Fuzzypingu

The metal feels cold against Marcelle's skin. She shivers and looks up at the ceiling. She does not know where she is. Marcelle looks down and sees her bare body lying down on a soft cushioned bed. Blood drips down her breasts past her waist and onto the bed. She feels no pain. She shrieks with fear, but then quiets down. She figures that if she is the one bleeding, she wouldn't be awake right now. Marcelle scrunches around and tries to sit up. She finally gets a good look at her surrounding. On the ground, she sees a man covered in blood gasping for air. She sees a gaping hole in his stomach, and acids slowly dribbling out. He too is naked. She does not recognize the man. She knows not where she is, nor does she know why. Next to the man's body, covered in blood, is a pearl-handled pistol. The weapon that shot him. She struggles to slide off of the bed and falls on to the floor with a soft thump. Her bare body now covered in the man's blood. She puts her palms on the floor and gets on her feet. She tries to push herself upright but fails miserably. She tries again and again. On the sixth try she succeeds. Marcelle, looks down at the man, who was now looking back at her, with tears in his eyes. She feels bad for the poor guy. He just got shot. She notices that the man is not bound like she is. She looks around the room for a phone, but sees nothing. In a chair nearby, are her clothes; folded and piled neatly. She cocks her head as she looks at them with curiosity. This must be her room. Why she was lying on the bed naked and bound with handcuffs, she doesn't know. The stranger, on the floor, bleeding out his guts isn't helping her think straight.
Marcelle is a small, thin, girl. Her womanly features have only slightly begun to exist, and much earlier than many other young girls her age. She has short, straight, brunette hair. She is slightly tanned, but her skin is not too dark. Her nose is small and points at the end with a little bit of a hook. Her hazel colored eyes linger around the room, and stare with confusion at a small desk near the bed. On it she sees a tiny key no larger than her nose. Marcelle looks at the key and notices that it is not a normal house key. It has a loop at the base and a small shaft with a rectangular tip. She looks around the room to see what could use such a key. She walks over to the door, checks to see if it is locked and notices that the key is too small. She manages to walk around the room fine, but the handcuffs bug her a bit. She looks down at the handcuffs and sees that the key is shaped exactly like the hole. She uses her tiny hands and maneuvers the key into the cuffs to remove them. She flicks and rolls her wrists to cure the pain from the tight hold she was in. Moments later, Marcelle realizes that she is naked and walks over to her clothes, as if she were alone in the room. She is not a bashful girl, but she did get a little chilly after a while. She wished she could wash the blood off of her body, but she was trapped in the room. She puts her tight blouse on, followed by her underpants and her jean shorts. She put the handcuffs on the bedside table and walked over to the stranger. He looks like he is in too much pain to speak.
The man continues to slowly bleed out of his stomach and is becoming paler and paler. Marcelle crouches down and looks at the man's face. He doesn't look familiar at all. No triggered memories, no nothing. She wonders around the room some more looking for some clues, or a key to get out. She is bored. The room has plain white walls and a parquet floor. It is a very boring room. She looks over at the bed and sees that the blood is starting to dry. It was a small bed made for one adult-sized person. The room has no windows and one fluorescent light hanging on the ceiling. Very plain indeed. Marcelle wants to go outside and play with her friends. She wants to tackle her guy friends, and talk to her girl friends. She is a very outspoken girl, as her mother always told her.
Marcelle walks over to the man once more and sees that he is dying. She doesn't know who he is so she doesn't rush to save him. She decided that this man doesn't deserve to die, not like this. She runs up to the door and tries to see if she can unlock the door. She removes a hairpin and tried to jimmy the lock. The lock doesn't budge. She hears a tiny clanging and splashing noise behind her. She turns around and sees that the man dropped a key on the floor. She smiled. What a nice guy. Helping her get out of the room. She runs over to his body and picks up the key covered in blood. She wipes the key on her blouse and runs over to the door. She places the key in the hole and turns it left then right. When she turns it to the right, the door clicks. She grabs the knob and turns it. She steps out of the door, with the key still in hand.
Marcelle looks around and sees that she is in a hallway full of doors. On each door she sees a number and a letter. Across the hallway is 47a and 47b. She goes out of the room and looks at the door of the room she just left. 46a. She remembers the man bleeding out of his stomach and remembers that she was going to get help. She knocks on 47a and hears no answer. That's odd. The sun has only just begun to rise. Maybe the apartment is unoccupied. Marcelle then knocks on 47b and hears yet again no answer. She walks down the hallway knocking on each door waiting for an answer until she reaches 52b.
One last try. She knocks on the door and hears footsteps approaching the door. “Who is it?” she hears a quiet, high voice on the other end. “I- um.. I need to use a phone.” she replies. She sees the eyepiece being engulfed by darkness and she smiles sweetly. “Who are you?” says the voice once more. “My name is Marcelle. I came from 46a and I need to use the phone. There is a man lying on the floor bleeding out of his guts.” Marcelle replies with no hesitation. She sees the eyepiece lighten up again and hears the clicks and clangs of several locks. One click. Two click. Three. Four . Five. Six clicks. Why would someone have six locks? Odd. The door opens and a young woman with black hair walks out of the room. “How old are you?” she asks. “How old are you?” Marcelle replies feeling kind of appalled that this woman is asking for her age. “I am twenty five. Now you?” the woman replies. “I am eleven.” Marcelle says with glee. “And you live in 46b with a man who is bleeding out of his guts?” The woman replies with a curious tone. “Well... I know I was sleeping on the bed. And when I woke up I saw this man bleeding on the floor. He was shot.” Marcelle replies softly, “I think I live there. I don't remember too much... I need to call the police before the man dies. He should go to the hospital.” She says. She doesn't remember much at all. The past two weeks were a blur to her. “Okay, I'll bring the phone.” She says with a slightly disappointed tone.
The woman walks inside her apartment and a few seconds later returns with a cordless phone in hand. “Lets walk you back to the room. We can call from there.” She replies holding out her hand to the girl. “We're in an apartment building. I don't need to hold your hand.” Marcelle smiles and starts skipping down the hallway to the room. The woman follows her into the room and sees the naked man lying on the floor. She has a disgusted and freaked out look on her face. “Did this man touch you?” The woman asks Marcelle. “He was lying on the floor bleeding out of his stomach the whole time that I've been awake. I don't supposed he touched me.” Marcelle says. The woman dials 911 and places the phone to her ear. Marcelle hears the faint hum of the phone ringing and then a voice saying 911 how may I help you? “Hi, I would like to report a crime.” the woman says. Marcelle yawns and decides to take another nap. She walks over to the bed and lays down resting her eyes. “I would like to report a possible rape. And the rapist is lying on the floor dying.” the voices started to fade away.
Marcelle then feels a pair of hands rocking her back and forth. She hears faint shouts of “Wake up. Marcelle wake up. ” The shouts get louder and louder. “WAKE UP.” Marcelle opens her eyes and sees the woman from 52b rocking her back and forth screaming wake up in her ears. Marcelle looks up at this woman and asks “Why were you shouting?” The woman, confused and says “You fell into a deep sleep.” Marcelle looks around and sees that she is no longer in 46a. “Where am I?” she asked, as she sat up. “You are in the hospital. You have been sleeping for two days straight.” the woman replies. “Why are you here?” Marcelle replies. “You were asleep and I was the only one there. The police had no inclination of who your family was so the nurse asked me to stay with you. That maybe I might help trigger a memory of what happened to you.” The woman says. “Where is the man who was bleeding?” Marcelle asks. “He died before the ambulance came.” The woman replies. “He raped you” the woman begins to say, “Your rape test came up with that man's semen, and your fingerprints were on the pistol. We should call your parents.” she finishes to say. “If you are scared, you don't have to worry. I am here now. I know how you feel... That man.. He- he raped me when I was eleven too.” she sighs and smiles. “He can't hurt us anymore.” the woman says. Marcelle looks at the woman and tells the nurse her home number.

BeL

Hello there.

Well, this felt like reading a telegram. However, it was interesting and I kept reading till the end.

As far as the style is concerned, I'd advise you to try and make your story flow a little better, or if you want to keep it like this, try not to start every sentence with "She ..."

The descriptions were good, and I had quite a clear picture of what was going on throughout the story.

The story itself was nice, although I would prefer if you didn't tell the reader exactly what happened at the end.

Hope I helped,
M.G.

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donteatpoop

Very cool story. As BeL said, try to avoid starting each sentence with "she" or "Marcelle" as it tends to get repetitive. An easy way to do this is to start off by describing the action. So instead of "She rises above the bed to see a body below her." it could read "Rising above the bed, she sees a body below her."

Also, in the beginning it seems that you are attempting to display that the main character is confused, but there was very little in the way of describing the confusion. To really add to the sense of beffudlement I recommend dedicating a few sentences to describing the confusion so that the reader can truly feel it.

Finally, the dialogue in the end, after she returns to reality, seems very forced. It almost seemed to me that you knew that the reader needed to find out that both the woman and the main character were vicitms of rape from the same individual, so you just made them say it. Revealing this through dialogue is fine, and undoubtedly the most likely way for this to be reavealed in a situation such as this, but try to avoid just blurting it out in two or three lines.

I think there was a lot of emotion to this story that just needs to be refined a little so that it can more powerfully convey the emotions.

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