We All Laugh At Bleeding Eyes (Chapter 1)

Hey guys, I'm usually a short story writer! However, I've decided I'm going to TRY and write a chapter book! If it's any good I'm going to think about getting it printed (more for personal use than commercial use)... but anyway, this is only my first draft, but here's Chapter 1! Let me know what you think! PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE be honest and don't hold back with your questions or comments! Thanks!

Chapter One​

Stepping into the triple-wide trailer, I felt a burst of cold air hit my warm, sticky skin. Being in the south part of Kentucky in the middle of summer, outside was bound to be over one hundred degrees. My short denim shorts clung to my long tanned legs, which made them uncomfortable and itchy. Slowly stepping inside the screen door, I carefully let the door gradually sit on the latch to eliminate any loud banging noise. Deciding that my pink sponge flip-flops might make too much noise against the oak hardwood floor, I took them off and carried them in my right hand. Tiptoeing through the hallway, I saw my destination in plain sight. Squinting my eyes and clenching my teeth, I slowly sneaked through the hallway and towards the door in front of me. Pausing just before the mahogany wood door to hear for any movement, I felt a wave of relief wash over me. The living room was obviously empty as there was no usual speech blaring out about teenage pregnancy by Dr. Phil. No sound came from the kitchen or the den. In fact, the whole house was quiet, unusually quiet.

Ray was usually up by now and sprawled across the cream ‘L’ shaped sofa. His shouts at the TV often travelled throughout the house, followed by spurts of a variety of different sounds as he angrily flicked through the channels with the remote in his right hand. A bottle of Budweiser often occupied his left hand, even though mom advised him not to drink so early in the mornings. He never listened to my mom. Apparently, it was his house and as far as he was concerned, he could do what he liked. Hit me. Shout at me. Punish me. Even if it wasn’t my fault, I got blamed for it. Mom tried to ignore it, she tried to make it seem like what he did to me was for my own good. Even though we both knew, it wasn’t.

Reaching for my bedroom doorknob, I felt the cold metal suppress the heat from my sweaty hands. As I softly turned the knob, the mahogany door creped open. Smiling at my amazing stealth abilities, I began to walk forward into my bedroom. Looking into my dresser mirror, I noticed my matted hair that clung around my face. Sweeping it back with a comb, I continued to stare at my reflection. Red patches under my eyes and on my cheeks made my skin glow; I had obviously caught too much sun. Turning around I looked around my room, there wasn’t a thing out of place. The floor was bare apart from my bed, a bookshelf, a wooden TV stand and wardrobe. Ray didn’t like mess and if he saw any, I’d be sure to know about it. Walking over to my bookshelf, I picked up the book I started reading last night.

I love reading; it’s one of my favourite hobbies. At the age of six, I was reading chapter books such as Goosebumps and Nancy Drew. Nancy Drew was still one of my favourite books even though I was now twelve. When I read it, it’s like I become the girl detective, I wasn’t just some girl sat at home in her bedroom reading. I was Nancy and I was there to solve a crime. The further I read, the more I unsolved the mystery, page by page, bit by bit. At school, I won several awards for reading. Apparently, I was the fastest reader in my whole school. Not even the smartest boy in my grade could catch up with me. Smiling at the thought, I turned a page in my book.
Just then, I heard something bang across from me. As I looked up, I noticed Ray standing in my doorway. My heart immediately dropped.
“What are you doing in?” He asked rubbing his chin stubble with his right hand.
“It’s really warm outside and I was getting burnt,” I explained, pointing at my sunburn on my face.
“Get outside and play!” Ray bellowed at me.
Dropping my book, I quickly stood up to leave. As I walked to the doorway, Ray didn’t move. I clenched my teeth and nervously squeezed by him. Just missing the breeze of his hand, I ran towards the front door.
That was a good day for me. No bruises, no marks, no signs stuck to my back. I remember when I was around seven years old; I came out of the toilet and forgot to wash my hands. I opened the door and I saw Ray stood there, blocking my exit.
“Why didn’t you wash your hands?”
“Oh, I forgot, I’ll go do it now.”
Before I could even turn around to head towards the sink, he grabbed my arm and pulled me into the living room.
“Don’t move or I’ll get the belt.”

As he disappeared, I stood in the middle of the living room and my eyes started to burn. Rubbing my arm where he had left a red hand mark, I tried to think what I had done wrong. I didn’t get what I had done that was so bad. I was only a kid, of course I couldn’t remember to do everything all the time. I did say I would go back and wash them, what’s the big deal? As Ray came back in, I noticed him holding a piece of paper.
“Turn around.”
“What?”
“Fucking turn around now!” He shouted at me gripping my arm again. Tears flowed from my eyes and I grabbed my arm once more as Ray cellar taped a sign to the back of my back saying ‘I am a dirty bitch.’
“Get outside.”
“But it’s eight o’clock at night, It’s pitch black!” I sputtered out.
His hand connected with my face, and I felt a warm liquid flow from my nose. Grabbing my nose, I turned around I ran for the door. Outside I could see nothing. All I could hear was grasshoppers chirping in the field next to us. The woods behind our trailer were barely noticeable. The moonlight shone on a few tall trees that illuminated their silhouette in the dark night. Walking next to the field, I started to cry uncontrollably. Gradually sitting down I used my jacket sleeve to wipe up the blood from my nose.

Looking above the crops, I noticed my friend’s white car in the driveway. Her kitchen window light was on, so I assumed she was in. Getting up I ran to her front porch and knocked on the door. She invited me in for hot chocolate and cookies. I told her everything about Ray and the sign on my back and she took it off me and tore it up. Margret wasn’t a typical twelve year old girl’s friend, but I had no one else. She looked after me as if I was her own. She had a daughter of her own of course, but she was always away at college or her boyfriend’s house, so Margret was often lonely, and so was I. That suited me just fine.

 

Not having read the whole thing, I can't comment on it too much. From what I did read though, I would recommend cutting a decent amount of the adjectives/adverbs. They're unnecessary and belabour the text.

FYI, I didn't not read the whole thing because there was anything wrong with it, just don't have a lot of time right now. Just wanted to leave this quick note.

 

The reader has to study the text for a while and finally decide that Ray is your father or stepfather. You should tell the reader earlier exactly who he is. Also your character's name, age (12) and gender should be given to the reader earlier. Now if you have a story line in mind you can go further with this beginning.

If you decide to revise the text, I suggest doing an update in place. Works for me.