Mirrors of Life

Contemporary fiction encompassing the elements of inspiration, philosophy, suspense and erotic romance

MIRRORS OF LIFE �" CHAPTER ONE

 

AS THE CIRCLE OF EARTH TURNS - opening and closing windows into the lives of people - locking and unlocking doors in their path -  a 14-year-old girl named Yvonne Baker has fallen in love and becomes euphoric in the news of her pregnancy -  believing her 17-year-old boyfriend will love her more as the mother of his child. 

But like rain without substance, her melodic joy becomes lugubrious when she learns her boyfriend has abandon.  She prays in the whimpering of a lost child and tears that fall from a broken-heart brings wisdom to an undeveloped mind and strength to a feeble child as eyes once closed are opened to her situation �" one of six siblings in a two-bedroom apartment and her bed the sullied carpet.  

 Surroundings she once saw as comfortable has become bothersome and raised a consciousness that ignited her motivation to escape the clutches of poverty.  Five months later in a newfound maturity given by the cry of faith, Yvonne gave birth in the hope that her son named Mister will break the family cycle of generational welfare.            

Protecting him from the unscrupulous role models that plague communities decimated by poverty and violence, she instilled from his infancy the values that guided him to avoid the waywardness of the streets and the personal leadership to resist peer pressure.  Under strict guidance, Mister grew with education as the priority and became an honor roll student every quarter.        

In a place where children control their parents and the elderly are often disrespected by youth, Mister isn’t one of them, neither hangs around them.  His life is schoolwork and basketball. 

At 9-years-old, Mister joined a 10 & under AAU basketball team, and his height and skills to play every position attracted college scouts fascinated by his Phenom talent.  The future stood bright for Mister and his mother worked everything in her power to keep his future bright.     

 One evening when Yvonne was home alone in her apartment provided by the welfare system �" rapid knocks on her door interrupted a phone conversation with her son who is staying the weekend with his great-grandmother.  Wondering whose knocking so vigorously, she abruptly ended the call and asked in her pleasant nature, “Who is it?”

“It’s me baby. How are you?  I missed you.”

The sound of Justin’s voice, Mister’s father, hadn’t been heard in years and isn’t a pleasant sound to her ears �" but Yvonne opened the door with the safety latch attached and asked precariously, “What do you want Justin?”

“Wow!  You’ve gotten prettier.  A real chocolate beauty.  I missed you baby.  Open up…I wanna see my son.” he said heartfelt.  

“Why?” she asked dispassionately. 

 “Why you frontin (slang for pretending).  You know you miss me.  Let me in baby.”

“Nah…ain’t nothing here for you.”   

“What!  My son’s here.  B***h �" let me in so I can see my son.”

“I ain’t your b***h.  You better go before I call the police.”

“Wait baby…I’m sorry.  I’ve been locked up for seven years and I miss you.  I just want to talk to you and see my son.  Don’t let me stand out here in the hall talking to you.  Let me in so I can see my son…then I’ll go.”

“He’s not here…and why is he so important to you now?  When I told you I was pregnant, you dogged me.  You remember what you said?  I haven’t forgot.  You said that baby ain’t mine.  Then you called me, young and dumb and full of cum �" laughing at me in front of your boys.  You remember that?”

“I’m sorry baby.  I was high and s**t.  I was young and stupid...but I’ve changed.  I matured in the joint.  I stopped smoking trees (slang for marijuana).  I’m out of the game now.  I’m looking for an honest job.  I love you Yvonne.  I’ve always loved you baby.  I want us to start over.  I know you remember the good times we had.”  

“I’m sorry Justin, but you’re not my type.”

“Your type.  What the f**k you mean I’m not your type!”

“You not my type.  The girl you knew is a woman now…and you’re not the man she wants in her life.”

“B***h, you the same freak (slang for promiscuous) that like to roll with big dicks.  Stop frontin.  Let me in.” 

Yvonne smirked at his words, resenting the foolishness of her youth and said, “You’re still a big boy in a man’s body.  Bye Justin.  I will pray for you.”

“I don’t need your prayers.  Tell me where I can find my son before I kick this f*****g door-in!”

Expecting Justin might attempt to force his way inside �" before she opened the door, Yvonne grabbed a sharp chef knife from out of a silverware collection given to her as a housewarming gift �" and when he threatened to barge-in, she showed the knife, saying, “If you force your way into my house, I’m gonna kill you.” 

Seeing the seriousness in her eyes, he tried to pretend he wasn’t afraid and said, “So you gonna stab me now?  You think I’m scared?  B***h, I’ve faced men with shanks.  You don’t scare me.  Open the f*****g the door before I kick this m**********r in.” 

Yvonne shut the door and turned the deadbolt as Justin stood startled �" stun by the ease in-which she turned him away.  He paused for three seconds staring at the door �" thinking about his next move, before yelling in his obstinate mentality, “B***h, I’m gonna see my son.” 

Yvonne stood quiet behind the door with her ears listening intently for the comfort of hearing Justin leave.  As she stayed quiet with the knife clutched tightly in her hand, she could feel Justin waiting outside her door as if she will open.   Seconds later, he yelled, “I’m gonna kick your a*s when I catch you on the street.   You f****n ho (slang for w***e).” 

Yvonne stayed silent.  Her mind pondering on how to keep Justin away from Mister.  A new stress was added to her life.  Another problem to solve among the many already.   

When Yvonne heard the sauntering footsteps of Justin exiting the building, she ran to the phone in a fear kept hidden and informed her grandmother to keep Mister inside. 

“What’s wrong?” her grandmother asked feeling the edginess in her granddaughter’s voice. 

“Justin’s looking for him.”

“Justin’s out?  Why he looking for Mister.  He told everyone that Mister ain’t his son.”

“Yeah but I think he heard about the college scouts.”

“OH.  Okay.  I’ll keep him in the house.” 
           

The next morning when Yvonne picked-up her son, she didn’t tell Mister that his father came looking for him and she didn’t see Justin again �" because after he left her building, he was killed later that night when he was caught cheating in a dice game. 

When she heard the news of his death, she felt the sting of sadness �" because under all of his thuggish mentality she saw a good person lost in translation and cried for him.  But she didn’t tell Mister that Justin is his father.                    

  As the days of Yvonne’s life continued in the hope of her dreams, she attended a nightclub with Cynthia, her best friend since the age of 6, to celebrate Cynthia’s 24^th birthday.        

Sitting at a four person table in a nightclub well-known as a singles meeting ground, they are scouring the place discreetly as women do, looking for a single man that attracts their selective eye �" when the beat of “Billie Jean” by Michael Jackson impulses their movement to the dance floor with each other as the partner. 

They are happily bouncing in the latest dance moves when a tall-dark and mysterious man in a military uniform smoothly steps in-between to dance with Yvonne. 

Her private thoughts become �" “Where did he come from?  I didn’t notice him when I was scanning the room.”  But as out of the shadows of others he appeared gazing at her with his magnetic eyes in the silkiness of his movements that heightened the attraction of a man in uniform.  Yvonne responded to his handsomeness with the brightness of her eyes to confirm a mutual attraction as smiles brightened both faces. 

Cynthia became a forgotten dance partner, but continued while Yvonne and this enigmatic man flirted in thoughts reflecting on their faces.  When the song ended in the beat of another, the man of mystery introduced himself as Cedric Williams and escorted Yvonne back to her table, while Cynthia having found a new dance partner remained on the floor.

As Yvonne and Cedric sat the table poignant in attraction, surrounded by loud music and indistinct conversations, he asked, “Are you single?”

“Yes…but I have a 9-year-old son.”

“What’s his name?” 

“Mister.”

“Mister.  That’s a cool name.  I have a 4-year-old daughter back home in Mississippi.  Her name is Erin.”

“Erin is a pretty name.”

Curious to learn the status of his relationship with the mother, she asked with an inquiring mind, “Are you involved with the mother of your daughter?” 

Knowing the reason for the question, he answered �"

“I love the mother of my daughter…we’re very good friends…but I’m not in love with her and she isn’t in love with me.  No matter what happens between us, I will always be a part of my daughter’s life.  I believe a father’s role is to support his child emotionally and financially regardless of his relationship with the mother.” 

Feeling good about his answer, she continued to pick his brain and asked, “Why did you join the military?” 

In a look of regret he said �"

“I joined to escape the slums of Mississippi...a state where slavery still exists in the backwoods.  I joined to support my daughter, because the only jobs in Mississippi for a black man without a degree is washing dishes and cleaning toilets.  I thought the military was my escape from poverty, but I quickly learned the only way for a non-athlete black man to escape poverty is with a good education or entrepreneurship.  I’m dreaming of starting my own business one day.” 

“What business would you open?” she asked inquisitively �" looking into the dreaminess of his eyes that sparkled brown satin.   

“A distributor of gold.  I believe I can convince the Nigerians to enter into a partnership to sell their gold below market price.  Then I’ll sell it to the Europeans at market price.” 

“Why would the Nigerians sell their gold to you below market price?” she asked to learn.  

“The white man is raping Africa for materials to make his planes and ships…maybe I can be the liaison to help Africa reap resources from this country.

That is one of my dreams.  Everything that anyone has created or accomplished started with a dream.  Dreams come true with potential and the will to succeed, but you must have the potential. 

If your dream is to be a professional basketball player and you don’t have the potential which is the talent, you need to follow another dream. 

If your dream is to become a lawyer and you don’t take the educational steps necessary to become a lawyer, then you’re just daydreaming and fooling yourself.”  

Yvonne looked at Cedric with high interest �" imagining the possibility of his dream and said, “My son is my dream.  I might not escape poverty, but I’m determined for him to escape and never return.” 

“That’s good.  You should live for what will be, remembering what has been, and knowing what is.”    

Struck by those profound words, she asked the meaning and he answered philosophically �"

“Reality surpasses actuality.  Your current situation isn’t your reality, but your actuality.  Actuality is yesterday and today �" but reality is yesterday, today, and tomorrow.  We might not live to see tomorrow, but tomorrow will come, so we need to prepare today for tomorrow.” 

Yvonne looked at Cedric and saw a very intelligent and charismatic man.  Cedric saw a strong and very insightful woman. 

As they continued in a conversation without allowing anything current to interrupt, they discovered lots in common, from the things they like to do in their leisure to their views on religion and politics.  Strangers no more, they began dating regularly and their relationship grew quickly as Cedric became a fixture in the life of Mister and filled the void of a father-figure.    

Yvonne has fallen in love for the first time as a woman, but kept her feelings secret.  Although the signs are clear that Cedric feels the same, like a wise woman, she waited for him to share his feelings.  Five months from the day they first met �" Cedric proposes and Yvonne gleefully accepts �" they make plans to wed when Cedric returns from a six-month deployment in Lebanon.  

What begins for most as a slow process came rapidly for them, as they quickly fell in love by seizing the moments that mirrored love when they talked, when they looked at each-other, and when they thought about one-another.  Not only did they love each other, but most importantly, they liked each other.    

Six weeks after his deployment, Yvonne learns she’s pregnant and eagerly tries to contact Cedric to share the good news, but is unable to reach him. 

She writes letters without reply as the weeks pass in silence.   Her worry turns to fear �" then to grieving when she learns from one of his comrades that Cedric has died in a gun battle with extremists.   

A life that had turned into the stages of fulfilling a dream was crushed by the reality of death.  Sobbing with choking tears at the rancid news, Yvonne laid straddled on her bed in fond memories of Cedric that brought an abundance of more tears.    

Mister, hearing the loud and unyielding cries from his mother, ran into her room with his eyes flooded in a face befuddled.  Laying his tall thin body on top of his mother, his baffled face becomes waterworks.  He doesn’t know the reason for his mother’s tears �" he’s crying because she’s crying.  The harder she cried, the tighter he held her, before saying words that Cedric had told him to remember when bad things happen �" “There is a positive side to every negative thing.” 

Yvonne found a comfort when the words were spoken from the mouth of her 10-year-old son.  She felt an inspiration like none before �" and in her sweltering eyes, turned to hug her son in this moment of sadness.        

Hearing the whispers of memories from the emptied space in her heart, she tells her son that Cedric has died and his tears becomes personal. 

With his mouth gasping from an overflow of tears, he struggles to ask, “Why my father die mommy?” 

She holds her son tighter �" kissing the top of his head as he lays his weeping eyes on her breast in a slumped body looking to escape the feeling at hand.  

Realizing her son needs to be comforted, she holds back her tears and speaks the same words he had spoken to comfort her �" before saying, “I’m pregnant.”   

When Mister heard pregnant, his slumped body quickly lifted up and his tears of sadness turned to tears of joy, as he felt the impact of understanding the positive side of a negative thing.   

Excited about a brother or sister, he gently laid his well-groomed head on the unnoticeable bulge in his mother’s stomach and fell asleep in that position, as Yvonne contemplated on how to solve the new challenge in her life. 

But she welcomed the challenge of raising another child alone �" because in her womb is the last life of the first man she truly loved. 

 

END OF CHAPTER ONE

 

 

Author's Note

Please share your honest thoughts. If the story is boring or the writing poor, please tell me.. It will only help. Thank you!

Reviews

[bob, small b. aka invs]

this story needs a good editing. i get the impression english is not your primary language. there are a lot of errors in verb tenses and pronouns and a lot of problems with punctuation. i would suggest finding someone to edit it before you consider sending it to agents or publishers.

[Cornelius]

RT

Thank you for the review. I see your points and agree. I like the narrator style but I need to add action to the telling and reduce some of the telling. Curious to know what you think about the 2nd draft. Should be posted by Friday.

Thanks again

[RT]

You have a strong subject matter. One that has great potential, once you get the basic grammar, etc. that others have spoken about under control.

My biggest suggestion is to get rid of the "telling". I think that your best parts are the action, not the dry narrator style. That is where I would focus.

The other issue that I have is that basic wording of the narrator seems forced. The use of big words put in awkwardly. But that may be cleaned up once you have done a re-write.

But everyone has to start with a rough draft. Get the thoughts down, and then it is time to "fix" it.

Please feel free to let me know when the 2nd draft is done and I would like to see it.

Keep writing - you have elements that show you have some potential there.

[Cornelius]

WritersCafeMembers

I want to thank all of the reviewers below. Your input has shaped me to understand the art of writing. I've learned the mechanics and elements needed for published work and is currently revising all chapters to stay within the storyline but enhance the areas of weakness identified in your feedback.

I'm not a English major so I will have the work edited. Besides that, please share your opinion with the revised first chapter is posted sometime next week.

Special Thanks to every Reviewer below! Artists are one...and what separates artists isn't talent but exposure. Just because you are not published doesn't mean your work isn't as good as a published author. Your work might actually be better!

Peace and Love - keep writing! Keep trying! Keep believing!

[Cornelius]

Rayengog,

Thank you so much

[Raynedog]

You wanted some feedback but first, a word about feedback, mine in particular. I can only tell you what I would like. That’s it, just one person. I’m not a subject matter expert, I’ve never been published, I don’t have an English degree, and I don’t work in the literary industry. I’m just an artist commenting on someone else’s art and representing the random thoughts of only one person who may not even be in your target audience or your target reader. So, what follows is honest, but again, just the random opinion of one person.
Don’t tell me its slang, I get it and if I don’t get it then it lends to the tone of the story and the setting. I should feel a little out of place here. I’ll explain by saying I didn’t grow up in the environment the story is set in but some people have. To the people that have it should have an authentic realism, for those who didn’t, it should be a world where they might not understand everything they see and hear.
During the hallway argument I feel that the tension is rising around them as well but you don’t mention it. Is either worried about the neighbors calling the cops? Do they have no fear of involvement because this is a common sound around there, the bubbling of family violence in the hallway? What’s that argument doing to the atmosphere of the scene?
OK so let me approach the next bit delicate as I can but it’s relevant so I feel like I want to mention it. The voice being used to narrate the tale sounds like it’s coming from a perspective of someone who is not a minority talking about poor minorities. I think there is some value in picking one or the other.
My feedback is to either have the narrator be a fish out of water, play up the (slang for) threads, add in more somewhat needless explanation like a ton of disapproval for entailment living, or a bleeding heart look at this tragedy or, have the narrator just roll thought unapologetic and fill force forward don’t pull any punches and take us in to what it’s like to be in the situation these characters are in.
Try starting the chapter with misters father’s death and frame the first entire part around being the club. So I guess what I’m saying is personally I think it makes sense that the chapter starts with her in the club going over the news of the death of misters father and the events while the club scene escalates to the meeting of the new guy.
It gives you the opportunity to start the frame of her child’s father’s death as a bad thing that you found out is a good thing and she thinks so, or doesn’t think so, or is indifferent or whatever. It also gives you a mirror for the death of Cedric as the reader will be able to contrast the two reactions.
The chapter in my feeling ends with the revelation that Cedric is dead so I’d get all the other information about misters feelings on the baby in there and perhaps it might be the reader and mister finding out about the baby at the same time? Just an alternative thought.
Also, I’d like to ask you, are you afraid? I ask because you’re holding back. I sense an almost apologetic reluctance to indulge us in the details. You flirt with telling us about the carpet in a way that would gross us out but then don’t. This isn’t boring, this isn’t horrible, but this isn’t your best. Let it fly and don’t apologize or worry.
You’re likely to rewrite this a hundred more times between now and publish so just go after it and don’t pull back or apologize or tip toe. The longer the chapter goes on you loosen up and particularly in the dialog you certainly are not afraid of the sharp edges. You’ll let these imaginary charterers be bold on the page but the world you paint for them has the corners tucked away like you’re afraid of something, don’t be, it’s good, I’m begging you to let it out a bit more.
I think the story needs to get some sequence remixing like I mentioned above. It seems the three things that happen are birth of mister, death of misters father, death of misters step dad, so it feels like to me those three events should sort of frame act 1,2,3 in the chapter.

[Cornelius]

BobM

You are a blessing for me!

[Cornelius]

N

Thank you so much for your review. Extremely helpful. I appreciate and agree with every word. You helped me a lot.

Thanks!

[N]

So the beginning works well. Yvonne is believable, lot of 14 years old kid decide to keep a child because they're naive and hopeful and hang onto motherhood as the ultimate goal of their lives. But from the moment the dialogue begins...It all goes downhill. The reactions aren't believable whatsoever and the words forced. Justin's death seem weird, abrupt and too lucky. Yvonne considering her life is too unsuspicious when she meets the military man. And the reaction of the kid when he dies? Tears of sadness become tears of joy at the pregnancy news? Also hard to believe. But I agree with the others, it does have potential.

[BobM]

I sincerely hope that this is intended to be a summary of your novel, because that's what this is. The basic premise is interesting, and would certainly pass as acceptable if employed correctly. But assuming that this is the actual content and intended to be the first chapter of your novel, the issue here is that even though you have a good idea, you have not executed it well.

Rather than dwell on the syntactical elements of your writing, I will summarize the reasons that it is poor prose. However, I have to mention the fact that you need to decide whether you are writing in the past or present tense, and stick with it. The narrator is all over the place in this aspect. Additionally, there are random quotation marks floating around for no apparent reason. Why?

The point I want to make, now, is why your story is ineffective. Firstly, there is zero characterization. What little we gleam about Yvonne is what the narrator directly tells us, which can be fine, but not in this case. In this case, the narrator does not lead us with details, memories, flashbacks, examples, interactions, or anything else. The narrator simple tells us that a character is this, and gives no reason whatsoever of why or how. In in order to establish dimensional characters with credibility, it is necessary to provide why and how a character acts, not just what the character is. This is true for every character, especially in a novel. Yvonne is arguably the most characterized character in the story, despite having very little characterization. The other characters are practically flat. I know absolutely nothing about what droves the son, or the boyfriend, or Cedric, besides a vague description of their interests and appearances. In order to have a successful and effective story, this needs to be resolved.

Secondly, the dialogue is unnatural. When you write dialogue, you should ask yourself how people talk in real life. I want you to know that I am not referring to the slang language- that is completely feasible and adds dimension to the story. What I mean is that the characters' speech patterns are jerky and unrealistic in the way that they progress and resolve. Additionally, it is absurd to include parenthesized definitions of the slang words. Not only is it insulting to the reader, who gleams that you don't trust him to figure out the context of the word himself, but it detracts from the immersion of the story. Adding footnotes is one thing, but this is unacceptable.

Thirdly, and the last point I will make here, is that the plot is practically a straight line. There is no explanation or expansion on the deaths of the boyfriend and Cedric, and no detail of the son's school career. You have simply told us what happened. A good plot doesn't just state the main points of the plot- that's what cliffnotes do. A good story utilizes the plot to bring the reader into its realm, immersing the reader with a word-for-word account of what is happening. In short stories, this can be less detailed at times, but detailed with reasons why and how things are happening all the same. You claim that this is a novel, which means that you have more than enough room to describe, at least, the main occurrences in greater detail.

If the rest of your book is in this state, then I suggest you do some serious revising. I don't mean to offend, but this is not publishable material.

However, I recognize the potential in your idea. The basic ideas that you're trying to express are ones that could very well sell books. But only if you refine your technique and better the execution of your story. So I hope that my criticism does not disappoint you or keep you from trying again, because I don't mean to spurn you. I only want to spur you on to keep writing, and to make your story the best it can be.

[Cornelius]

Thank you bob. I appreciate your honest feedback. Very helpful. I am aware the writing needs editing. I will make sure it is edited before I move forward. Thanks!