Rebecca Nolan's Blog - Posts Tagged "love"
YA Fiction i have been working on for a while.
“I have some news that I think you should sit down for.” The Doctor said to us, tears welled in my eyes.
“The last time I was told to sit down, I was told that my grandmother had been attacked and was in the hospital…so as you can imagine I don’t want to sit down. I want to know if she will be alright. I want to know when we can go home. That is what I want. Not to sit back down. I am over sitting down.” I glowered at him, fed up with everything.
“Very well then” he answered. “Your Grandmamma is brain dead.” He said it as if we should have been expecting the news. “The damage to her brain was just too substantial. Even after we went in to release the pressure, there was no change, if anything she is worse.”
“You must be mistaken…… My Grandmamma is not brain dead, I would know if she were.” I yelled the words not caring who heard.
“I am sorry Miss, I really am, but now is the time to gather your family and say good-bye.” The doctor’s voice was so disconnected, that it infuriated me. Couldn’t he see that he was wrong?
“You are wrong. She will be fine, you’ll see.”
The doctor looked at me, those large eyes filled with pity as he shook his head.
“Lilli. Sweetie.” Stewart whispered almost choking on the words as he fought back his own pain. I could sense that he was giving up on her because of what the doctor had told us. Anger built up inside of me, he didn’t know how strong she was.
“No.” I declared. “He is wrong Stewart. She isn’t brain dead.” pointing my finger at the doctor. Jude joined us, placing a hand around my waist to draw me closer to him, but I pushed him away, I was too angry to be comforted.
“Find me another doctor……Now.” I screamed. All three of them took a step back from me like I would explode. “I want another doctor. One who knows what they are doing.”
“Miss, you can ask as many doctors as you like but they will agree with me. Your Grandmother is no longer responsive and without the assistance of these machines she would be completely dead.”
“The last time I was told to sit down, I was told that my grandmother had been attacked and was in the hospital…so as you can imagine I don’t want to sit down. I want to know if she will be alright. I want to know when we can go home. That is what I want. Not to sit back down. I am over sitting down.” I glowered at him, fed up with everything.
“Very well then” he answered. “Your Grandmamma is brain dead.” He said it as if we should have been expecting the news. “The damage to her brain was just too substantial. Even after we went in to release the pressure, there was no change, if anything she is worse.”
“You must be mistaken…… My Grandmamma is not brain dead, I would know if she were.” I yelled the words not caring who heard.
“I am sorry Miss, I really am, but now is the time to gather your family and say good-bye.” The doctor’s voice was so disconnected, that it infuriated me. Couldn’t he see that he was wrong?
“You are wrong. She will be fine, you’ll see.”
The doctor looked at me, those large eyes filled with pity as he shook his head.
“Lilli. Sweetie.” Stewart whispered almost choking on the words as he fought back his own pain. I could sense that he was giving up on her because of what the doctor had told us. Anger built up inside of me, he didn’t know how strong she was.
“No.” I declared. “He is wrong Stewart. She isn’t brain dead.” pointing my finger at the doctor. Jude joined us, placing a hand around my waist to draw me closer to him, but I pushed him away, I was too angry to be comforted.
“Find me another doctor……Now.” I screamed. All three of them took a step back from me like I would explode. “I want another doctor. One who knows what they are doing.”
“Miss, you can ask as many doctors as you like but they will agree with me. Your Grandmother is no longer responsive and without the assistance of these machines she would be completely dead.”
writing what you know can be hard!
Why is it that the one thing I understand best is the one thing that is so hard to write. Locked up emotions are hard to unleash. Yet, here i am unleashing them and hoping that it won't come back and bite me.
first of all i wish to point out that even though my life has been far from perfect I wouldn't change any of it at all. For today I can sit here and say I am one lucky girl. My life is great!
But it has not always been that way. Only eleven years ago I was a girl in a lot of trouble, I had a boyfriend who even though i had thought of him being my prince turned out to be the villian. Now it isnt like he is a bad person in fact since we have been away from one another we both have very healthy relationships with our partners, but when we are together it is like some kind of liquid explosive. When together we destory one another. Now i am going to be writing a FICTION story based around that. Fingers crossed that it all works into one great story!
first of all i wish to point out that even though my life has been far from perfect I wouldn't change any of it at all. For today I can sit here and say I am one lucky girl. My life is great!
But it has not always been that way. Only eleven years ago I was a girl in a lot of trouble, I had a boyfriend who even though i had thought of him being my prince turned out to be the villian. Now it isnt like he is a bad person in fact since we have been away from one another we both have very healthy relationships with our partners, but when we are together it is like some kind of liquid explosive. When together we destory one another. Now i am going to be writing a FICTION story based around that. Fingers crossed that it all works into one great story!
next project is daring....
I am not a person who lives to be in the spotlight, as a matter of fact that is something I rather try to avoid. I know that being an Author means you have to get out there, so i try. I dont push people to follow me or spam their sites with endless buy my book links. I dont push people into advertising me or promoting me because I truly hope that my skills as a Writer will win them over...am I naive? maybe.
Up until now I have stayed away from anything that could be controversial. I guess i wanted to play it safe but that is not the way my writing style works. I want to write about dark things, I dont want to shy away becuase I am afraid of the backlash. bad things in this world happen, I wish they didnt but they do. So why am i bring this up...well I am about to write some stuff that might not sit well with everyone.
Let me make it clear what I write about doesnt mean I support that behaviour. If I write about a killer doesnt mean I htink people should kill, rape doesnt mean I think it shoudl happen etc. Right now I am workign on a piece about an abuseive relationship. The main girl charater is torn between knowing she should leave and wanting to stay with the man she fell in love with. There are intense scenes which (i hope) make people wonder what is goin on in this girls head. Violence against women is never ok! but it isnt all as black and white. You cant just stop loving someone because they have hurt you.
Here are some sample scenes---
I opened my eyes. “I am sorry.” I said almost robotically. Any tone was to roll the dice of danger. There was a sharp sting to the side of my face as his palm smashed into it. I hurry to put a little clothing on as Carter paces the room. He reminds me of a tiger that has been caged for too long. Back and forth he moves as I dress, his hand running though his hair in frustration.
“You’re sorry. Sorry for what? Sorry for being stupid? Sorry for making me lose my temper? ... What is it you’re sorry for Ivy?” he demanded in a rage. No answer would be the right one. I already had learnt that so I went for the safest option, still fighting back tears.
“I am sorry… I make you hurt me.” I whisper not wanting to anger Carter further.
My mind making that mental leap so that now my body responded to his. I hated when my body betrayed me like this. His words ringing in my ears…did some part of me really like when he lashed out at me like this? I thought about it as one hand lifted my leg so it was hooked around his waist. The pressure was still firm around my throat but no longer was it life threatening. I could breathe and kiss him back just fine. Carter’s fingers brushed over the cotton fabric of my panties making me groan. Good God, was I sick and perverted? I shouldn’t be thinking of sex! What was wrong with me?
Carter kissed the bruises he had put there caringly, taking his time to savor me. Taking off my clothing as if I were once more a gift in his eyes. I wanted to lose myself in his tenderness. This was the man I had fallen in love with. He loved me; sometimes he loved me so much it hurt. And while he was making love I realized that love didn’t matter if I were dead.
These are just a few scenes as you can see, they might not be to everyones liking. The story line I promise will be good but there is going to be violence. There might even be a moment or two where you stop and think. It might anger you or make you sad. My goal is to give myself a chance at writing what i want to write. I have toned down stuff because I was scared. I dont want to do that anymore. Writing is an adventure, something I am passionate about and something I wish to do for a living. I really hope this story does well but if not atleast I have something where I can say..."wow I put 110% of myself into that."
Here is the story line for those of you who might be interested :)
Ivy needs to escape her boyfriend, Carter, but she doesnt know he is a werewolf and is having problems with control now that his genetics are kicking in. Ivy meets a doctor who is also a hunter and he convinces her to join him. Little does Ivy know this is a ploy as the doctor casts a spell which turns Ivy into a siren. Now men are crazy for her and she sturggles to find a normal relationship. Carter finds her with every intent to kill her for being unfaithful but she kills him. The doctor abandons Ivy and she is left to fend for herself which isnt easy because of Ivys past...she is attracted to evil, mean, paranormal guys. Now Ivy believes that the only way to make something good out of her life is to kill the men she finds herself attracted to.
Up until now I have stayed away from anything that could be controversial. I guess i wanted to play it safe but that is not the way my writing style works. I want to write about dark things, I dont want to shy away becuase I am afraid of the backlash. bad things in this world happen, I wish they didnt but they do. So why am i bring this up...well I am about to write some stuff that might not sit well with everyone.
Let me make it clear what I write about doesnt mean I support that behaviour. If I write about a killer doesnt mean I htink people should kill, rape doesnt mean I think it shoudl happen etc. Right now I am workign on a piece about an abuseive relationship. The main girl charater is torn between knowing she should leave and wanting to stay with the man she fell in love with. There are intense scenes which (i hope) make people wonder what is goin on in this girls head. Violence against women is never ok! but it isnt all as black and white. You cant just stop loving someone because they have hurt you.
Here are some sample scenes---
I opened my eyes. “I am sorry.” I said almost robotically. Any tone was to roll the dice of danger. There was a sharp sting to the side of my face as his palm smashed into it. I hurry to put a little clothing on as Carter paces the room. He reminds me of a tiger that has been caged for too long. Back and forth he moves as I dress, his hand running though his hair in frustration.
“You’re sorry. Sorry for what? Sorry for being stupid? Sorry for making me lose my temper? ... What is it you’re sorry for Ivy?” he demanded in a rage. No answer would be the right one. I already had learnt that so I went for the safest option, still fighting back tears.
“I am sorry… I make you hurt me.” I whisper not wanting to anger Carter further.
My mind making that mental leap so that now my body responded to his. I hated when my body betrayed me like this. His words ringing in my ears…did some part of me really like when he lashed out at me like this? I thought about it as one hand lifted my leg so it was hooked around his waist. The pressure was still firm around my throat but no longer was it life threatening. I could breathe and kiss him back just fine. Carter’s fingers brushed over the cotton fabric of my panties making me groan. Good God, was I sick and perverted? I shouldn’t be thinking of sex! What was wrong with me?
Carter kissed the bruises he had put there caringly, taking his time to savor me. Taking off my clothing as if I were once more a gift in his eyes. I wanted to lose myself in his tenderness. This was the man I had fallen in love with. He loved me; sometimes he loved me so much it hurt. And while he was making love I realized that love didn’t matter if I were dead.
These are just a few scenes as you can see, they might not be to everyones liking. The story line I promise will be good but there is going to be violence. There might even be a moment or two where you stop and think. It might anger you or make you sad. My goal is to give myself a chance at writing what i want to write. I have toned down stuff because I was scared. I dont want to do that anymore. Writing is an adventure, something I am passionate about and something I wish to do for a living. I really hope this story does well but if not atleast I have something where I can say..."wow I put 110% of myself into that."
Here is the story line for those of you who might be interested :)
Ivy needs to escape her boyfriend, Carter, but she doesnt know he is a werewolf and is having problems with control now that his genetics are kicking in. Ivy meets a doctor who is also a hunter and he convinces her to join him. Little does Ivy know this is a ploy as the doctor casts a spell which turns Ivy into a siren. Now men are crazy for her and she sturggles to find a normal relationship. Carter finds her with every intent to kill her for being unfaithful but she kills him. The doctor abandons Ivy and she is left to fend for herself which isnt easy because of Ivys past...she is attracted to evil, mean, paranormal guys. Now Ivy believes that the only way to make something good out of her life is to kill the men she finds herself attracted to.
Young love...the good, the bad and the ugly
Writing for me is about taking a little bit of something that has affected me and then turning it into a (hopeful) masterpiece. Sometimes it can be a piece of dialogue or a feeling, maybe even a memory. Writing has become almost like therapy in a way. I have found the harder the issue or the more hurt I was then the better the writing is. There is little that can compare to what it is like for me.
My life has been one big adventure; a constant source of things to use in my writing which makes me thankful. Recently I have been attacking my teenage years...I know, those years are always full of inspiration lol. For me it was a time of falling in love, losing myself in that love, breaking free and finished with me getting married. Sounds like how most teens see their lives turning out doesn't it. If my teens had been on TV it would have been a cross between teen mum, Dr Phil, cops, the hills special ha-ha.
There is little that can compare to the intensity of love someone may happen to deal with when they are in their teens. You see a boy or girl and suddenly nothing else matters, not your family, not your schooling...nothing. That is how it had started for me. At 14 I thought I had found the guy I would marry...crazy right?
Well back then it didn't feel so crazy. Instead I was consumed by the love I felt. I would do anything for that boy and him vice versa, to a point. I ignored friends who warned me about his cheating, I didn't think twice about having sex with him or moving in together. He felt more valuable to me then the air I breathed. Sure we broke-up, with all the drama that teens go through and then we would make up and turn against those who had been there to tell us our relationship wasn't healthy.
We were together right up until I was eighteen...4 yrs.
He was a track star and was meant to take me overseas with him, I was pretty and very naive. Right up until we turn 16 our lives could have been OK, but at 16 we began to destroy them and each other. The rumors of his cheating forcing me to want to hold onto him so that he would never leave me. I felt as though I had to live with him, to make sure he knew I was the only girl for him, instead of running away like a normal person would. I felt like I should have to work to keep him. His needs became more important than my own. I gave up a private education, I gave up family, friends, my body... In essence I began to loss myself.
We moved in together and then the issues that had always been there began to intensify. Domestic violence doesn't start when a guy finally loses it and hits you. It starts from the moment you allow him to have control. It starts from the moment you allow a person to decide what you should wear and who you should see. It starts from the moment you allow him to make you feel bad about yourself. It also doesn't have a real age limit. It can start in your teens. It isn't always physical either, BUT it is never something you should put up with!
I will never forget how I felt. We had a daughter together and I am so thankful we did. It was having her that made me grow up and see how wrong our relationship was. If I hadn't had her at 17 I am not sure I would be here today. It does take a lot of strength to walk out of that type of relationship but if you look...really look, you will find people are there ready to help you. I was so lucky I had good girlfriends who were really there for me. They reminded me that it was not healthy for our daughter to see that kind of violence even though she was only a baby. Kept telling me that I was worth more than to be abused and put down by the person who I thought loved me. They made me focus on what I would want for my daughter, whether or not I would sit by and see her go through this.
Amazingly my life turned around and by sheer luck I found and fell in love with my husband only 7mths after leaving my ex. We have been married for 10 wonderful years. I have given my children the foundation of what real love is meant to look like. We don't need to hide behind closed doors or lie to our friends over bruising. My husband has been with me through thick and thin. He is the flip side to that earlier love.
It is with these memories that I write about love. I write about how it can consume you, how it can be unhealthy for you and how on the flip side it can be the very thing that nurtures you and helps you grow. I want everyone to know what good love feels like and to see the early warning signs of wrong love. Sure, I may not be on any best sellers lists yet but I am still young in my writing career. I have only been writing for 2 years...so I am still hopeful that one of these days I will make it. I know that maybe someday soon I will write some chick lit fiction story based on those memories but right now I am happy using a little here and there to make my stories (hopefully) great :)
Take care guys
xox
Rebecca
My life has been one big adventure; a constant source of things to use in my writing which makes me thankful. Recently I have been attacking my teenage years...I know, those years are always full of inspiration lol. For me it was a time of falling in love, losing myself in that love, breaking free and finished with me getting married. Sounds like how most teens see their lives turning out doesn't it. If my teens had been on TV it would have been a cross between teen mum, Dr Phil, cops, the hills special ha-ha.
There is little that can compare to the intensity of love someone may happen to deal with when they are in their teens. You see a boy or girl and suddenly nothing else matters, not your family, not your schooling...nothing. That is how it had started for me. At 14 I thought I had found the guy I would marry...crazy right?
Well back then it didn't feel so crazy. Instead I was consumed by the love I felt. I would do anything for that boy and him vice versa, to a point. I ignored friends who warned me about his cheating, I didn't think twice about having sex with him or moving in together. He felt more valuable to me then the air I breathed. Sure we broke-up, with all the drama that teens go through and then we would make up and turn against those who had been there to tell us our relationship wasn't healthy.
We were together right up until I was eighteen...4 yrs.
He was a track star and was meant to take me overseas with him, I was pretty and very naive. Right up until we turn 16 our lives could have been OK, but at 16 we began to destroy them and each other. The rumors of his cheating forcing me to want to hold onto him so that he would never leave me. I felt as though I had to live with him, to make sure he knew I was the only girl for him, instead of running away like a normal person would. I felt like I should have to work to keep him. His needs became more important than my own. I gave up a private education, I gave up family, friends, my body... In essence I began to loss myself.
We moved in together and then the issues that had always been there began to intensify. Domestic violence doesn't start when a guy finally loses it and hits you. It starts from the moment you allow him to have control. It starts from the moment you allow a person to decide what you should wear and who you should see. It starts from the moment you allow him to make you feel bad about yourself. It also doesn't have a real age limit. It can start in your teens. It isn't always physical either, BUT it is never something you should put up with!
I will never forget how I felt. We had a daughter together and I am so thankful we did. It was having her that made me grow up and see how wrong our relationship was. If I hadn't had her at 17 I am not sure I would be here today. It does take a lot of strength to walk out of that type of relationship but if you look...really look, you will find people are there ready to help you. I was so lucky I had good girlfriends who were really there for me. They reminded me that it was not healthy for our daughter to see that kind of violence even though she was only a baby. Kept telling me that I was worth more than to be abused and put down by the person who I thought loved me. They made me focus on what I would want for my daughter, whether or not I would sit by and see her go through this.
Amazingly my life turned around and by sheer luck I found and fell in love with my husband only 7mths after leaving my ex. We have been married for 10 wonderful years. I have given my children the foundation of what real love is meant to look like. We don't need to hide behind closed doors or lie to our friends over bruising. My husband has been with me through thick and thin. He is the flip side to that earlier love.
It is with these memories that I write about love. I write about how it can consume you, how it can be unhealthy for you and how on the flip side it can be the very thing that nurtures you and helps you grow. I want everyone to know what good love feels like and to see the early warning signs of wrong love. Sure, I may not be on any best sellers lists yet but I am still young in my writing career. I have only been writing for 2 years...so I am still hopeful that one of these days I will make it. I know that maybe someday soon I will write some chick lit fiction story based on those memories but right now I am happy using a little here and there to make my stories (hopefully) great :)
Take care guys
xox
Rebecca
Blood Lilly book 2 in the Lilly Vale saga
Book cover is being worked on as is a release date so i will keep you all posted!
Lilly Vale thought her life couldn't get any more complicated then it already was...but she was wrong. Blood will spill as father goes against daughter in the effort to control the world. Who can Lilly trust when it's not only her life at stake!
http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/18...
Here is a Character Interview with Lilly Vale!
Name: Lilly Vale
Age:19
Likes: motorbikes, greasy food, music, guys who are bad for me,
Dislikes: drinking, lies, snakes, dreaming.
Where can I find you on a Sunday morning? Used to be anyway Cayn was but now you would find me meditating and working out.
What are your pet peeves? Lying and guys who want to use me.
Where can we find you every day of the week? Oh well why not grab a copy of Death Lilly http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/15...
Kindle is on sale $0.99 http://www.amazon.com/Death-Lilly-ebo...
And then don’t forget to add Blood Lilly to your to be read pile http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/18...
Love interest: Wow where to start…well there is Cayn, Levi and my best friend Jude not to mention a new guy in Blood Lilly.
Where do you see yourself in five years? Just hoping to be alive.
Lilly Vale thought her life couldn't get any more complicated then it already was...but she was wrong. Blood will spill as father goes against daughter in the effort to control the world. Who can Lilly trust when it's not only her life at stake!
http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/18...
Here is a Character Interview with Lilly Vale!
Name: Lilly Vale
Age:19
Likes: motorbikes, greasy food, music, guys who are bad for me,
Dislikes: drinking, lies, snakes, dreaming.
Where can I find you on a Sunday morning? Used to be anyway Cayn was but now you would find me meditating and working out.
What are your pet peeves? Lying and guys who want to use me.
Where can we find you every day of the week? Oh well why not grab a copy of Death Lilly http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/15...
Kindle is on sale $0.99 http://www.amazon.com/Death-Lilly-ebo...
And then don’t forget to add Blood Lilly to your to be read pile http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/18...
Love interest: Wow where to start…well there is Cayn, Levi and my best friend Jude not to mention a new guy in Blood Lilly.
Where do you see yourself in five years? Just hoping to be alive.
New project Romance genre
“Sarah I want you home early so we can trim the tree.” My mother called out to me as I walked to my car bound for the mall. The wind whistled though the trees as it nipped my nose making me pull my coat a little tighter. Everything was white, the roofs on houses, the trees, and the ground…all of it was white and beautiful. I loved this time of year; Christmas carols played in every mall, decorations lined the streets and everyone seemed to be in good spirits. It was a great time of year, I thought as I moved from store to store. There were only ten more days until Christmas and three days until I’d have to deal with the influx of family that gathered at my parents’ home. It was annoying that at twenty five I still lived at home but in this economy moving out on my wage, with my student loans, was not an option, I thought as I searched for a parking spot.
Even though I complained about it, I couldn’t wait to see family again. I could picture every present for all my aunts and uncles and grandparents. We didn’t have a huge family, but every Christmas we liked to gather at someone’s place and reconnect. It wasn’t the worst tradition and if I liquored up grandpa enough it would mean a nice little cash bonus under the tree for me. Sure, I felt bad but when he saw the new plaid sweater vest I got him, all would be forgiven. This year was my nephew’s first Christmas. He was six months old and a little cherub with curly blond hair and big rosy cheeks. Jason was the light of our family’s life, being that he was not only my first nephew but he was also the first grandchild and great grandchild, on both sides of the family. We were all looking forward to watching him tear up the paper on Christmas morning. I had no problem spending up big on my little nephew just to see that smile upon his face. I mightn’t have bucket loads of money but had enough to make sure he would be well spoilt over the holiday season.
The sound of a school choir caroling, chimed in my ears as I sipped hot coco before nibbling on a Christmas cookie. There were only a few more shops to hit until I was done gift shopping but I was already tired and my feet were aching with protest. There was still time, I mused. Tomorrow was a half day at work, surely I could come back then to pick up the last few things I wanted. I loved the atmosphere at this time of year; it was amazing to be around. Families coming together, strangers helping each other… it was a time when miracles happened.
I smiled at guy dress in a Santa suit as he passed by accidently knocking me with his elbow. “Merry Christmas.” I called out in my cheery holiday voice. The Santa look alike glared at me, his eyes filled with anger. Instinctively I took a step back, dropping the cookie that was in my hand.
“A Merry Christmas to you to.” He spoke with a strained tone. I couldn’t help but wonder why this Santa seemed so aggravated, it was Christmas after all. He must’ve picked up on my feeling as he flashed me a weak smile before flinging his Santa sack over his shoulder and disappearing into the crowd. I shrugged, not wanting to let it ruin my day. There was just one more shop to hit before I would pack up my credit card for the day. There were some perks to living with my parents after all, I thought with a grin.
My arms were full as I made my way out for the mall; my feet and bank balance both a little worse for wear. Nearly everything on my Christmas list had been bought so I was ready to tackle the next thing on my ‘to do list’…wrapping.
Juggling bags while trying to find my keys, I made my way to the car, humming jingle bells rock softly as I thought about trimming the tree with my mum and sister later tonight. In hindsight I should have been paying attention to the things around me. Maybe I would have done things differently…then again, maybe not. Who knows? But, as I heard the beep of my car’s central locking system activate, a shot rang out. One loud bang followed by another and another.
I didn’t feel anything at first. No searing pain. No ache. Screams echoed all around me. Everything seemed to be moving in fast forward while I was stuck in slow motion, watching as others fled for safety, sheltering themselves behind cars as others rushed into stores… I didn’t understand what was happening. Another shot followed by three more sounded as I glanced to my left. There had been a loud thud followed by several screams before everything had gone very quiet. All I could hear now was the muffled sounds of crying and Christmas carols. It was very unnerving. Suddenly I wondered as to when I had fallen? The presents I had picked out were scattered around me as a surge of panic flooded my veins. Another loud shot rang out, so loud that I wanted to cover my ears. It was at that point in which I realized I must have been hit by a bullet. I glanced around me once more.
An old man had fallen onto his back a few feet across from me, blood slowly pooling from underneath him. I had a thought, that maybe I could help him, I was a nurse after all but as I tried to move my legs they stayed still. Five others were lying on the on the cold, hard ground like me. I was too far away to help the others but the old man was close enough that I if I could get to him maybe I could help in some way. My nursing instincts kicked in and I called out to the man.
“Sir, are you ok?” I asked, the man didn’t respond but I could see that he was still breathing. I moved my arms, laying them out in front of me. My legs might not have been working properly but I was determined to move forward. There was a young man with his finger against his lips telling me to be quiet. I glared at him, the guy was early thirties and hiding behind his Audi, I was outraged. How dare he hide behind a car judging me for helping others? This young guy was far more capable then I and yet he did not offer either me or any of the others a helping hand. The thought to scream at the top of my lungs was far too tempting.
“Why won’t you help him?” I cried out as hushed as I dare be. The guy only two maybe three feet away shook his head. I watched as the old man lying in front of me groaned, his hand dropping to the side. I worried I wouldn’t make it time.
“God, please…someone help him. Can’t you see he will die if we leave him out here!” I pleaded to deaf ears.
“Shut up.” declared a voice, followed by another gunshot though I wasn’t sure where it came from. All I could focus on was the man as the sound of a child crying in the background soon hushed. I prayed that the child was ok and not a victim.
“Matt.” Another soft groan escaped from the poor man’s lips. I was worried about how bad his injuries might be. Every ounce of strength I had left, I used to reach the man.
“Sir…” I struggled to finish what I was saying. I felt cold. Really cold yet my only concern was to help him. I looked around at all the scared faces, hiding where they could. Using my arms I inched myself forward. ‘Oh god’, it hurt so bad that black dots appeared before my eyes…or maybe I was losing too much blood. I hadn’t really checked myself but I knew I was doing ok as long as I stayed awake and coherent. Christmas carols were now being drowned out by sirens. I knew police were on the scene, it was only a matter of time before help would arrive. All I had to do was stay awake until they could reach us.
“Sir, can you hear me?” I asked, trying to keep my tone nice and even.
We were out in the open, easy pickings for the shooter. I knew how this worked, police, medics…none of them would come until it was safe but hopefully that wouldn’t be too long now. Another shot echoed in the distanced as if mocking me. The sound was deafening even over the siren. Still it was hard to tell where the gunman was shooting from. Nothing around me was disturbed and truthfully I didn’t care if the shooter noticed me or not. If I was going to die then I wanted to do it on my own terms. I wanted to die knowing I wasn’t too scared to help a stranger on Christmas. Maybe it was my tenacity which made the shooter ignore me or maybe he was trying to think of an escape plan. I guess I would never know but while whatever was going on; I continued to do what I knew was right.
There was a lot of blood now pooled around him as I tried to see where it was coming from, one wound in his chest and one in his leg. The chest one was only a small entry wound but from the blood pouring out under him I knew the exit wound must be bad. My pulse jumped into my throat as I realized that there was not a lot I could do for him in my condition. Maybe if he had been rushed to hospital, he might have survived but even I had doubts.
In his left hand lay a small velvet box. It was too large for it to be a ring box. I grabbed his hand removing the box. His pulse was weak. A horrid thought entered my mind for I knew he didn’t have long left in this world. Carefully I placed the box in the waistband of my jeans. I didn’t know what was in it but I’d be damned if I’d let someone steal it.
Tilting my head I whispered. “Sir, it’s all right. Everything is going to be fine; I’m here to help you. All you have to do is hold on a little bit longer.”
I wasn’t expecting him to answer but it would have been reassuring. He was so close to death that I figured the best thing I could do was to hold him close and let him know he wasn’t alone. With my head resting beside his shoulder I held his hand and waited, whispering reassuring words. I didn’t feel cold any more instead I felt tired, so, with my hand clasped in the man’s I let myself drift off knowing I might never awaken. Jingle bells rock still playing in my mind as I hummed the tune wondering if I would ever see my family again.
Rebecca Nolan
Even though I complained about it, I couldn’t wait to see family again. I could picture every present for all my aunts and uncles and grandparents. We didn’t have a huge family, but every Christmas we liked to gather at someone’s place and reconnect. It wasn’t the worst tradition and if I liquored up grandpa enough it would mean a nice little cash bonus under the tree for me. Sure, I felt bad but when he saw the new plaid sweater vest I got him, all would be forgiven. This year was my nephew’s first Christmas. He was six months old and a little cherub with curly blond hair and big rosy cheeks. Jason was the light of our family’s life, being that he was not only my first nephew but he was also the first grandchild and great grandchild, on both sides of the family. We were all looking forward to watching him tear up the paper on Christmas morning. I had no problem spending up big on my little nephew just to see that smile upon his face. I mightn’t have bucket loads of money but had enough to make sure he would be well spoilt over the holiday season.
The sound of a school choir caroling, chimed in my ears as I sipped hot coco before nibbling on a Christmas cookie. There were only a few more shops to hit until I was done gift shopping but I was already tired and my feet were aching with protest. There was still time, I mused. Tomorrow was a half day at work, surely I could come back then to pick up the last few things I wanted. I loved the atmosphere at this time of year; it was amazing to be around. Families coming together, strangers helping each other… it was a time when miracles happened.
I smiled at guy dress in a Santa suit as he passed by accidently knocking me with his elbow. “Merry Christmas.” I called out in my cheery holiday voice. The Santa look alike glared at me, his eyes filled with anger. Instinctively I took a step back, dropping the cookie that was in my hand.
“A Merry Christmas to you to.” He spoke with a strained tone. I couldn’t help but wonder why this Santa seemed so aggravated, it was Christmas after all. He must’ve picked up on my feeling as he flashed me a weak smile before flinging his Santa sack over his shoulder and disappearing into the crowd. I shrugged, not wanting to let it ruin my day. There was just one more shop to hit before I would pack up my credit card for the day. There were some perks to living with my parents after all, I thought with a grin.
My arms were full as I made my way out for the mall; my feet and bank balance both a little worse for wear. Nearly everything on my Christmas list had been bought so I was ready to tackle the next thing on my ‘to do list’…wrapping.
Juggling bags while trying to find my keys, I made my way to the car, humming jingle bells rock softly as I thought about trimming the tree with my mum and sister later tonight. In hindsight I should have been paying attention to the things around me. Maybe I would have done things differently…then again, maybe not. Who knows? But, as I heard the beep of my car’s central locking system activate, a shot rang out. One loud bang followed by another and another.
I didn’t feel anything at first. No searing pain. No ache. Screams echoed all around me. Everything seemed to be moving in fast forward while I was stuck in slow motion, watching as others fled for safety, sheltering themselves behind cars as others rushed into stores… I didn’t understand what was happening. Another shot followed by three more sounded as I glanced to my left. There had been a loud thud followed by several screams before everything had gone very quiet. All I could hear now was the muffled sounds of crying and Christmas carols. It was very unnerving. Suddenly I wondered as to when I had fallen? The presents I had picked out were scattered around me as a surge of panic flooded my veins. Another loud shot rang out, so loud that I wanted to cover my ears. It was at that point in which I realized I must have been hit by a bullet. I glanced around me once more.
An old man had fallen onto his back a few feet across from me, blood slowly pooling from underneath him. I had a thought, that maybe I could help him, I was a nurse after all but as I tried to move my legs they stayed still. Five others were lying on the on the cold, hard ground like me. I was too far away to help the others but the old man was close enough that I if I could get to him maybe I could help in some way. My nursing instincts kicked in and I called out to the man.
“Sir, are you ok?” I asked, the man didn’t respond but I could see that he was still breathing. I moved my arms, laying them out in front of me. My legs might not have been working properly but I was determined to move forward. There was a young man with his finger against his lips telling me to be quiet. I glared at him, the guy was early thirties and hiding behind his Audi, I was outraged. How dare he hide behind a car judging me for helping others? This young guy was far more capable then I and yet he did not offer either me or any of the others a helping hand. The thought to scream at the top of my lungs was far too tempting.
“Why won’t you help him?” I cried out as hushed as I dare be. The guy only two maybe three feet away shook his head. I watched as the old man lying in front of me groaned, his hand dropping to the side. I worried I wouldn’t make it time.
“God, please…someone help him. Can’t you see he will die if we leave him out here!” I pleaded to deaf ears.
“Shut up.” declared a voice, followed by another gunshot though I wasn’t sure where it came from. All I could focus on was the man as the sound of a child crying in the background soon hushed. I prayed that the child was ok and not a victim.
“Matt.” Another soft groan escaped from the poor man’s lips. I was worried about how bad his injuries might be. Every ounce of strength I had left, I used to reach the man.
“Sir…” I struggled to finish what I was saying. I felt cold. Really cold yet my only concern was to help him. I looked around at all the scared faces, hiding where they could. Using my arms I inched myself forward. ‘Oh god’, it hurt so bad that black dots appeared before my eyes…or maybe I was losing too much blood. I hadn’t really checked myself but I knew I was doing ok as long as I stayed awake and coherent. Christmas carols were now being drowned out by sirens. I knew police were on the scene, it was only a matter of time before help would arrive. All I had to do was stay awake until they could reach us.
“Sir, can you hear me?” I asked, trying to keep my tone nice and even.
We were out in the open, easy pickings for the shooter. I knew how this worked, police, medics…none of them would come until it was safe but hopefully that wouldn’t be too long now. Another shot echoed in the distanced as if mocking me. The sound was deafening even over the siren. Still it was hard to tell where the gunman was shooting from. Nothing around me was disturbed and truthfully I didn’t care if the shooter noticed me or not. If I was going to die then I wanted to do it on my own terms. I wanted to die knowing I wasn’t too scared to help a stranger on Christmas. Maybe it was my tenacity which made the shooter ignore me or maybe he was trying to think of an escape plan. I guess I would never know but while whatever was going on; I continued to do what I knew was right.
There was a lot of blood now pooled around him as I tried to see where it was coming from, one wound in his chest and one in his leg. The chest one was only a small entry wound but from the blood pouring out under him I knew the exit wound must be bad. My pulse jumped into my throat as I realized that there was not a lot I could do for him in my condition. Maybe if he had been rushed to hospital, he might have survived but even I had doubts.
In his left hand lay a small velvet box. It was too large for it to be a ring box. I grabbed his hand removing the box. His pulse was weak. A horrid thought entered my mind for I knew he didn’t have long left in this world. Carefully I placed the box in the waistband of my jeans. I didn’t know what was in it but I’d be damned if I’d let someone steal it.
Tilting my head I whispered. “Sir, it’s all right. Everything is going to be fine; I’m here to help you. All you have to do is hold on a little bit longer.”
I wasn’t expecting him to answer but it would have been reassuring. He was so close to death that I figured the best thing I could do was to hold him close and let him know he wasn’t alone. With my head resting beside his shoulder I held his hand and waited, whispering reassuring words. I didn’t feel cold any more instead I felt tired, so, with my hand clasped in the man’s I let myself drift off knowing I might never awaken. Jingle bells rock still playing in my mind as I hummed the tune wondering if I would ever see my family again.
Rebecca Nolan
Drowning, a new ChickLit romance book
Drowning is the story of Emily Rickshaw, a woman who on the outside seems to have it all, little do people know that she feels as though she is drowning with no chance of escape. Her husband hates her but won't commit to a divorce due to his political aspirations and his wife's influential family and the fact that Emily has a name for herself in the restauranteur business.
You can find 9 chapters of this story on Wattpad http://www.wattpad.com/story/25119964...
Wattpad is a free service which allows readers to find up and coming talent for free and allows writers to perfect their work while expanding their fan base.
You can find 9 chapters of this story on Wattpad http://www.wattpad.com/story/25119964...
Wattpad is a free service which allows readers to find up and coming talent for free and allows writers to perfect their work while expanding their fan base.
