I guess reading Senmee's short stories gave me the urge to try it myself. Although I wasn't planning to, I just thought it might help me sleep yesterday (but it didn't really). It took me an hour to write this so it is nothing really. Not even worth posting I think. I was just going to add it to Senmee's thread where it could get lost, but I guess that was the thread which was deleted.




He sat back against the wall, a deep sigh accompanied the motion. The room was dark but not completely. It was yet day outside. The curtain was drawn but the fabric was not to the task of completely disbarring the sun. The load he had carried, and which had tired him from the effort, lay face down on the opposite side of the room, at the foot of the bed. He had tried to hoist her upon it, but she was uncooperative and as soon as he left her to lay there, she would slide off, allowing her body to prostrate itself however it would.

Looking now upon that defeated disarray he became aware of the regret which had been building since her efforts to resist had ceased.

But I cannot go back now, he knew. I have come this far, I have as good as condemned myself. What I have left? To take what I can and die, else take nothing and die again.

This had become another moment. One where reflection of his actions tormented him. He had many, and ceaseless nights had been spent in reliving, correcting and despairing in them. He would remember. Then, he would change his actions and fantasize the methods he should have taken. Finally, the truth of moments passed, never to be again, would reinforce his melancholy. Never had the moment been so close upon reflection, however. Maybe here; maybe this time... he can do it as he knew he should.

She had still not stirred from that abandoned posture. Perhaps in misery she feigns to shut the world out. Pretend it will go away hard enough and it just might.

He lifted himself from his crouch and slowly approached. As he came closer she hurriedly pulled herself up and kicked away against the floor until her shoulders met the wall. She did not stop pushing with herlegs and compacted herself as tightly into the corner as she could manage. Her posture entirely defensive. It was a pitiful sight. She was young and very slight. He had chosen her in particular because of her small frame.

'Please, don't hurt me. If you just let me go, I won't tell anybody... Please.'

What price must he pay for ruining two lives? Be it all the agony that could be coaxed from his body he would pay it. He would pay it ten times over. But, why? Why now, does he hestitate? Here he has the thing which his reckless action has delivered him. Yet here he stands arrested before her plea.

'What is your name?' he asked evenly.

She unfolded her head from between her arms and looked up, searching reassurance.

'Stacey. My name's Stacey.'

'Listen, Stacey. When they ask about me, tell them... Tell them I couldn't do it. I thought I could... act selfishly but, I cannot. Please tell them and you can go home.'

He stepped away from her and opened the door. Afterwards crossing the room and sitting at the desk there. As she left he remained, turned away, leaning over a notebook slowly scribbling a passage. Not stirring even when the door clicked shut.

But, why can't he tell them himself? She wondered.

Fin.




If you have any opinions, please be honest. I would especially like to hear what you didn't like, if you took the time to read it.

I had to read it twice to at least understand what it was about, and even now I still have more questions about it. Who are they? It's quite mysterious, and I really like that.

I thought it was quite good, Reanimator. I thought the elliptical quality of the story was very effective in piquing and keeping the reader's interest, particularly the way at the beginning the 'load' that the narrator is carrying turns out to be a kidnapped girl. The problem I had with the story was that the material doesn't really fit a 'short short story'.
The main problem is that in the kind of story you're writing the focus of the reader's interest falls naturally on the main character's psychology as well as the suspense of the plot -- what's he gonna do with the girl -- which you don't have time to develop in a work this short. This is why when a Ruth Rendell or Thomas Harris write novels with plots centred around the actions of 'psychologically abnormal' characters they always use the novel. In the 'short,short story' plot-driven suspense and interest in complex psychological states are avoided.

I read this earlier, but got distracted and didn't reply.

It's good, way better than anything I'd write, but it just doesn't make sense to me.. I don't understand what the situation was, what they were talking about, what he wrote... Just almost everything about it was like "wat"

Okay, so here's what happens in Reanimator's story: guy kidnaps girl, plans to do nasty things to her but his conscience gets the better of him: he lets her go, tells her to tell the authorities that he couldn't bring himself to go through with it. He sits down at a table and begins writing his suicide note while she leaves wondering why he won't be able to tell the authorities himself when they come to arrest him.

Thanks everyone for the responses, they are very valuable to me, even just to say that you didn't understand it. Which makes me realise the text is too sparse. It was my first attempt at writing, so it was bound to be a little problematic.

I appreciate you breaking it down for me Saigyo. I'll consider your advice carefully next time and think about the genre and what I'm trying to accomplish, so I can match the style better to the theme. I agree suspense is an important part of a story of this type and I didn't give the reader chance to feel that before the situation was resolved.

I enjoyed that and your style of writing is very impressive to me. I actually enjoyed how indirect the story was and how I started off trying to figure out if he kidnapped someone or murdered her.

Though I do agree with Saigyo that it could have been longer in order to delve into the mind of the kidnapper to see his psychological state. Either way good work, I hope you continue writing!

But.. There was no hint that any of that even happened..

Maybe it was like he kidnapped a girl, pretended to assault her but was really trying to lose her trust, then makes up a lie and tells her to tell the authorities that and lets her leave. Then he writes down her reaction in a notebook, and he can't tell the authorities himself because he is going to leave to live in a different place and kidnap a different girl. Or something. I just didn't see any hint of anything happening and the whole story made no sense to me. Maybe if there were more hints as to what was happening, it'd be better. But this story was more of a thing to let the imagination run wild.

Sometimes, that's the best kind of story, to be honest. It makes you want to read more.

...But... There was no more.

Yeah, I know.

GET ON THAT, HERBERT WEST!