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View Full Version : Aimee (Warning- Child trafficking and abuse)



Crying
January 4th, 2014, 07:57 PM
(!!!!! While it's not graphic, this piece contains the suggestion of child sex abuse and may be touchy or triggering.)
Aimee was a pretty name, she’d been told. Aimee had a pretty face, she’d been told. Aimee was a sweet girl, a rose, a queen among peasants, and she’d been told so all her life. Aimee Olivia Rochelle.
It wasn’t quite as slippery as Lo-lee-ta: the tip of the tongue taking a trip of three steps down the palate to tap, at three, on the teeth. Lo. Lee. Ta. She wasn’t Lo, plain Lo, in the morning, standing four feet ten in one sock. She was never a Lola in slacks. She couldn’t have been Dolores on the dotted line. But in their arms, she was always just another the same, a little lady of eight or ten or twelve years and it didn’t matter because it couldn’t matter.
She was not too young to be confused and not too old to worry, but she was trained to smile and bite her lips and stand pigeon toed in front of their ugly heaving bodies telling her to come over and lie beside them.
And nobody asked, and nobody helped, and at the end of every broken night she would graciously accept a trembling hundred and then a twenty as they told her to “buy herself a new dress”.
They called her eyes ‘a rich, exotic violet’, when they were really dark, cloudy blue, but no one ever complained. They called her hair ‘the color of spun gold’, when it was really dirty blonde, perforated with strands of sun that stuck out in pretty curls and wisps around her head, but no one commented. The pale freckles on her nose were the same, the dark curve of her eyelashes was the same, but Aimee was different because they told her she was different. Aimee was different because they told everyone who was interested that she was different, and they listened, and they entered with ‘husband’s bulges’ and full pockets and twisted, hungry smiles.

(Not done yet, thought I'd post it to get a little feedback... Also, I'd like to make sure that everyone knows that the point of this piece is that child abuse is disgusting and awful and ruins lives. Yeah.)

Abita
January 12th, 2014, 08:05 PM
I think you're off to a really good start. One small point: I found it a little confusing that "they" was used interchangeably to reference the people who seemed to be pimping her out, and the clients that were actually purchasing her services. It wasn't until I got to the last paragraph that I realized "they" (the pimps?) labeled her eyes violet, but "they" (the clients) didn't mind that they were really blue. I think it would be a bit more powerful if you could refer to one of these groups as "they", and find a way to differentiate the other group.

Otherwise, sounds like a very interesting piece. The second half in particular is well-done. I really liked your use of the word "perforated" to describe her hair; it does a good job of reflecting the violent undertone of the passage.

cob
January 14th, 2014, 01:50 AM
Other than the aforementioned "they" confusion, I findd it to be a very well done scene. I think pronoun work in general will help a lot.
Another comment, there is such a thing as "tropical" eyes. It may be the color you have in your mind, just a little nugget for you to chew on.
You have a very good sense of cadence but, I would caution you against using it tooooo much. "She was.... they told her." and "They called her... but." I absolutely love it here but, just be aware that if you do that kind of thing too much, it will go from artistic to simplistic

TheWriteStuff
February 9th, 2014, 04:26 AM
I'm going to add my comments in red. Hope they help!

Aimee was a pretty name, she’d been told. First sentence reads a little odd, can you change this around so it has more flow? Aimee had a pretty face, she’d been told. Aimee was a sweet girl, a rose, a queen among peasants, and she’d been told so all her life. Ah, now I see what you're trying for. I would keep the template the same for the third sentence ("...a queen among peasants, she'd been told") Aimee Olivia Rochelle.
It wasn’t quite as slippery as Lo-lee-ta: the tip of the tongue taking a trip of three steps down the palate to tap, at three, on the teeth. Lo. Lee. Ta. She wasn’t Lo, plain Lo, in the morning, standing four feet ten in one sock. She was never a Lola in slacks. She couldn’t have been Dolores on the dotted line. But in their arms, she was always just another the same, a little lady of eight or ten or twelve years and it didn’t matter because it couldn’t matter. Are you trying to play off the beginning of Lolita? I'm not so sure that this second sentence really makes sense this early into the story. Is there a way that we could learn more about Aimee before you compare her to another?
She was not too young to be confused and not too old to worry, but she was trained to smile and bite her lips and stand pigeon toed in front of their ugly heaving bodies telling her to come over and lie beside them.
And nobody asked, and nobody helped, and at the end of every broken night she would graciously accept a trembling hundred and then a twenty as they told her to “buy herself a new dress”.
They called her eyes ‘a rich, exotic violet’, when they were really dark, cloudy blue, but no one ever complained. They called her hair ‘the color of spun gold’, when it was really dirty blonde, perforated with strands of sun that stuck out in pretty curls and wisps around her head, but no one commented. The pale freckles on her nose were the same, the dark curve of her eyelashes was the same, but Aimee was different because they told her she was different. Aimee was different because they told everyone who was interested that she was different, and they listened, and they entered with ‘husband’s bulges’ and full pockets and twisted, hungry smiles. Well I must say that I like the concept and it would be interesting to see Aimee put into a more concrete situation. Instead of describing her typical actions, could you give us a scene where Aimee is with one specific person?