This novel is limited to 100 free copies due to its part in Inkitt’s Novel Contest.
I saw one of the best minds of a previous generation destroyed by madness, crying, hysterical, watching her hair fall off her scalp in front of her eyes, strapped in, dragged down a cold, sterile ammonia-scented corridor, her nerves jumping with every echoing clop of the soles of black wooden shoes, echoes of ominous calls for doctors over a static-ridden P.A., memories of family portraits, boys, dances, presentations to Her Majesty which she would never again remember, the sound of her own voice which would never again be heard coherently, now just relax, this isn’t going to hurt you, this is going to help you - the horrible hornet hum of pieces of her skull cast askew by Black and Decker, like a jackhammer on a broken street, sppon and spatula-style utensils plunged blindly inside her head while she counted backwards from 100 and back - sang God Bless America while her God was nowhere to be found, entertained these mercenary minions with anecdotes she’ll never relive as pieces of her soul were flung about the room smeared on surgical scrubs soon to be scooped up in a haz-mat bag, staring blankly, serving a sentence of silence for her thuggish threats to thwart a meaningless masturbatorial pretense of power – perfection – prestige – crucifixion with no resurrection – eradication of existence – questions quelled of a thoroughbred
Who never jumped or asked how high
Who dared seek the company of others not previously assigned under the hostile suppressive gaze of one
Who rationalized it was all for the best
Who retroactively regaled the press with stories of the great shame they called their eldest daughter
Who threw temper tantrums like her sisters threw parties,
Who sneaked out of her cell at a convent school for Wild Irish Sex
Who balked at having a governess at the age of 22
Who walked around with soiled sanitary napkins in her purse
Who her family says was born retarded when her head was jammed in place to keep her from exiting her mother’s birth canal.
Magoo18: The title caught my eye and I just had to read it. It's very well done and consistent through out. The Story and Wording had a terrific lyric quality that helped it to roll off the tongue while reading. While I am not sure you meant for there to be a lesson I found there was one. Life is a journe...
FreakyPoet: "you made me laugh, made me cry, both are hard to do. I spent most of the night reading your story, captivated. This is why you get full stars from me. Thanks for the great story!"
Sara Joy Bailey: "Full of depth and life. The plot was thrilling. The author's style flows naturally and the reader can easily slip into the pages of the story. Very well done."