Flashback - 700+ Words

[ratsy]

For my new WIP I have a series of flashbacks, building up to this one. They explain some things as the character goes through actions. In the scene before the MC put on the necklace he'd forgotten about until he woke up with the world covered in space ships. My wife thought it may be a little too heavy, but she always feels like I'm putting my own feelings into my writing on scenes like this. I suppose I am a little bit but IMO we should use what ever emotion we have and mix it into our own characters to make them more real. Any ways, keep in mind this is a rough draft that I just wrote yesterday. I want to know if it works and if it is a scene that can fit into an invasion/SF book.


Three Years Ago

Janine was in bed sleeping soundly when I stepped into the room. The hot soup cup was burning my hands and I just stood there with the pain. I felt like I needed the distraction, like the burning would make my other pain go away somehow. Even though we were in our own house, the smell of the hospital still stuck in my nostrils, and I wasn't sure if the chemical scent would ever be gone.

It was time, and Janine demanded to come home for the end. How could I deny that beautiful woman's wishes when she was so small and frail; her life slipping away in hours and minutes instead of decades and years like someone her age should have left.

I put the soup down, sat at the foot of the bed, and just watched her breathe. The sounds lulled me and I felt my own eyes getting droopy. I lay down and curled up beside my wife like I always did when we went to bed. Even if it was too warm I needed to feel her body next to mine to fall asleep. I'd become dependent on her in so many ways, and I had no idea what I was going to do when she was gone. As I closed my eyes I thought about dying, and wondered if we would be together in some sort of afterlife if I ended my own life when she was gone. My last thoughts were of a bottle of whiskey and a vial of pills before sleep too over my exhausted body.

I woke to her touch. A soft kiss on my lips; her hair cascading down on my face. I cried, and felt shame in my pain. She was the one dying and I was the one crying about it like a baby constantly. The worst part was it seemed like she was okay with having a husband who couldn't stop blubbering.

“Janny, I love you so much. I'm so sorry this happened,” I blurted between sobs.

She looked me in the eyes, and for the first time in weeks I saw her own eyes well up. A single tear fell slowly and splashed on my cheek. It mingled with my own and somehow I felt better for it.

“I have to tell you something.” She leaned back down on her pillow and it was almost as if I noticed how sick she really was for the first time. Her shallow eyes were gaunt; skin tight against her hollow cheeks. She coughed lightly and I saw a speck of blood fly out and onto the bedding.

“Just remember that I'm sorry.” I went to stop her and she waved me down. “Dean, don't say anything...” another cough, “just listen. One day you will learn something about me. Just know that I'm sorry, and that I truly do love you with all of my heart. You mean everything to me and I never expected to feel this way. My life has been worth it just to have met you, and don't forget it. Don't ever forget this moment. “ Her hand wiped the tears from my face, as her own streamed down her cheeks.

I had no idea what she was talking about, but I knew she was almost gone. Her voice had got so quiet; her breathing ragged. “They will come one day. Appear in the sky.” My heart hammered in my chest as she spoke, the words sounded so foreign to me. I glanced over to the night stand and saw the half empty bottle of pills and assumed she was hallucinating. She tried to take off her necklace, which she had never done before but I put my hand on her's and stopped her from over-exerting herself. Her eyes were closed and she whispered so softly. I had to move in, our cheers pressed together tightly. “Wear the necklace. When they come...wear the necklace.” She coughed hard, but I kept close. I could feel her breath on my face, hardly there at all. “Promise me, Dean. Promise me. When the ships come...wear the necklace...”

“I promise,” I said.

Her breathing stopped, and I held her close to me one last time.

 

[yorelm]

I realize this type scene demands it to some extent, but it read just a little over-the-top dramatic to me, bordering on melodrama.
Please take into consideration that that may just be "reader's preference" type statement rather than definitive.

It also struck me that Dean should have reacted quite a bit more to: "One day you will learn something about me."
If someone I loved was dying and said that, it would be more to me than just a passing statement.

 

[tinkerdan]

I don't see this as over the top.

I like this kind of scene in a story where there's that intimate moment with the main character and love that twist(though a bit trope-y) where she confesses to something though it's not clear what. And of course he believes it might just be the drugs as well it could be.
one note: in case you haven't noticed
sleep too over my exhausted body
maybe should be took

I like it as is and I'll let others pick its bones.

 

[Jackie Bee]

I'd agree with yorelm, sounded a bit melodramatic to me, too. (Nicely written, though!) This part, for example felt like unnecessary explaining to boost drama --its obvious without it that he loves her and needs her: "Even if it was too warm I needed to feel her body next to mine to fall asleep. I'd become dependent on her in so many ways, and I had no idea what I was going to do when she was gone" Just an opinion...

 

[Droflet]

Okay, Ratsy, I like this. I think it could be tightened a bit but apart from that, and a few nit picks, this reads pretty good to me. Well done.

Janine was in bed sleeping soundly when I stepped into the room. The hot soup cup was burning my hands and I just stood there with the pain. I felt like I needed the distraction, like the burning would make my other pain go away somehow. Even though we were in our own house, the smell of the hospital still stuck in my nostrils, and I wasn't sure if the chemical scent would ever be gone.

It was time, and Janine demanded to come home for the end. How could I deny that beautiful woman's wishes when she was so small and frail; her life slipping away in hours and minutes instead of decades and years like someone her age should have left.

I put the soup down, sat at the foot of the bed, and just watched her breathe. The sounds lulled me and I felt my own eyes getting droopy. I lay down and curled up beside my wife like I always did when we went to bed. Even if it was too warm I needed to feel her body next to mine to fall asleep. I'd become dependent on her in so many ways, and I had no idea what I was going to do when she was gone. As I closed my eyes I thought about dying, and wondered if we would be together in some sort of afterlife if I ended my own life when she was gone. My last thoughts were of a bottle of whiskey and a vial of pills before sleep too overcame my exhausted body.

I woke to her touch. A soft kiss on my lips; her hair cascading down on my face. I cried, and felt shame in my pain. She was the one dying and I was the one constantly crying about it like a baby constantly. The worst part was it seemed like she was okay with having a husband who couldn't stop blubbering.

“Janny, I love you so much. I'm so sorry this happened,” I blurted between sobs.

She looked me in the eyes, and for the first time in weeks I saw her own eyes well up. A single tear fell slowly and splashed on my cheek. It mingled with my own and somehow I felt better for it.

“I have to tell you something.” She leaned back down on her pillow and it was almost as if I noticed how sick she really was for the first time. Her shallow eyes were gaunt; skin tight against her hollow cheeks. She coughed lightly and I saw a speck of blood fly out and onto the bedding.

“Just remember that I'm sorry.” I went to stop her and she waved me down. “Dean, don't say anything...” another cough, “just listen. One day you will learn something about me. Just know that I'm sorry, and that I truly do love you with all of my heart. You mean everything to me and I never expected to feel this way. My life has been worth it just to have met you, and don't forget it. Don't ever forget this moment. “ Her hand wiped the tears from my face, as her own streamed down her cheeks.

I had no idea what she was talking about, but I knew she was almost gone. Her voice had gotten (?) so quiet; her breathing ragged. “They will come one day. Appear in the sky.” My heart hammered in my chest as she spoke, the words sounded so foreign to me. I glanced over to the night stand and saw the half empty bottle of pills and assumed she was hallucinating. She tried to take off her necklace, which she had never done before but I put my hand on her's and stopped her from over-exerting herself. Her eyes were closed and she whispered so softly. I had to move in, our cheers pressed together tightly. “Wear the necklace. When they come...wear the necklace.” She coughed hard, but I kept close. I could feel her breath on my face, hardly there at all. “Promise me, Dean. Promise me. When the ships come...wear the necklace...”

“I promise,” I said.

Her breathing stopped, and I held her close to me one last time.

 

[Brian G Turner]

I personally didn't have to much problem with this - it's an emotive scene, and presumably comes after some build-up to provide enough context to give it the sense of poignancy intended.

There was a little too much repetition of the word 'pain' and the burning and painful soup felt a little over-egged. Thinking of suicide at this point also felt like a distraction.

So mostly fine to my tastes, but would suggest you listen to your wife and try to smooth down a couple of edges to this. Tweaking, rather than rewriting, though.

 

[ratsy]

Thanks for the comments everyone.

Yorlem and Jackie, I can see how you think it may be over that top. It is just to add emotional connection to the MC and his now dead wife, and a future betrayal, and why it stings so much.

Thanks Tinkerdan. I'm glad you liked it. I know it may be a little trope-y but I'm hoping the story is original enough as a whole.

Brian, it is as you say, a build up to this point in the main story and with the couple flashback scenes before it. A very important, exciting scene happens in present time directly after this.

Drof, lots of good spots there. I will go over and smooth, and tweak the scene.

That is what I needed, I think. Thanks all.

I am glad to hear mostly good things about the actual writing at least. I'll take it at this point.

 

[wmason]

It works. It is a scene that can fit into an invasion/SF novel, (and I'm not just saying that because you asked me to).

The story drew me in right away and held me to the end. It was definitely enough to make me want to know what happens next.

I think pouring your heart and soul into a book is the best way to create the magic that draws the reader in, so that's a good thing in my opinion - so long as it isn't over done.

There were some minor things that pulled me out a little. Mostly just grammatical things, and little tweaks to the sentences.

I also wondered why you chose hot soup just before he went to bed - as opposed to hot chamomile tea, for example, as he would have been trying to calm down from the stress of having his wife so recently home from the hospital; and with so little time left to live.

 

[ratsy]

Thanks for commenting wmason. Tea may make more sense. I think the MC really just wants to provide his wife some sustenance to keep her alive if possible, even though it is probably not possible at this point. I will think about this point.

See you around the Chrons