Do you want to read on? My story...?
On entering the gym she feels her mind submitting to the concoction of chemicals that God decided to release inside her head today. Chaos. Swirling and twirling, dancing and spinning, laughing and smiling and joking and hysteria.
Stop Ava. Stop this. She manages to say to herself as if it’s going to make any difference whatsoever.
The spin studio buzzes and her mind catches up with the speed and races faster than the bikes. Cycling, twisting, whirling, rolling. No fixed direction. She is everywhere and nowhere at once.
Her body follows suit as she loses all sense of co-ordination. She is embracing the bellowing wind on the mountain top, waiting for the physical world to catch up with her.
"Um, excuse me.” Hisses a snooty middle-aged voice “Watch where you're going" she snorts as Ava accidentily crashes and falls over an expensive pram whilst fumbling around for her purse.
Slipping from her fingers it smashes to the ground. Credit and Debit cards, coins and cash clash on the floor, bursting free. Pennies and pounds roll away and hide between crevices in the floor tiles and the sound echoes the reception to stillness.
Scrambling around on the ground she darts for the shiny gold card and producing it swipes herself through.
The onlookers at the reception desk gather around to watch the show.
"Evening Ava" smiles the receptionist attempting to hide her confused frown. But she gets no acknowledgement.
Ava doesn't need glasses, but still the gym is a blur.
The treadmills are a noisy monster - each step is thunder, each drop of sweat is a tropical storm in the amazon rain forest, the men it's warm-blooded beasts and the women are its sly, slinky amphibians. Bitches.
Ahhh the noise is too loud and the silence is too quiet.
Each set of blue eyes bolt through her like lashings of brutal thunder that seeked to strike her down.
Each set of green eyes are snakes, ready to snipe at her neck when her head was turned.
The grey eyes were knifes, the black eyes were storms ready to rain on her parade.
"****, god help me. No god is the devil. Devil. Hell. Burn. I'm sorry, I'm sorry." Anguish tore through Ava's ears like a thousand judgements and torutres all at once.
Run Ava Run. She whacks her headphones on upside down, but she doesn't notice.
'Bomnie Tyler. Hero. Full volume."
Yeah! Come on then Ava screams at the machine. Her nemisis. Top speed 23.5.
'Through the wind and the storm and the rain...I need a hero...." Her feet are flying, arms flanglibng, her head is nowhere and everywhere at the same time and the wiring in her brain is digging down a dangerous route.
She saw the death of her mother played in front of her eyes over and over again. The lies of her past. The lies she'd told.
The feet pounded harder on the treadmills. The bikes spiked harder, the mic screamed louder.
"Ava are you ok?" Asked a fuzzy stranger.
run ava run!
"leave me alone!' Ava dashes diZzily to the nearest lock and bolt door - and breaks down into oceans of tears, the barrage bursts open and years of sorrow flood out her eyes.
"God forgive me. God help me. I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry. ****.
He hates me. It ficking stinks in ere. You hear me! Filth! It ficking stinks in here." Ava screams into the air, unaware and impartial to the crowd fathered around outside the cubical door. It slams open, and they jump back as Ava frantically dashes for the sink.
Soap we're going to need lots of soap. Lots and lots of soap.
Yes. Filthy *****. Wash your hands.
Ava scrubs hard whilst the crowd around her watch on in clueless wonder.
What's going on?
"Ok everybody out." Shouts an authoritive female voice. Leanne.
Onlookers scuttle out and Ava doesn't notice. She's scrubbing the sin off her hands.
Tissues, we'll need tissues. She dispenses chunks of thick tissue paper and scrambles p the floor to begin scrubbing.
Filth. ******* filth.
Leanne dashes down towards Ava and the onlookers are pretending to need the toilet while they hold the door open and peer in.
Ava, ava, ava look at me.
Her eyes are Frantic and wild, and on fire. Steam in her cheeks, fire in her chest, sweat of defeat drips from her eyes. And she cries.
Oh god. No!
Every weight thudding greatly to the forgiving gym matts was an unforgiving earthquake.
A volcanic eruption invading the soft grass with its mighty heat.
The skipping rope rips into the ground and ligaments break as muscles tear and bones shatter.
Sweat pours from pores. The air polluted with spores. The ground is caving with each class that's raving.
Her mind is misbehaving.
Tv adverts shout loud and laugh louder at her. Pointing at her. Mocking her.
- 8 years agoFavorite Answer
This is very good and it does make me want to read on (although a better ending would be to have her maybe collapsing onto the floor in a fit or something, then pick up again in your next chapter. This would give it a better cliff hanger to grab your readers' attention.
I really like your use of imagery and phonetics. I'm not too sure, but I think this is one of the following situations:
1) she had taken drugs
2) she has a mental illness and has been pumped full of drugs but she probably didn't take them today or took the wrong ones. Maybe schizophrenia? (this seems more likely at the end, but is confusing, esp at the start - and not confusing in a good way in my opinion)
I do, however, have a complaint (I'm not going to sugar coat it because you're a strong writer and you don't need to be told how brilliant you are). the structure is all over the place. I know, I know - dugs, mental illness, it gives a sense of her mind. but your imagery and description conveys this very well. I would, if I were you, start less 'disorientated' (for want of a better word to describe how scattered and unorganised it is - not in a bad way) and let your writing become more agitated and distressed as it goes on. I think you already do this a little, but you could do it more by making the start less muddled. And just be careful that it doesn't continue in this manner for too long, because it is hard work for the reader to read it all and understand it and appreciate it. don't let it run away with you.
also, don't forget to use colour and smell and the other senses in your description - don't get me wrong, your writing is some of the best I've seen on this site, but it can still be improved.
Hope this helps :)
- 8 years ago
No, sorry. It doesn't. It's boring and like the start of many other books.Source(s): My opinion.