Contemporary fantasy--the MC has just had to make the best of an impossible situation, resulting in someone she cared about getting hurt. She's already dealing with the recent death of a family member. (And yes, the water is sentient to some degree, hence the fantasy label.)
"Is it--so hard to let yourself feel things?" he asked. "It just seems that you keep yourself strung, all the time. This kind of stress isn't healthy."
"Healthy or not," I whispered, "it's the only way." I clenched the railing and stared into the dark, churning water, water that, for every time it helped, doubled back with an undercurrent to betray me. "I can't…handle it if one more piece of me is ripped away." The memory of Ransom's shocked face reflected in my mind. How could I have just let him…? I knew what would happen if I did. And I did it anyway, because it would be for the "best," because it would make for the least casualties.
Simon rested his fingers on my arm, sending shoots of warmth through my skin. No, I thought in alarm. No, no, no. I had to stay frozen, or I wouldn't be able to hold it all together.
"Besides," he said, "stress is bad for your singing. Remember what your uncle said? Relax." He touched my shoulders. "This should not feel like a rock. And this--" he put a finger under my chin, "well, you need to keep your head up."
I closed my eyes rather than look at him, but I could still feel him close. My skin, traitorous organ it was, melted at his touch and longed for more. But I couldn't let that happen. He wasn't mine, he never was, and knowing the goodbye I'd be making by the end of the summer was more than I could stand. Not on top of what had just happened with Ransom.
Salty water speckled my cheeks. I swiped my arm across my face. "Stupid surf," I mumbled.
And then his arms wrapped themselves completely around me and pulled me close so that my face was hidden in his chest. Don't let go, my skin said, just as my mind panicked.
"It's okay to let some of it out," Simon said into my hair. "I'll hold the pieces together while you do."
PRIMARY EMOTION: SUPPRESSED GRIEF
Miss Snark's First Victim
I can definitely feel the suppressed grief when I read this.
ReplyDeleteI like the personification of her skin (don't let go, my skin said). Stuff like that works really well when used sparingly.
I think maybe some of the dialogue needs to be more sparse. Less is more kind of thing. That is probably a personal preference, but I think it might add to the tension.
Hmmm. It's hard to get a lot from the snippet without the rest of the story, but I'm close to feeling the suppressed grief. Can't give you an outright "yes" but that could be me...
ReplyDeleteHowever, the snippet does make me want to read the story, as I really like some of what I saw here!
~Merc
I love the emotions warring inside her--to want the comfort but to also feel that she must refuse it and stay strong, alone, to keep from a greater hurt. I think the repressed grief works quite well here, and the only place where I would consider a tweak would be here:
ReplyDeleteThe memory of Ransom's shocked face reflected in my mind. How could I have just let him…? I knew what would happen if I did. And I did it anyway, because it would be for the "best," because it would make for the least casualties.
To something like:
The memory of Ransom's shocked face reflected in my mind. I knew what would happen and I let it because it would be for the "best," because it would make for the least casualties.
Other than that--good stuff. I like the idea of sentient water as well--good hook.