Welcome to WIPpet Wednesday, a weekly blog hop which encourages writers to move WIPs (works-in-progress) to publication by posting excerpts related to the date.We’re led by the capable fingers and nimble mind of Emily Witt.
I took an intermission from Sea Changes last month, because I wasn’t quite ready with the rough revision of this scene. I’d intended to share the three scenes NaNo-rough, but this one…well, it was way too jumbled up to share with anyone!
So Trip and T’Pol came out to play for a month, while I got things squared away with this, the final scene I’ll be sharing, at least for now.
Nuff said. Let’s rejoin Ava Garcia in Sea Changes.
Ava grew on me during the writing of her story. She was a constant revelation. Her story, and her struggle are compelling, and, for me, they go beyond the issue of whether people should be allowed to choose the manner of their death. She encapsulates my personal attitudes about how children deserve to be treated. It’s an honor to share her voice with you!
In advocating for a dying girl seeking emancipation from controlling parents, can an overburdened young woman and a lonely young man find a future together?
Today is September 7, 2016.
I‘ve got 4 paragraphs today. Seven plus nine equals sixteen; sixteen divided by four is four. Why four? I don’t know, really, except maybe that September is the fourth to last month of the year.
Sharp and Jagged Words
Ava was drowning. No. She was asleep, and it was only a dream; she’d learned how to let go of nightmares when she was six. She’d read about it on her tablet, when she was supposed to be sleeping. “So that you’ll be able to get good grades, get into a good school, and have a successful life one day.” There was Mom, by the side of her bed, lecturing her as she took the tablet away, while Dad sneered about her being a “little baby who still sucked her thumb.”
She tried to tell them, yet again, that she learned more on her own than she ever did in school – but they didn’t hear her. They never heard her. So she kept on sneaking that old tablet into bed, so she could learn while they thought she was asleep, but now she was.
caught. There was a huge fight, with both of them screaming.
Screaming, and not seeing that she was drowning, because they were too busy blaming each other for the fact that their daughter ‘”doesn’t take her damned future seriously.”
She wanted to scream right back at them, tell them how she was drowning, how she was drowning in an ocean of their sharp and jagged words. But she couldn’t draw in enough air around the thick words caught in her throat, slicing at her.
Is Ava actually drowning?
Did she scream at her parents?
Will she be safe when she wakes up?
Next week, we’ll learn more.
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