We used to play dress up here, in this room with the faded pink walls and scent of cherry. That's why the carpet's stained with red nail varnish and lipstick. It all epitomizes her with her character imprinted on every surface. The dust coated curtains stop sunlight from coming into the room, it's musky and dismal, a shadow of the past. It’s been five years, I still come in here and cradle myself into the corner, remembering what it was like to be a mother. Melissa would have been eleven years old now, the age you take your child to high school, the age they consider themselves adults, although Melissa had already grown up by the time she was five. This was her sanctuary, a place where no one but her and I could enter. Tugging her duvet in the morning readying her for breakfast, watching her play with her favourite toys during the day, and whispering a story at bedtime under the fort that we spent a whole day building, are all reoccurring memories in my mind. That’s all gone now. The bookshelf once filled with fairytales now belong to a charity shop, and her sodden clothes from my tears of loneliness have long moved on. The only thing left was also the hardest to get rid of.
I hesitate to open the door, no one has been in this room but me and Melissa, now there will be another body who will experience what we have. As I opened the door, light bleeding through the room, there it was, and soon it will be gone. The perfect wood, carved ever so careful by my husband, two curving pieces of beech wood, greeting us with smiles. The softness of the fur that encloses the stuffing, rushes through my memory. Five years, and that stuffed rocking horse is the only essence I have left of her. I walk inside and once more I am greeted with the smell of the magnificent cherry fragrance that will always belong to this room. I widen the door slightly, as I watch my best friend make the transition from the hall way to Melissa’s room, embracing the energy that so few have experienced. I cannot help but gulp, yet it is a strain to do so when I am fighting back tears.
Catherine, my best friend since college, she was there at the birth of Melissa holding my hand, she was there at the funeral of Melissa by my side. She was also there afterwards and had the strength to stop me forcing pills down my throat. I still to this day do not know whether to thank her or curse her for putting me through this hell. She has a child of her own now, a beautiful girl who has just started to walk, Godmother they all call me, I know it’s a good gesture although it seems all too much, showing her baby off to the whole world and laughing in my face for my misfortune. Looking into her face as she lays eyes on the horse I see that one thing in Catherine that I have not seen in myself for a while, joy. So excited to rip it out of my possession and treasure it for her own daughter. Examining the object to ensure if there were any dangers for her child, just like I did before I wrapped it up for Melissa. When satisfied she then looks at me, I cannot do anything but nod. It was my time to move on. Moving towards me with the horse in her arms, there is a stronger scent of cherry twirling around me that makes me feel numb. Flashes and images of Melissa’s reaction when she first rode on her rocking horse sends chills through my spine, crumbling every bone in my body. Before I knew it, before I could change my mind, Catherine was gone. It belongs to her now. I did not bother to try and climb down the stairs, I could not hide anymore tears, I just closed the door and cradled myself into the corner of Melissa’s room once more.
Melissa's Room
Published by spammoclocks on August 15, 2012 - 16:34
Comments
Blue1991 | August 15, 2012 - 17:27
Very haunting but lovely. A delicate topic handled beautifully. The writing could be smoother in places but the imagery's spot on. I really enjoyed it. :)
Sooz006 | August 15, 2012 - 17:52
any sun light from entering ... sunlight
light came bleeding through the room,.. change of tense, you've gone from past to present in the middle of a sentence.
I agree with everything blue has just said. Such a sad, sweet story. Beautiful.
spammoclocks | August 15, 2012 - 18:05
thank you for your comments and sooz006, thanks for letting know about those mistakes, I completely missed the change of tense.
Sooz006 | August 15, 2012 - 19:00
I liked this, so I hope you don't mind but I've come back to maybe make another couple of little suggestions.
The faded pink walls, the cherry scent that will never erase from a mothers memory, the carpet stained with red nail vanish and lipstick from when we played dress-up,all epitomise the characteristics of her room.
That is one hell of a sentence with a lot for the reader to take in. ...
One thing that I was picked up on recently, so I know I'm guilty of it too, is what somebody called conveyor belt description I call it three point description.
What I would probably do here is something like this...
We used to play dress up here, in this room with the faded pink walls and scent of cherry. That's why the carpet's stained with red nail varnish and lipstick. It all epitomizes her with her character imprinted. You go on to mention the cherry smell again later so I think you can lose the rest of the sentence from here.
The dust coated curtains now forbid any sun light from entering her room, maintaining a musky and gloomy feel, a shadow of its past presence...
again your second sentence is loaded with just so many textures and images that the reader is gorging on stimuli.
This is the last one, I promise. But I would maybe go with...
The dust coated curtains (which I love by the way) stop sunlight from coming into the room. I's musky and dismal, a shadow of the past. I've avoided two adjectives ending in Y by replacing gloomy with dismal. And the two words past and presence felt a bit jarring.
So we end up with...
We used to play dress up here, in this room with the faded pink walls and scent of cherry. That's why the carpet's stained with red nail varnish and lipstick. It all epitomizes her with her character imprinted on every surface. The dust coated curtains stop sunlight from coming into the room,it's musky and dismal, a shadow of the past.
..Which I think lightens up the density of it while keeping the layers of what you wanted to say.
This story is really poignant and beautiful but the long, description heavy sentences make it musky like the room. Which is great for the room in the story, but not so good for the writing.
Please only take on any of my suggestions that you agree with. I think with an edit you could have a cracking story well deserving of a cherry.
hudsonmoon | August 15, 2012 - 20:11
Haunted is a good word it. Eerie and sweet at the same time. I enjoyed the read very much.
Rich
spammoclocks | August 16, 2012 - 01:07
Thank you for all your replies, really means a lot. I feel I need to improve and learn from silly mistakes so I appreciate any criticism.Sooz006, I hope you don't mind but I have used your editing to make it a stronger opening. I am grateful for your honesty and generosity for sharing your ideas. Thank you.
mark_say | August 16, 2012 - 10:27
I agree with Blue and Sooz; you've done a very good job at conveying the lingering grief without wallowing in sentimentality or making it unrelentingly bleak.
You do need to tighten up on your punctuation and lose a couple of words from some sentences; ie I still to this day do not know whether to thank her or curse her for putting me through this hell. Also needs more para breaks.
But overall you've told the story very effectively.
Sooz006 | August 16, 2012 - 10:59
I feel I need to improve and learn from silly mistakes ...
...They aren't silly mistakes, they're just rungs on the ladder of where we'll eventually be. Some people on here will be a couple of rungs behind and some a couple of rungs ahead. Me, I'm at the top, because you see all those buggers lying on the floor? They're all better than me so I grabbed 'em by the ankles and threw them off. They're still better writers than me, but I'm the one with two good ankles.
The great thing about this site is that you can make every post a first draft and tighten it from there. You've got a great attitude and I look forward to reading more of you in the future.
Oh, and congratulations on the cherry.
spammoclocks | August 16, 2012 - 16:46
Oh, I got a cherry, thanks to your advice as well of course! I'm truly grateful. I must admit I did celebrate a bit too much. Thank you!