FROM ANGELA
Is this beginning too dark for Young Adult? Contains violence,
i suppose rain is fitting for this moment. Standing above a grave wouldn’t feel quite right without rain. It helps wash off the blood, too.
My shoulder throbs where the knife sliced through nerve and muscle. If I press a hand to it, blood dribbles through my fingers and mingles with the rain. It’s become a game now: how long can I press on it before my vision starts to go dark?
I’m starting to like it. It’s like scratching an itch - pain and relief at the same time. If my shoulder goes numb, there’s always the gash in my stomach...
Right, back to the grave. I think seriously about letting the rain fill it with mud, letting her face drown in earth. Nah. I’ll do it right. After all, she lived off of tradition. She’d appreciate this.
As my hands dig into the soft, rich, earth, I begin to sing.
“Happy Birthday...”
Chapter 1
I wake with a start. I can’t believe I fell asleep. The plan had been to stay up all night, but I must have drifted off. I wanted to begin today by watching the sun rise, but it’s up now. Today. Freedom Day. My sixteenth birthday.
I slide from the wooden board I am forced to call a bed and yank on my boots. As I reach the downstairs living area, I am greeted by sudden silence. Several pairs of brown eyes watch as I grab a plate of food and sit down at an empty table. A rock comes out of the crowd, narrowly missing my head. I smile. They’re jealous I’m free. The eggs are blander than usual, but I don’t care. I eat quickly, eager to get out from under the stares of my fellow orphans and into the honey-colored fields encompassing most of Caram. I itch to get away from this place, have since I arrived when I was ten.
I look at myself in one of few mirrors in the Romarin Orphanage, pulling back my black curls into a tight braid. The black eye I got the other day is healing and doesn't hurt anymore. Funny, when I first arrived in Caram, none of the kids would touch me. I was too clean, too well-behaved, too other for them. I smelled weird, they said. They didn't want my stench to rub off on them. But as I grew, taunts turned into throwing things, and, more recently, throwing things turned into throwing punches.
Orphans don’t have the benefit of parents teaching them the spice trade. Most of them, when they turn sixteen, will become traveling traders. I’m lucky. By the time I got to Caram, I already knew how to learn. I asked the spice merchants questions, endearing myself to them and ensuring a place amongst them when I got older.
I pause before leaving, staring at the features that got me expelled from my home, from my family. I can never stand to look at myself for long; the hatred sets in and I have to turn away.
From the day I was born, I was cursed. My hair started off golden and straight, to be sure, but rapidly fell into black curls. My mustard yellow eyes turned a deep obsidian. My skin, at least, stayed a pale ivory. My parents, both with clear honeyed eyes and silvery ginger hair, immediately took me to a healer. She proclaimed me cursed, a dark spirit that must be cast out of the Crescent before I incited its destruction. Thinking about it now, she was probably being a bit overdramatic. I mean, how could a baby destroy an entire society? I was not the first unnatural baby to be born in the Crescent I learned later, but I was the first to be successfully hidden within Aurea. My parents loved me despite my curse. But they couldn't keep me, at least not publicly. Not according to Crescent law.
Every child in Aurea learns from an early age the story of Agaitha. Back before the Crescent formed, nature ruled the world. Poisonous plants crept through forests as fast as the animals that lived there. Beasts roamed salted oceans and giant flying creatures prowled the air. It was a dangerous place, without the wisdom and safety our Elder now provide.
A small fishing village in a region called the Comb woke up one morning to find something more than fish caught in their nets. In water, she was magnificent - a flash of silky green that blended into the weeds so well, the men who found her almost hacked her to pieces. When she opened her eyes, though, they saw the beauty of the entire ocean in them and were spellbound. They brought her ashore, where her features became more human. Her hair, out of the reflection of the water, turned a green so dark it was almost black. She told them her name was Agaitha.
The villagers, in their folly, asked her to stay in the village and be their guest. They feasted for five days and nights on spicy baked shellfish, trout smothered in butter and thyme, soft and salty bread, and creamy soups with chunks of vegetables and mollusks. They drank spirits distilled from grain, aged in wood, and mixed with molasses. On the sixth day, the town woke to find Agaitha gone and a boy dead. Someone remembered seeing the boy, Bron, heading into a room with her. The rumor is that he got too friendly and she got angry. That night, a storm started to brew. It turned vicious, drowning most of the townspeople and destroying the town. Agaitha was seen, standing naked on a rock, screaming into the storm, her eyes the blackest black. One woman, Navine, was unaffected by the storm. She claimed it was because of a talisman she made to repel evil. She wore it around her neck and it protected her. The symbol etched upon the talisman was a golden butterfly.
CRITIQUE
It's not dark, no problem there.
The problem is that there is no story. Just when a story gets started, you jerk it away from the reader. First, the grave scene - looks interesting, but oops...forget that, let's talk about breakfast at an orphanage, and...no wait, let's talk about when the MC first came to the orphanage, and...no, hold on, let's talk about when the MC was first born, now there's a story...no, no, forget that, let me tell you about Agaitha.
Can you make up our minds, please? lol. Starting and ending five stories in 1000 words is just a tad schizophrenic, don't you think?