Novel Treatments / Oil & Water, Chapter 1
Christian had to give it to Aunt Lyn. She was trying damn hard to make this a good Christmas for her and her brother. Liam was only three, so she didn’t have to try too hard with him. Some gingerbread men and the anticipation of Santa’s arrival was enough to keep his young mind occupied for the night. It was enough to make him forget that his parents were dead, and this would be his first Christmas, and the start of the rest of his life, without them.
Lyn wouldn’t have such an easy time with Christian.
She sat before the fireplace in the den, gazing aimlessly into the glowing flames. The low hum of Christmas tunes and Liam’s laughter filled the air, along with the wondrous aromas of Aunt Lyn’s turkey and apple pie as the door to the den opened behind her. “Christmas dinner is almost ready, Chris,” Lyn said, poking her head into the room. Before Christian could reply, Lyn took notice to the Christmas tree in the corner of the room. Clearing her throat, she murmured, “You unplugged it.”
Christian turned in her seat. “The lights were hurting my eyes.”
For a moment, Lyn didn’t reply, just stared pitifully at her niece. Finally she stepped into the room, shutting the door gently behind her. “You know, honey, it wouldn’t hurt to try to enjoy your holiday,” she said softly. “You owe it to yourself. I know…I know how hard this is but…But life goes on and you have to keep on living it.”
Christian shut her eyes tightly, inhaled deeply. She tightened her jaw to keep my lower lip from trembling, forced back the tears that threatened to come forth. She had to keep on living? They were dead, because of her, but she had to keep on living?
Avoiding Aunt Lyn’s stare, she stood and reached for her coat. “I’m going for a walk.”
“A walk? Where? It’s getting dark.”
“I’ll be okay,” she said, moving past her aunt. Lyn followed her to the front door, considered stopping her but decided against it. Maybe some fresh air would do her niece good.
“Don’t be too long, okay?” Lyn called after her. Christian didn’t reply, didn’t turn back, just hurried across the yard and onto the street. She needed to get away, far away. Another moment of Christmas spirit and she was going to scream. But where to go?
She didn’t know anyone in East Pine yet, and even if she did, who was as miserable as her? Everyone else within a fifty-mile radius, probably more, was opening gifts and watching Christmas cartoons and drinking hot chocolate in front of their decorated trees. No one would want her around, bringing down the mood. So she turned off of the road and into the woods where she was sure she could be free from all the Christmas glee.
Abel sat on the corner of his street, contemplating his next move for the night. It was Christmas Evening, he shouldn’t have been sitting in his cold, dark car. He should’ve been celebrating the holiday with friends and family. At least I tried, he thought, rolling his eyes. Goddamn Christmas. He just wished it would be over.
He peered down the street toward his small blue house. Jensen’s rusty pick-up sat in the driveway, the living room light peeked out through the blinds. Abel could bet money that his father was having as miserable a night as he was, and he was probably drowning himself in booze to ease the pain. So Abel definitely wasn’t going home.
He considered turning around and just going back to his girlfriend’s house. Brandie, fucking Brandie. The way her name made his blood boil and his fists clench tightly around the steering wheel made it clear that her house wasn’t the right move, either. So he remained on the corner, admiring all the houses around him that sparkled with Christmas lights. He leaned back and tried to imagine the days when his own house was decorated for Christmas. He tried to picture his own family sitting around the dinner table over Christmas dinner, laughing and reminiscing about the year that passed.
He drew a blank.
He sighed miserably, opening his eyes just in time to see the front door of the house before him swing open and a girl step out. His new neighbor. He’d only seen her once before that night, when she was driving by as she and Lynda Shannen unpacked the moving truck. He hadn’t noticed how pretty she was then. Or how sad.
So he wasn’t the only dismal jerk on Christmas. This girl, so exotically beautiful, looked as if she were going to cry. She walked fast, biting down hard on her bottom lip. Her big, green eyes swollen and glossy, her peanut butter colored skin was crimson. Her arms were crossed tightly over her chest as she sped by Abel’s car and continued down the street.
His eyes followed her stride, only leaving her to glance back at her house. Where was she off to? Did her family know she was gone? She looked as if she was headed toward town, but it surely wasn’t walking distance, especially not in the biting cold. And even if it was, everything was shut down tight on a account of Christmas. So where was she going, all distraught?
The high pitched ring of his cell phone snatched his attention away from the girl, just as she turned into the woods. He grabbed it and rolled his eyes as Brandie’s name blinked in black letters on the bright, white screen. Sighing, he answering.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “Okay? I’m sorry.”
“You’re sorry?”
“Yes, but what do you want me to do? What’s done is done.”
Why did she do that? Why apologize in one breath if you were only going to try and justify your actions in the next. It cancelled out the apology. He considered that was Brandie’s point. “It’s Christmas Day and you’re high, Brandie.”
She sucked her teeth. “I know, I shouldn’t have smoked, but like I said, what’s done is done. Just come back, Abel. What else are you gonna do tonight?”
“Nothing. And I’d rather do nothing then spend the evening with you, high. I mean, shit, Brandie. I thought…” He paused. Don’t sound like a sucker, don’t sound like a sucker. “I thought we would have a nice night together for once and you couldn’t even hold your fucking head up.”
“I’m. Sorry. How many different ways would you like me to say it?”
Abel shook his head. She was annoyed with him. How was that possible? “Just call me when you’re sober, okay?”
“So you’re not going to come back?”
“No.”
There was silence for a moment, and then, true to Brandie, she came back swinging. “Fine, spend Christmas by yourself, then. Better yet, go home and get cozy with your alcoholic-fucking-father. I’m sure he has a beer bottle wrapped up real nice for you—”
Click. He hung up the phone and tossed it back down on the passenger seat. Christmas, fucking Christmas. He hated it more every year. He just needed to be alone. He bet that’s what the girl, his new neighbor, was off to do, too. Get some alone time, away from all the holly-jolly bullshit, and red and green lights, and crappy ass Christmas carols. She probably went off to bask in her own self-pity.
Good idea, he thought, sticking the key the ignition. His car roared to life and he whipped it around and started down the street, turning off onto a trail that lead into the forest. Yes, there was nothing like good ol’ nature to give a man the peace he needed. He bet the trees and animals weren’t merry.
Or drunk.
Or high.
His car made its way down the trail that led to his perfect alone place. There he could clear his head, relax, wait until he was sure he father was good and passed out before he returned home to the warmth of his bedroom.
When he reached the small bridge that led over the river, he slammed on his breaks. Standing there on the ledge, eyes clothes and arms spread, was the girl. His distraught, and apparently suicidal, new neighbor.
A gust of wind forced Christian’s body forward, almost off the edge. Her heart raced, her entire body trembled. She took a deep breath. On three, she’d jump. She’d end it. She’d pacify the throbbing pain in her heart, the sharp kick of guilt in her gut, the ache of loneliness, helplessness, desolation that consumed her.
One.
She thought of her family, what was left of it. They would be so hurt. Better now, while their wounds from her parents’ death were still open.
Two.
How would Liam take it? Since the morning she explained that Mommy and Daddy weren’t coming back and they were going to live with Auntie Lyn, Liam didn’t seem to comprehend what was actually happening. He’d nod, say okay, and that was it. No sadness, no confusion, no questions or complaints. Just okay. She knew his grief was in there somewhere, waiting to explode out of him. Maybe it would be too much. Maybe his denial was his mind’s way of saving him.
Three.
Liam would need her when his time of grieving came. No one else would understand the way she did, no one else would be able to comfort him. She wasn’t his mother but she was the next best thing, after all. The only other person that really knew him.
Three!
If she died…
Another hot tear rolled down her cheek. She couldn’t kill herself. Of course she couldn’t. She’d survived the car accident for a reason. To be there for Liam. That’s what she needed to do.
Dropping her arms to her sides, she let her eyes flutter open. She inhaled, feeling a sense of calm she hadn’t felt in a while. Liam would hate her one day for taking his parents away from him. But until that day, she would take care of him as if she’d birthed him herself. He needed her.
She looked down at her feet, examined the wooden ledge she stood on. How the heck was she going to get off that thing? Another gust of wind blew and she rocked forward. “Hey!” someone screamed. She spun toward the voice and then suddenly, she was falling. The last thing she saw before she hit the icy water was Liam’s face.
“Jesus!” Abel cried, rushing forward. He looked over the edge but all he could see was a blur of her being pulled further beneath the water’s surface.
Kicking off his coat and sneakers, he flung himself over the ledge and into the river. When his body hit the water, he felt as if he landed on a bed of nail. The cold engulfed him, absorbed him, swallowed him whole. The pain, the sharp, stinging pain was overwhelming, immobilizing. It felt as if every joint in his body locked, froze. What was he thinking? He was going to die trying to save this girl.
He fought to move his limbs, to propel forward. He could see her, just feet away from him. She was motionless, moving with the water’s current. He pushed forward with his legs, reached for her, caught her by the coat and pulled her toward him. Now to just get back to the surface, out of the water.
He held the girl against him, pumped his legs despite the burning pain in his calves and thighs. When he finally reached the surface, he sucked in a large breath of ice-cold air.
He pulled the girl’s head above the water, but quickly realized she wasn’t breathing. His own chest felt taut, his breathes were short and tight. He thought his muscles would give out on him any second and the bank of the river seemed like miles away. He forced myself to keep moving though, fought through the excruciating pain until his hands reached solid land.
Still holding her against his chest, he struggled to climb out of the water and found a spot in the cold, dry grass where he laid the girl. Her brown skin was pale, her lips were purple. He tried to feel for a pulse, but the numbness of his hands wouldn’t allow it. Lowering his ear to her mouth, he listened for even the shallowest of breaths, but heard nothing.
Ignoring the violent quakes that vibrated through him, he pressed his lips to hers and blew deeply into her mouth. He lifted, pressed his hands against her chest and pumped. When she still didn’t stir, he pressed my lips to hers again, blew. Finally, a cough erupted from her and water spurted from her lungs. He quickly turned her onto her stomach so the water would spill out onto the floor and not go back down her throat.
For a moment or so, she just coughed and hacked, and then he realized she was crying. Hysterically crying, loudly and uncontrollably. Her shoulders heaved and she gasped for air through intense wails. He laid beside her, stroking her stringy, wet mane, unsure of what else to do, what else to say.
He was cold, so painfully cold, He just wanted to get back to his car, into warmth. “Are y-you ok-kay?” he stammered. She didn’t reply, just kept sobbing. “We n-need to get s-someplace warm,” he told her.
Finally she raised her eyes to his and a small gasp escaped my throat. They were heavy with sorrow, grief, yet sparkled so beautifully behind her tears. “You’re b-blue,” she murmured.
He nodded. “We need to get someplace warm,” he repeated.
He strained to get to his feet before pulling her to hers. She fell weakly against him and he held her firmly to his side as they made their way through the woods and back up to the bridge. His coat still laid on the wooden planks and he wrapped it around her. “A-are you o-okay?” he asked.
She nodded but he could hear the clicking of her teeth, he could feel the powerful shivers course through her. “C’mon, get in,” he instructed, helping her into the back seat of his car. Once he laid her down, he reached into the front and turned the heat on full blast.
The girl was out of it, eyes fluttering open and closed. Her body shook, she moaned. Abel leaned over her and began to take off her clothes.
Christian’s eyes snapped open. “W-what are you doing?” she demanded, pushing his hands off of the buttons of her shirt.
“Relax, I have to get you out of these wet clothes,” he said, moving her hands out of his way.
“No!” she cried.
He brought his eyes to hers. “You think I’m gonna hurt you? Christ, I just jumped in the water to save you.” She didn’t reply but the cynicism didn’t leave her eyes. Abel sighed, softened his voice. “Look, your wet clothes are bringing your body temperature down even more. They need to come off.”
Finally Christian relaxed, dropped her hands and watched as the boy continued to undress her. She’d never had a boy undress her, not even Elle. She watched him intently as he struggled with her belt buckle. At least he was handsome. Unnervingly so.
His pale brown hair, almost blonde, laid limp and dripping on his forehead. Drops of water trailed down his chalky-white face, over his thick brow and green eyes, low and intense over dark shadows. His lips were blue and trembling and Christian noticed the bottom one was a bit fuller then the top. Before she knew what she was doing, her fingers were at his chin, her thumb caressing his lip.
She pulled back when his eyes shot up to hers again, his brows furrowed, his strong jaw tense. His features were so perfect, so symmetrical, they could have been chiseled on by Michelangelo himself. “I’m going to take off your pants now, okay?”
Christian nodded and lifted so the boy can pulled her pants past her behind and down her legs. When they were off, he pulled her into a sitting position and got her coat and shirt off next. Down to just her bra and panties, he grabbed a blanket off of the floor and wrapped it around her. “What ab-bout you?” she asked.
“Don’t worry about me,” he replied. “Just lay back.”
She watched as the boy climbed into the front seat where he began taking off his own clothes. She admired the muscles of his arms and bare back. Who was he? An angel maybe. So pale and so beautiful.
She felt the car lurch forward and shut her eyes as the steady movement lulled her. “Hey!” the boy snapped. “Don’t fall asleep. Umm… What’s your name?”
“Christian,” she murmured. Her throat was dry and ached.
“Christian? What kind of name is Christian for a girl?”
“I’m named after my dad,” she replied. Her eyes fluttered shut again.
“Hey!” he called, reaching back and nudging her. “Open your eyes!” She did so and looked at him. His eyes darted back and forth from her to the road. They sparkled with intensity. “Ah…What are you doing in East Pine? You just moved here, right?”
“My parents…” she said, and then her voice cracked. She could feel that familiar weight pressing down on her again and a sob escaped her throat. “It’s Christmas…”
The boy scoffed. “Yeah. I know,” he said with a bitterness she couldn’t understand. “Hey, don’t cry, alright? We’re almost at the hospital, they’ll call your parents.”
Another loud sob, this one followed by tears. “No…” she moaned. A violent shiver rumbled through her. Damn, it was cold. Her entire body felt numb. Except for the blinding pain she felt on the inside, of course. She only wished that would go numb, if only for a little while.
She turned over onto her side, balled up into fetal position and raised the blanket above her head. Abel could see the outline of her body heaving with every sob that escaped her. What was her deal? He didn’t say another word to her, her wailing was sign enough at she was awake. When they finally reached the hospital, he pulled his wet clothes back on before turning his attention to the girl.
Making sure she was wrapping up tightly, he took her into his arms and carried her into the emergency room. He tried hard to keep his gaze ahead of him, but his eyes kept finding her. With every glance she became more beautiful. Pale and wet, swollen and boogery, yet still so beautiful.
Inside the emergency room, a nurse rushed to Abel. “What happened to her?” she demanded, leading him back toward a stretcher.
“She fell in the river,” he replied, laying her down on the white bed. The nurse pushed back the blanket and Abel gasped. Hadn’t he noticed her body before? Shit, how did it miss it? He quickly looked away, sure that was the right thing to do.
“You jumped in after her?” Abel nodded. “You’ll need to be admitted, too.”
He frowned. “No, I’m fine—”
“You’re blue, sir,” the nurse replied. That was the same thing Christian had said.
“I’m fine,” he repeated.
“You’ll need to be admitted. If you’ll go to the front desk and fill out some forms, we’ll see you in just a moment.”
Before he could reply, the nurse and Christian disappeared through a pair of double doors. As she’d instructed, Abel went to the front desk and filled out a form, only it was for Christian. Of course he didn’t know much, her first name but not her last, her address but not her phone number, but he figured at least they would be able to contact her family. Leaving her clothes with her forms, Abel left the emergency room.
You need to log in to urbis or create an urbis account to review this writing.
Reviews
Sort Reviews by Newest | Oldest | Highest Quality | Lowest Quality | Newest Comments |
This 103 word review has not been unlocked.
I liked this story, it’s a good start. It seems to flow well. I assume the girl is a teenager, it’s not clear how old she is. The same for the boy we don’t know his age. It’s not clear why he follows her into the woods, he wants to get away true, but he just saw a girl go that way. Although the story tells us that the girl goes down a trail, I assume that the girl is following a dirt road. That is the same road that the car also takes. The boy is still in the car when he reaches the girl, why didn’t she hear him drive up. Did he get out of the car as soon as she jumped. After he rescues the girl why doesn’t he take her to her home. It would seem to be closer. Did she not want to be taken there? She could express that. Although you may explain in later chapters why the girl blames herself for the accident in which her parents died, the reader is still left hanging in the first chapter.
- add/view comments (0)
Overall as a first chapter it does work, you’ve introduced your main characters and we know enough about them to care. I don’t think we needed a synopsis, it took the mystery away, we already know what was going to occur. It didn’t put me off, but it meant I had that in my head while I was reading. I would have much preferred to read the piece without it.
I didn’t find it boring per se, but I do wonder where the story can go. This type of scenario has been used so many times before, I think you would need to have something spectacular for it to be at all different. Already I can visualise the problems and stresses they will face, for me it just doesn’t feel original.
Along with the title, the plot felt slightly cliched. Although it was clear and believable I have to say the only thing I found interesting was what he saw on her body at the hospital. Everything else: the alcoholic father, the stoned girlfriend, the dead parents and moving to a new town had the air of a story I had already heard.
On the plus, you do write really well.
I like the idea of the interracial relationship, and, despite their obvious differences, they share many things in common. It forces me to read more about what some of those common things are and how the story will turn out. Will they marry? for example.
But, as of now, I don’t see this as a novel, but the makings of a good short story.
A few criticisms:
You say, “Finally, a cough erupted from her and water spurted from her lungs. He quickly turned her onto her stomach so the water would spill out onto the floor and not go back down her throat.”
Maybe describe this in on-your-seat-detail, not what happens if one is not flipped over after throwing up water. Most people already know that. Make it more exciting, make the reader sense that the girl might die. Maybe you can end the story with her death.
Avoid words and phrases like these: “So pale and so beautiful.” Give descriptions that are rarely used, a clever metaphor, for example, but of course, avoid cliches.
Finally, I suggest you use rapid bursts of descriptions surrounded by a fast pass dialogue. Instead of “For a moment or so, she just coughed and hacked, and then he realized she was crying,” try “She hacked, coughed, whipped her nose. Feeling sympathy, he put his arm around her. She began to cry.” Then begin a dialogue.
Hope this helps. Maybe you can read one of mine.
Besides severeal spelling errors and words that were used in error, this was a good read. It kept me interested and I’m really curious now as to what was wrong with her body. What did Abel miss?
I’d go back and read this…...outloud…...word for word so that you can catch the mistakes that I saw.
The start of something good. I could have used some more information, such as, why Christian would feel that a car accident was her fault. There was also a lack of urgency, the story was very slow paced and nothing felt important or necessary. I also would have liked an idea of how old Christian is. She was obviously young enough to be in the custody of Aunt Lyn, but I got then sense that she was 13 or 14 where I felt Abel was 16 or 17. Not knowing Christian’s approximate age made the scene in the car with Abel undressing her, a little uncomfortable. Overall, this story seems like the beginning to something better. Not bad, but could be improved.
I wanted to point out a few grammatical errors for you first
Before Christian could reply, Lyn took notice to the Christmas tree A better way to write this sentence: ”Lyn noticed the Christmas tree…”
Christms Evening? More correct and traditional would be “Christms Eve”
When you talk about his car going down a trail, you should probably use the term “dirt road” instead. Cars don’t generally fit onto trails. I’ve driven down lots of dirt roads to secret places
I found one place where you switched from third person to first person by mistake, but I couldn’t find it again.
You did an effective job of telling this story. The charcters were believable, sympthetic, and we cared about what happened to them. The way they meet is little dramatic but that’s the set up of the story and it makes for nice drama.
I thought the last sentence was kind of weak, and wonder why Abel leaves the emergency room—where does he have to go. I’d re-work the ending and make it stronger.
Showing 1 - 7 of 7
Review item
Add to faves
