Contest #241 winner 🏆

When I Read Beckett

Submitted into Contest #241 in response to: Start your story with an unexpected betrayal.... view prompt

73 comments

Coming of Age Crime Thriller

This story contains themes or mentions of sexual violence.

…in…in this room…cursed room…loved?... cursed…. where she slept…half-grown in her hometown t-shirt…shorts…no shorts…t-shirt worn with holes…on the floor…he having thrown it…under the bed…dust collected and swept and settled again…. and again…who?... he… not she?...gracious!...there for the first time…assuredly last time…no boys in the room, father said…keep out!...nodded her head… but in the room…blue light hugging the window…scotch tape…peeling off the paint whether chipped or freshly laid or…exhumed…he found her in the— no, not found…held…held her in…under doomed blankets…a thumb…under a thumb…twisted under a thumb … urgently… unabashedly… shackled by his name … no name… names unknown… two in the bed… one… world flaring by… unedited film chopped and hacked… a sore thing… ulcers blooming somewhere…holes in her memory…in her body… hush now…but the slicing… husssshh I say!… feeling…feeling her own atomic skeleton… so quickly destroyed… so quickly defiled… so quickly filled…it might serve to relax…dissociate… but incapable… already unaware…the girl… the girl…but the girl?... remember what… remember the party… supposed to be where?... with whom?... taken home… taken home with… she left the house?... in the evening… bottles on the porch… tequila stinging chapped mouths… he pours… and pours… and pours… and pours… and disappears… a spoon of sugar in a wet glass… moon casts a shadow… bloody crescent… stray sequins scratch her shins…they flake off…she is whisked away…smells distilled…the party…what party?… the secret of where it is…where it was… must have been…seen by people scantily dressed… a stain on the night… she wore… the idea of what she wore… received poorly… with exhilaration… noted…clicked… recorded and frozen forever as she was… those flashes… bright in her eyes… phone cameras glinting… periphery irritated…some kind of no man’s land… couldn’t breathe… too hot… couldn’t hear her voice… escape…wanting it all to fade to black…anywhere else but here…so leave… leave!... let out into vapor… where did she go?... seen?... by anyone?... taken home… taken…transported, goods handled… express shipping for dolls…laid to rest in a bed of bubble wrap…resting… in bed… then: a stranger…no… not a stranger… couldn’t be a stranger… to know her bed… in her room…been in her room before… but father said no…yet…so-called friend!… always... easily trusted…hand on her lower back… her sentences half-finished … since days with velcro shoes… there like a mole… constant… dependable… then… then he…then swam in her mouth… syllables of his name…they’re in her teeth…to be scooped out by dental floss… stuck… tip of her tongue… his finger on her pocked tongue… a moment of gagged silence… lips form sounds learned in primary school…not a scream…some sounds…vowels from when she was small and they…the words tasted new… like a finger?… a thumb... no!... like English… children who knew the flavor… but she…the bitterness…she… muffled sounds and play and muffled sounds… out of touch… English more like aspic to her….at the time…at that point… but finding… somehow she found…but one universal language in hands and dirt under fingernails… fingernails on skin…raking on skin… touches…sticking to drool… dirty kisses on monkey bars…language of friendship… a friend…a friend who understood her warped words… English forgotten… shoulder by shoulder… kisses with friends…wood chips licking open shoes… pigtails on her head with the little bows… and she forced herself to smile… yanked by the ends… tickled by the belly… touched… little boys… being boys… she did not realize…long before parties…she did not realize… laying in the bed pigtails long gone…gone where? ... time spilled over from a cup … splaying… no, spreading … on the duvet… uncovered, but why?... the thought of… at the party… or rather… God!... zippers undone, knots untied… laces in her shoes… unlaced…command strips flayed from a mirror shattered on the floor… cut feet in the morning– spliced… she struggles…finds herself in— out of herself… second of incomprehension…hours…spanning hours… erased and unnoticed by a blink…Gosh!...but her mind… a washing of sorts… reckoning with punishment…lack of evidence…guilty!...punishment… guilt in a sealed box open only to her… vanished memory… insufficient evidence… inadmissible… poured out in measured shots…now love is an apparition in the wall… friendship buried in a shallow grave… unseen…slipping through a groping fist… strange fist groping at… at… her native tongue resurfaces… from the cradle… from mother’s milk…forming sounds… sounds like no… foreigners deaf to no… adequately expressed… speak English!... but she can’t… she can’t… gibberish garbled in her throat…congealed from the inside… speak! {error} speak! {error}…suddenly… indubitably… he!…unadmitted… swine!...door left unlocked… having forgotten to lock…brought her home without keys…carried on his shoulder… a friend… helping hand…by a friend… since she met him… day one… fat black eyes, dirty handshake… playgrounds…those same pigtails sinuous in his fingers… friendship… firm… invitations to places… introductions to people…been in her room before… some cousins to know of… mario kart in his basement… pizza on trampoline forts…sharing generously… growing new body parts… sheltered…without doubt?... certainly not!...how could she… not to see it coming… a girl and a boy…together… as friends…?... not to trail the wicked scent… perhaps unassuming…perhaps mistaken… unaware… naive… guilty… secretly wanting… once or twice a flirt… in sobriety dripping with meaning… he reads…pours tequila into shot glasses… her language stinks of filth to interpret as… in that tight skirt… combinations of… stop right there!... can it?... when it comes down to it…guilty…guilty…guilty…there in her body… there in her hands… and the cameras…a still life…friends seeing it happen…seeing it all happen… indelible…the guilty party… fine!...let it be this way… crumbs for the world… chewed on in daylight… school hallways chattering like shivering teeth…goosebumps…her flesh…feed the hungry… fed to friends…he… notches in his ribs… on her… grating… somewhere in the room… but she can’t speak… can’t see… on the desk somewhere… a hairbrush… a stone…to fight with…fight back…she can’t move… fight back…  and hurt a friend…how the story goes… pitched in the courtroom… self-defense…when judgment day comes…and if it comes… who protects friends?...she…she… language unserving…there in her body… there in her hands…there in her body…there in her hands…a friend…and she…she…says nothing…does nothing…in this room… in…

March 16, 2024 02:41

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73 comments

Ev Datsyk
01:26 Mar 25, 2024

Massive congratulations on the win! Harrowing.

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Liz Grosul
14:39 Mar 25, 2024

Thanks Ev!!

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Philip Ebuluofor
14:03 Mar 24, 2024

Congrats.

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Liz Grosul
14:40 Mar 25, 2024

Thank you!

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Shobana Gomes
11:58 Mar 24, 2024

Wow, I have never read a story told this way. Ingenuity in every line as it brings out dark emotions. Congratulations!

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Liz Grosul
14:41 Mar 25, 2024

Thanks Shobana! I am so happy the style resonated. Thanks again for reading!

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12:06 Mar 23, 2024

I love the non-traditional format of constantly flowing thoughts which transcend space/time, while exploring the narrator’s sexual abuse and the resulting fallout. Great work and congrats on the win!

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Liz Grosul
14:43 Mar 25, 2024

Thank you for reading Stanley! Your comment makes me very happy and I'm so glad you found the style compelling.

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10:41 Mar 23, 2024

Such an interesting way to write a story. Read it twice. Deftly done. Almost musical to read. A fantastic and daring way to write it. Congrats on the win.

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Liz Grosul
14:44 Mar 25, 2024

Thanks Kaitlyn! Appreciate you reading and your kind words.

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Lo Lace
05:33 Mar 23, 2024

This is like reading the thoughts no one dare utter. A bit like be pricked on my finger from a time I wish I didn't remember. Hard to read when you can relate.. But congrats on the win! Much deserved for sharing!

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Liz Grosul
14:45 Mar 25, 2024

It was hard for me to write to. Lots of baggage to unpack. Im so thankful to you for reading. Thanks Lo!

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Lo Lace
16:00 Mar 25, 2024

I imagine it was very hard. Yet in a way probably therapeutic. And you’re most welcome 😊!

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Cassie Robbins
02:55 Mar 23, 2024

Well done, Liz! This story…this style of storytelling…had my stomach churning throughout. I was totally swept up; almost afraid of what I would read next. I’m fairly new to writing, but the pauses and the fractured speech seemed so appropriate for the subject matter. Good golly! My mind was busy trying to absorb all the amazing imagery and emotion and pull out the thread of the story. The betrayal is obvious and fits the prompt well, and I am left bleeding for the betrayed.

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Liz Grosul
14:47 Mar 25, 2024

Thank you Cassie! Your comment means a lot to me. The betrayal felt visceral while I was writing it. I found it difficult, but I'm glad it worked out in the end. Thanks again for your wonderful words!

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Tommy Goround
00:42 Mar 23, 2024

It's like trying to read while your head is held under water. Yes.

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Liz Grosul
14:47 Mar 25, 2024

What a good way to describe it. This is something that Samuel Beckett does so well! Thanks for reading Tommy!

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George Beasley
19:38 Mar 22, 2024

Loved the writing style. Congratulations on the win!

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Liz Grosul
21:12 Mar 22, 2024

Thank you George! I'm so happy you liked the style. Means a lot.

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Michael Maceira
19:16 Mar 22, 2024

This is such a heartbreaking tale in a truly original format. Some of my favorite lines are "friendship buried in a shallow grave" and "command strips flayed from a mirror shattered on the floor." The way you capture how a broken friendship was false all along -- and the way it was broken! Wonderful job, Liz.

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Liz Grosul
21:11 Mar 22, 2024

Thank you Michael! I got the style from Samuel Beckett's play Not I. It felt like the only way to capture something like this. I'm so glad you liked it.

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Michael Maceira
19:59 Mar 23, 2024

Ah! The title makes sense now. I haven’t read Beckett, but I’m sure you did him justice.

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Annie Hewitt
18:59 Mar 22, 2024

Congratulations! Really powerful!!

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Liz Grosul
21:09 Mar 22, 2024

Thanks for reading Annie:)

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Lyle Closs
18:57 Mar 22, 2024

Great writing. Just great.

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Liz Grosul
21:09 Mar 22, 2024

Thank you Lyle! I'm glad you liked it and I appreciate you reading!

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Martin Ross
18:07 Mar 22, 2024

Congratulations! Excellent story!

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Liz Grosul
21:08 Mar 22, 2024

Thanks Martin! I so appreciate your support!

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Darvico Ulmeli
17:18 Mar 22, 2024

Congrats on the win. Well done.

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Liz Grosul
21:06 Mar 22, 2024

Thank you Darvico!

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Alexis Araneta
16:51 Mar 22, 2024

Congrats on the win ! Very creative, this one !

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Liz Grosul
21:06 Mar 22, 2024

Thanks Stella!

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David Sweet
16:41 Mar 22, 2024

Congrats on the win! I knew this story was strong the minute I began reading it!!

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Liz Grosul
21:06 Mar 22, 2024

Thanks for your sweet comments David! And for all your theater advice!

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Trudy Jas
16:33 Mar 22, 2024

Congratulations on the win! Way to go!

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Liz Grosul
21:05 Mar 22, 2024

Thank you Trudy!

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Harry Stuart
00:11 Mar 18, 2024

Ingenious approach, Liz. Your willingness to take risks with words in this story and the last one set in NOLA reminds me of another great artist - Jackson Pollock. Bravo!!

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Liz Grosul
02:07 Mar 18, 2024

Harry, thank you for your praise and for reading. Sometimes, writing does feel like a Pollock painting and I'm not sure what to make of it. By the way, I loved your story this week, especially your description of that internal negotiation with disappointment. I related.

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Harry Stuart
19:53 Mar 19, 2024

Thank you! Appreciate you reading it.

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Harry Stuart
17:50 Mar 22, 2024

Congratulations on the big win, Liz!! I was hopeful that the judges would take notice of the brilliance of your story! Very happy for you!!

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Liz Grosul
21:07 Mar 22, 2024

Thank you so much Harry! I'm so happy you liked it!

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Sanaa Lyles
13:04 Mar 25, 2024

I don,t like it I hate it stupid story u are a devil

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Liz Grosul
14:37 Mar 25, 2024

I'm glad you feel so strongly about my piece. I think we should all hate it when something like this happens. You're on the right track!

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19:09 Mar 22, 2024

Gibberish

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LeeAnn Hively
20:11 Mar 22, 2024

What? This is in the style of Beckett. This was to be read in the broken manner it was presented to us for a reason. It's a unique way to take a chance, but the entire story is there and told in a way that could be easily performed on stage as a play. I recommend you read it again and take the time to picture it being the words of a fractured mind.

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