Sunday, November 16, 2008

"I had sex with my father to make him happy" who wants a longer version?

sighhh. Okay so I called it "Her Daddy Said So" but you know, sure, "I had sex with my father" describes it far more clearly ^_^
anyway so two people have asked for like, a longer, proper version
ehhh not a fan of rewriting or restructuring stuff i've already written but if i get more than two people wanting, well i am but here to serve /pssh
sooo if you want more, >.<, people always want more lol aha little cynical voice there,
anyway, yeah you have to comment, not just tick those damn boxes, stupid idea >.<
soooo comment
and i'll get to work on that other thing previously as well, ze washing machine / lighter / letter thing....
so.. /bows
what would you like, my people?
AHAHAHAH my people...
i appreciate constructive criticism a lot.


Sunday, November 9, 2008


Toivoaa is allowing people to read a portion of her writing, not just the completed thing... I hate hate hate having people read something of mine when its not finished, or at least you can see a sizeable amount of it and know the direction its going in. i'm very tentative with regards to my writing, even more so in it's unfinished stages. even if i think it's good, i worry that i have flawed judgement and so, anxiously await the critique of others; then think that they're just being nice coz they're friends... until i allow myself to be convinced, kind of. i'm probably overly critical of my writing, but ah well.
anyway this is completely unrefined, it's going to need some working over, plus i'm still turning over in my head different directions it could go. and it could go many different directions ^_^
i have to pick one, maybe two and go with that. once i have tried one thing, it stays in my head and i can't shake it while trying to go somewhere else with the same beginning...
i'm nervous.
tell me if i should just can it now.

here goes...

[and yes it does finish mid sentence]

He read the letter one more time, carefully, before crumpling it in his hands. His hands, which were shaking, he noticed, absent-mindedly. It had been a long time. Ten years today, in fact. The old questions stirred to life once more, tumbling like the contents of a washing machine; yet never, it had seemed, to be hung out to dry. But now, finally, some had been laid to rest.
He turned from where he was standing still, suddenly, abruptly. His mind was no calmer than before, with these answers came yet more questions; more puzzles he may never know the answer to. The whirlwind had reawakened, and he was once more caught helplessly in the swirling turmoil it brought.

Sealing the envelope, she ignited the lighter. Holding it close to the paper, she watched the tiny flame flicker blue at the edges. So small, and yet contained unseen within its innocence and warmth, a terrible power lies. Power to destroy, to shatter lives, to take everything beautiful in


Tuesday, November 4, 2008

Her Daddy Said So

So I found a hard copy of this story finally. I would not like to have lost it, since I keep records of everything. I got 18/20 for it... I wrote this last year in semester 2 for the Murder and Mayhem year 11 English course. Just in case the thought crosses your mind, this isn't written from experience in any way hahh. I haven't looked at it since I wrote it, sooo hopefully it's somewhat decent. From what I remember it was kindah horrifying and disturbingly painful to read, having got into the character while writing. Hopefully it is still as realistic as I thought it seemed then. I didn't have the heart to kill off my poor, brave, main suffering character, which could easily have happened with such a parent. >=( I wanted to leave an opening where she might escape and find a better life, out of her heartbreaking childhood. I guess hope comes out in my writing also.

She awoke from the pain, for an instant not knowing where she was. Bright lights assaulted her eyes as she attempted to see. The ever recognisable disinfectant smell that belonged almost solely to hospitals hung in the air [sentence too long aghhh]. She cringed. She hated the hospital, having been there often enough. Finally adjustng to the light, she saw her daddy sitting at the end of her bed. An involuntary shudder shook her small body once more.
"Daddy, I'm sorry!" she whispered. "I didn't mean to."
Her daddy looked up and smiled.
"It's good to see you awake, honey. You've been asleep for quite a while."
She smiled tentatively back at him as he turned to the nurse.
"She worries that everything is her fault... I'm not sure why. She's just a kid; they're always having accidents at this age. I could see it happening, too. I tried to stop her, but I was too far away. She just fell off the balcony like a little rag doll. God, I had my heart in my mouth."
Lowering his voice, he continued. She had to strain to hear [what he was saying].
"It's just that she seems to have more accidents than most, always falling off this or that, bumping into another. A few months back she managed to pull a mug of hot coffee off the kitchen bench. It poured all over her. Poor thing's screams could be heard around the whole neighbourhood, I'm sure. I'm worried she might have some sort of co-ordination or eyesight problems?"
The nurse gave a sympathetic nod.
"Yes, it's always tough when they're little. Mind you, it doesn't improve as they get older. The trouble I've had with my two boys... my God[, doesn't bear talking about.] Anyway, if you want, I could arrange for her to have a proper check up."
He thought for a while, then slowly shook his head.
"Might wait a bit, see if she grows out of it. I was quite clumsy as a child as well. It probably runs in the family."
He laughed, and the girl watching him intently from her bed relaxed further. When her daddy laughed, it was a good sign and meant she was less likely to do something wrong. But this was still one of those laughs that he used a lot around other people, especially at the hospital, when sometimes he was still angry but didn't want to show it. At times like that, he also said lots of things that weren't true, and was as nice to her as if she never did anything wrong. She still couldn't understand it.

But she was only a stupid girl, and she was so bad she couldn't understand the things other people did. Even when she tried her hardest, she still couldn't help but do something naughty. That's why she never went out of the house, except to the hospital. That was also why her daddy had to punish her, to teach her the right thing. One day she would be a good girl and her daddy would let her go outside to other places, and make friends with other people. Right now, if she was friends with anyone she would turn them into bad people too; she was a bad influence.

It was because of her that her mummy left, and because of her that her daddy was out of a job. It was because of her that the house was so messy, and her fault that daddy was always angry. If she could just be quieter, if she knew how to cook, if she cleaned and was good, then he would be happy and everything would be okay. But she was just a lazy bitch. Her daddy said so.

The nurse left the room, explaining she had some other patients to check on. The instant the door shut, her daddy stood up and came closer. He no longer made any effort to mask his anger, the fury twisting his face.
"You little shit! I'm trying to help you, and what do you do? You can't even learn a lesson without injuring yourself, costing your daddy even more money! I try to do right by you, but you don't appreciate anything!"
She fought not to cry, not to shrink down inside the blankets. She had done the wrong thing and had woken her daddy up too early. She had to accept her punishment. Crying was wrong. So was trying to not learn a lesson, which was why she nodded, taking every word to heart.
"I'm sorry, Daddy," she whispered once more.
"Oh, you will be! Just wait till you get home."
The nurse entered the room once more.
"That's a brave girl you've got there," she said brightly.
No she wasn't. She was a selfish brat.
Her daddy said so.


The girl was led upstairs. It was growing dark but she could see that the house her father had walked her to was just as dirty as theirs. The woman she was now standing in front of seemed rough and slightly grimy, in keeping with the surroundings.
"What's your name, girl?" the woman asked brusquely.
"I don't really have one, ma'am. But I think I was called Jesika, once."
She didn't say it aloud, but she thought this name had been given to her by her mother. She had a faint memory of a woman talking to her and smiling at her, [looking at her in a way she hadn't seen in a long time. In this memory the woman was] saying,
"Jesika, can you say Mummy? Can you smile for mummy? Come on..."
She was sure this was her mum. Maybe it was because she hadn't been able to smile and say "mummy" that her mother had left...

She was jolted out of her thoughts as the woman grabbed her arm.
"Come on, Jesika, then. I don't know if you know why you're here and if this is your choice, it's like as not, but that's not my business."
She stopped outside a door with no handle. Pushing it open, she said, "In you get."
Jesika walked in and sat down on the single item of furniture in the room, the small, grubby bed.
"Now wait here until someone comes in. Do what you are asked."

With those words, the door swung shut and she was left alone. When her father had left her here, it has been without a word of explanation. Without her father here, how could he tell her if she was doing something wrong? She needed him! Never had she been apart from him for longer than ten minutes, and never while away from home. She didn't go to school because she was so stupid; she couldn't even learn the lessons he tried to teach her.
So there was no way she could learn other, harder lessons.
Her daddy said so.
Before they had left the house today, he had told her it was time for her to get them some money, since she used so much of it. That had to be why she was here.
She didn't question the matter any longer. Questions were for people who were smarter than her.

Eventually the door opened once more and a man walked in, taking a swig from a bottle. Jesika sat on the bed looking at him. After a minute, he roared, "Well get on with it girl!"
"What do you want me to do, sir?" she asked, hesitantly.
He grabbed her by the collar and pulled her towards him, throwing the bottle to the ground as he did so. [The glass shattered, flying across the room.]
"I came here for a fuck, not a bloody question and answer session!"
He tore her shirt from the collar down, and from there ripped off the rest of her clothing [clothes].
He then slammed her onto the bed and took off his own clothing.
"You don't look like much, bich, but you sure are gonna learn a few things tonight!"
With another leer, he lowered himself on top of her.
All of this time, Jesika had remained silent. She had learned to accept anything without complaint. But even she could not stop her screams as her nine year old body was first entered by a man that night.


At the age of ten, she arrived home one morning to find her father passed out on the floor. Several beer bottles and a puddle of vomit lay around him. She knelt to wake him gently. Blearily, he opened his eyes and sat up.
"Ah, fuck." Putting his hand to his head, he cursed some more.
"I've got one bitch[hell] of a hangover and a lying slut[bitch] for a daughter who can't do anything but try to ruin my life. What'd I do to deserve all the shit in my life, huh?"
He snatched the ice pack she'd run to get and stumbled off to bed, leaving her to clean up.

Later that day, he called Jesika to his room.
"You want to be good some day, don't you?" he asked.
She nodded.
"Don't just nod!"
"Yes, Dad."
Now, do you see that you can't even answer a simple question right? How can you expect to ever make me happy, when I do so much for you and all I get in return are your screw-ups?"
"I don't know, Daddy. I'm sorry."
"Well, I've thought of something you might be able to do right, something that could make your daddy happy."
"I want you to show me what you can do in bed. You ought to be pretty experienced by now, yeah? Come on."
She hesitated. The chance for her to finally do something right, to make her dad happy, was the one thing she wanted most in the world, but this felt wrong somehow. Yet how could it be wrong? Her dad was telling her to do it, and he was never wrong.
Jesika slipped out of her clothes with practiced ease, clambering onto the bed. She was finally going to make him happy, and so she ignored the lingering doubt in her mind as she was united with her father in a way that was never meant to be.

Because her daddy said so.

Ms White : "Capable use of setting and dialogue and a sympathetic development of character."
- strong internal landscape
- middle section needs strengthening
- "A horrifyinh portrait of abuse. The protagonist's voice is clear and strong. How does this fit within the topic?"
Uhhhhh well I'd say it was just a little "mayhemic" but ehh fine. 18 out of 20, i'm happy. It's kinda bland at the start and I'm not so satisfied with it, tell me what you think?