Newest Novel Attempt

As much as I love sharing my thoughts with all you lovelies, I feel as though I have been neglecting my other blog categories these past few months (year?). Therefore, I thought I would share my latest attempt at a novel. As they all do, this one has started off really well, as I have been managing to keep the writer’s block at bay so far.

This one was inspired by a very personal situation I went through this summer. My uncle was kept in a medically induced coma following a horrific car accident, in which he was severely injured and burned. During his month long stay in the hospital, we always wondered whether or not he could hear us talking to him. We never found out, because we unfortunately lost him before he was ever waken up.

This story is from the point of view of a nineteen year old girl in a coma. She has no memory of how she ended up in this state. She cannot move nor speak, however she can hear and feel (not pain of course). Her memories are hazy, and she often finds herself slammed with memories when she realizes who a person in the room is. Here’s a small exert from what I have written so far:

It dawns on me for the first time to wonder where the hell I am, and why I can’t make my body cooperate. I try to open my eyes again, but still no luck. I am left alone in the darkness of my own mind, and I can’t escape. I hear beeping all around me. I must be in a hospital. I think, putting the puzzle together. But how the hell did I get here? I try to think back to before the dark, but all I remember is the fierce sting of pain.

I start to panic. How am I going to get out of here if I can’t move? I can’t even open my eyes or call for help. Why can’t I move?

“You can see her now,” I hear the woman’s voice again, but it sounds far away. I wish I could reach out and grab it. I wish I could let her know that I hear her. I hear the sound of someone shuffling slowly into the room.

“Presley?” I hear a quiet voice, barely above a whisper. It sounds unsure and is dripping with fear. It sounds familiar, but the owner of the voice is just out of reach in my mind. “Oh, Presley,” the voice sighs with remorse. “What happened to you?” I could ask the same thing. I feel warm skin on my hand. “Your hand is like ice,” the voice says right before I feel warm breath on my hand. Who the hell is this woman and why is she blowing on me? I want to yank my hand away and demand to know who the hell she thinks she is, but I am powerless in this broken body, so she keeps on blowing.

She leans forward to plant a sloppy kiss on my cheek. Some water drops onto my face, and I assume this strange woman is crying. As she pulls back, I the smell of vanilla mixed with sandalwood assaults my nose. Suddenly, the black disappears, and my mind is reeling with memories. A woman with honey blonde hair and a warm smile pulling me into her arms. The same woman kissing a scrape on my knee as I sit on a sidewalk. The woman singing to me softly while I drifted off to sleep. Her voice rolling over me in waves of calm as she sang ‘Take my hand. Take my whole life too. For I can’t help falling in love with you.’ I know that smell. I know that voice. I know whose smile that is.

I still have a long way to go on this one, but it’s an exciting start! Nothing is better than the thrill of hatching a new story idea, and beginning to put that story into words. I sincerely hope I am able to keep up the progress and finish this one.

 

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