get done; I'm writing this book for all of my kids from Rise Above It Missions; My RAIM kids, as I call them. They've touched my heart and inspired me and I want to inspire them back. I want them to know that there's hope. With that being said, I need some feedback. What are some words of wisdom you could lend to an aspiring author such as myself? Whatever you would like to lend; encouragement, tips, thoughts, questions, whatever! But most of all, please enjoy this first chapter. Also, I'm going to throw in some pictures at the bottom that have nothing to do with my novel but enjoy those too!
I remember the first time I ever self harmed.
I was in 8th grade and had gotten into a huge fight with my best friend, Miley. Of course the fight really wasn’t all that big, but it felt like it was at the time. It started because I had to stay home one Friday night and she wanted to go to the movies. I didn’t. So I stayed home. The next day she came over and she looked pretty ticked, so we talked outside. She screamed at me and called me horrible things. She claimed I didn’t even care about our friendship at all. That also made me a loser, pathetic, and fat.
I ran inside crying to my dad and told him the whole story and he gave me a hug and tried to comfort me. That was back in the day when I actually went to my parents for stuff; that phase ended a few months after. I was getting better until my older brother came along. He thought because he was seventeen that he could say whatever he wanted to. He still has that same mindset.
“Have you ever considered that maybe she was…well, right?” Alec laughed.
It was too much for my fragile heart. I went over and punched him and then ran straight for my room. My punch hadn’t had the effect I had wanted it to because I was far too weak to hurt someone; I was more like an annoying bug that he could just swat away if he pleased. I heard him laughing as I fled upstairs.
I got to my room, my fortress, my sanctuary, and I slammed the door shut and sat up against it. All the bad words whirled around in my head and I covered my ears to try and shut them out, but they kept coming. I should have run right then, I should have gone to my mom or my dad or someone; but I didn’t. And the next thing I knew, I was believing all those things that were said about me.
I’m a loser. Miley was right. So was Alec. They’ve always been right. I’m pathetic and fat and worthless…
Soon I was calling myself names that I wasn’t even sure I knew the definitions of. But not one positive thought came to mind. I never should have let the voices in. Because once you let them in, they refuse to leave.
Filthy little brat. You’re a bad girl. A bad, bad girl.
“I’m sorry.” I said out loud.
Punishment! You deserve punishment!
“I know…I know. I’m such a bad girl.” I cried.
The voices demanded that I be punished, so I looked around to find something, anything, to punish myself with. I glanced over and found a pair of scissors by an art project I had been working on. They just sat on my desk and called my name.
Yes Allison. Do it.
I had heard about people who cut themselves before but I never understood them until that very moment. Maybe those people heard the voices too. The voices told people to cut themselves. I was in no position to negotiate with them so I got up and grabbed the scissors. They made a scraping noise and they slid open; I held them tight with my left hand and my right arm extended out.
Then I cut.
It was real swift. I let out a cry as the blade swept across my skin; slicing open small fragments of my flesh. There was no blood, but it left a long cut up my arm. My hands began to tremble; but I cut a few more lines anyway. It hurt but it felt so good. It was that bittersweet feeling.
How do you feel?
I felt oddly relieved. I looked curiously at the scissors in my hand and the cuts on my arm and that was the moment I had realized that I was gone.
Because I smiled.