How do you like the first chapter of my book?
Posted by: Alan in Stop Snoring Remedies, tags: Book, chapter, first, LikeQuestion by jo: How do you like the first chapter of my book?
Charlotte would have taken another option, given the choice. Instead she was now listening to the loud clinking of metal bars, enclosing her inside a cramped ‘room’. A part tugging inside of her begged her to show tears, of sadness, regret, anything. But she did not feel any remorse at all, even when the image of a blood streaked window flashed by quickly in her mind, or when the sound of a high pitched scream rang in her ears once again.
She grimaced slightly as her thoughts traced back to no less than a half an hour ago. Every time she imagined her therapist’s bird like nose twitch or her shrill voice fill the room, more anger rippled through her body. “How are you today, how are you feeling?”
The bulky guard, whom she forgot was standing right next to her, quickly broke her train of thought. He coughed loudly and gave her the evil eye. “I do not want any ‘funny business’ in your time here, do not try to break out of your cell, it will not work, and your jail time will only be extended. “ He said. His voice, deep and scratchy, reminded Charlotte of fingers running through a chalk board.
He scratched the back of his head, and bent forward to show off his crew cut. “Sixteen years in the military, fourteen in the navy.” He boasted. “Don’t be messing with me.”
She rolled her eyes and shrugged, “Why would I want to get out to begin with? It’s better here than stupid school or my whole stupid life.” She dug her finger into one of her nails, and scratched out the dried red fluid stuck underneath. For a moment the guard was taken aback, but snapped out of it in the matter of seconds.
“Not what you were expecting from an innocent-looking teenage girl, huh?” She said, smirking at his response. The guard didn’t reply, instead focused all his interest on a crack in the cement wall. Charlotte tapped her foot gently and tried to act like the lack of response didn’t bother her.
When the rattling once again filled the air, she scowled. “This is the real, deal, ain’t it?” Her eyes locked with the guard’s, and she let out a tiny whimper like a drowsy puppy would. The guard nodded his head nonchalantly, looking not at all sympathetic.
It was only when she heard the loud slam that she finally realized this was going to be her life. She couldn’t change it now, and she had to deal with all the consequences her psychotic self gave her.
Charlotte flinched as she heard a loud beeping noise, followed by static and mumbled voices. Shortly after she realized it was the guard’s walky talky, who was hectically rummaging through his bag. She used the opportunity to examine him more closely than she had before.
His body was buff and lean, for a man who looked like he was in his late forties or early fifties. The shirt he wore was blood red, and resembled a tank top of some sort. It was obviously meant to show off his muscles, and to attract, or maybe just frighten, everyone who saw him.
He wore red sweat pants, the same shade as his shirt, and ragged flip-flops the color of mud.
The little hair he had was gray, and looked like it could easily fall out. Patches of stubble were next to both his upper and lower lip, which she had noticed him rub constantly.
Soon enough the guard found his walky talky and spoke loudly into it. “Sorry, Eliza, I’ll be there in a second.” He nodded his head, and said “Yes,” a thousand times, until finally there a beep to show the conversation ended.
Charlotte tried to understand what the people on the other end of the call said, but they used numbers and their voices sounded too meshed together. The only words she was able to make out were: Cell, Charlotte, and new. “What were they saying about me, whatever your name is?”
“Vincent,” The guard quickly mumbled under his breath, then turned away sharply and left.
The hallway of cells was deathly quiet, only muffled snores and sleepy voices could be heard. Charlotte gazed at the floor tiles, stained with blood, dirt, and she didn’t want to know what else. She cringed at just the site, and felt nauseous when she reminded herself this was going to be her home for the next three years, if not more.
She shuffled her feet quietly towards her bed, and then carefully placed herself atop it. It was nothing but a wooden crate and a cheesy mattress on top, about as useful as a thin sleeping bag. On top was a bleached towel, like one you would see on a shower door.
The cramped room made Charlotte feel claustrophobic, being three feet wide and five feet tall at the most. She practically had no room to breathe. Two “beds” sat across from each other, and a small toilet was squeezed between them. Three more tiles down was the door.
Suddenly, she started to feel light headed. Her eyelids began to be too heavy to keep open, and her head started to spin. She took deep breaths, and counted to three, but that just made the pain ache more and more. Soon enough, she blacked out.
*****************
It was ten years later, and she still
Here’s the next part:
It was ten years later, and she still wasn’t free. She was at the telephone speaking with her two kids, Sarah and Jake.
Jake was a short, stocky kid. His face was rarely ever washed, so a thick layer of grease covered the whole thing. He had pimples covering his entire forehead and the bridge of his nose, and his long, unruly hair looked like it hadn’t been washed in weeks, if not months. Charlotte could smell his body odor from the other side of the glass wall.
“Hey Mom, what’s up?” Jake slurred. “How are you today…”
“I’m fine, hon. How about you?”
“I’m okay….” He mumbled something else and then his voice drifted off. He started humming and tapped his fingers on the table.
“How’s school going?” She asked him, but he didn’t answer. Instead he started to hum louder and louder. The sound of it deafening, he had no song and mind and was instead was humming random off-key notes. & I don’t have enough room 2 finish the rest.
Best answer:
Answer by The Cake is a Lie
wow good job!
Very nice writing.
I couldnt have done better
Keep at it 
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