The awareness of my death was anything but instantaneous. In the beginning, I was unsure of where I was, and to be honest, completely oblivious to WHAT I was. If the unfamiliar surroundings were not disturbing enough, the fact that I could no longer physically feel anything left me feeling incredibly alarmed. I could not feel my fingers or my toes. I could not feel the chair I was sitting in.

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My birth, which should have been easy and natural for all the preparation taken by my mother, almost caused her death.

My mother describes how fortunate she was to be at the hospital dropping off some insurance papers needed before my due date which was over 3 weeks away.  She was causally talking to a chatty receptionist in the otherwise gloomy hospital lobby when she had an abrupt onset of pain, a pain so severe she described it as feeling as though life was being ripped away from her. Now up to this point her pregnancy was simple and predictable without any complications or variations from the expected.  It was so easy she sometimes wondered what other women complained about.

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I should have been watching the road. Instead, I saw my own face, younger and withdrawn, haggard above the blue hospital gown. Walter’s face hovered near mine. His normally smiling mouth was held tight, his black eyes squinted at me. Two contrasting teenagers, with my European blend; first generation etched into my features.

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It’s like this.

I was practically comatose until I saw Miss I’m nineteen which means I’m an adult and you’re only a child so I get to tell you what you can and cannot do and no, you can’t borrow my leather skirt because last time you borrowed it you stretched it out and then left it on the floor next to a bowl of half-eaten Cheerios that had been there at least a week pick up her gift from GAD (that’s Granny Dawe but I call her GAD as in Oh GAD! because I’m not allowed to say Oh GOD! because that would be taking the Lord’s name in vain which I’m not allowed to do even though my mother doesn’t actually believe HE exists because she says it is disrespectful to those people who do believe HE exists).

Where was I? Oh yeah.

I didn’t think GAD could find a way to top the gift she gave my sister last year which was a red, lace teddy (as in lingerie, not bear) which Courtney later said was cheap and tacky but I bet she kept it because it was just the kind of thing that her Ickhead boyfriend would like.

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Since Eden’s post on Friday was so helpful, I thought it’d be appropriate to do a critique using her advice.

Email your first five sentences of any WiP to ifyougiveagirl@gmail.com by Saturday June 27th and I’ll post them Sunday June 28th.

This is not a contest, so it’s open to all Girls With Pens as well!

Remember to look at the rules Eden specified and we’ll all be as helpful as we can!

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The awareness of my death was anything but instantaneous. In the beginning, I was unsure of where I was, and to be honest, completely oblivious to WHAT I was. If the unfamiliar surroundings were not disturbing enough, the fact that I could no longer physically feel anything left me feeling incredibly alarmed. I could not feel my fingers or my toes. I could not feel the chair I was sitting in.

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