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Jenny

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short story, fantasy, fiction, horror, mystery
1st
Draft

Published on:

April 24, 7:47am

Word Count:

1157

Work Description

Something I wrote back in 2006 for a Creative Writing assignment. All this came from a simple picture. I actually creeped myself out writing this one. And my teacher too.

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Jenny

By Mark Allen, Jr.

 

            ‘Jenevivve,’ she heard in her head.

            Oh no. Not again, Jenny thought to herself. Please go away. Please…

            ‘Jenny! Can you hear me?’ the voice continued.

            ‘What do you want?’ She answered using the technique He had taught her. She was very scared now.

            ‘Ah, there you are,’ the voice said foxily. ‘You know what I want.’

            ‘Please, no. I’m just letting him paint my picture! He hasn’t done anything wrong, he’s just painting. Just let him paint, please.’ She sat, trying hard not to move from her spot, lest the painting be ruined.

            ‘Yes, Jenny,’ the voice replied. ‘He’s just painting. But do you know why he’s painting you?’

            She physically shook her head. “Miss,” the painter said, “would you please not move?”

            “Sorry.”

            ‘No, Jenny? Well, I’ll tell you. He’s painting you because he likes you. He likes your body.’

            ‘No!’

            ‘Yes he does. He’s thinking of you just like I do.’

            ‘That’s not true!!’

            ‘It’s exactly true, Jenny. You’re a tool. A tool for me to collect and a tool that’s going to make him famous.’

            “You’re lying!!” she screamed out loud. “Please get out of my head! I don’t want to do this anymore! Please!!”

            “Miss, are you alright? What’s wrong?” The painter put down his brush and began taking off his apron. Concern was written all over his face.

            ‘Oh, but I can’t do that yet, Jenny.’ The voice laughed sinisterly. ‘We still have three more to collect. After all, you signed the contract.’

            She was now standing in the corner, her back to the painter. She crammed her hands over her ears in a vane attempt to block out the voice. ‘Please, not him! He’s so nice.’

            ‘So nice?’ The voice was amused by the little girl’s naiveté. ‘So nice. Heh heh. He has two wives and several little girls in his bed, and you call him nice? Jenny, you poor, twisted little girl.’

            No! He’s coming closer, she thought as she heard the painter’s irregular steps cross the room.

            “Miss, are you okay?” He touched her arm to turn her around, and she winced away from his hand.

            “Yes, I’m fine. Thank you.” She moved back to the chair with a mask of only slight discomfort on her face. Inside she felt torn to bits by a sharp razor.

            ‘Jenny, Jenny, Jenny.’ The voice was back in her head. ‘Don’t tell me you forgot about our deal? I keep you safe, and you collect for me. Now I’ve done my part of the bargain.’

            ‘Yes, I know, but–’

            ‘No buts, Jenny. The deal was thirteen. No less, no more. Well, not unless you want to.’ The voice laughed at His own joke. Then He became serious again. ‘Thirteen, Jenny. That’s three more than what you have so far. So he makes eleven.’

            ‘Please don’t make me do this!’ She squirmed a little in her chair again.

            ‘Jenny, I’m beginning to lose patience with you.’ The voice became harsher.

            “Miss,” the painter interjected, “please don’t move.”

            “I’m sorry,” she said aloud, but her mind was screaming RUN! Please run!

            ‘You see, Jenny? He’s losing his patience with you, too. And I don’t believe you heard what I asked you to do. Kill him! Kill the painter!’

            ‘No! Please, God, no!’

            ‘Oh I’m not God, Jenny. Not even close!’

            The painter put his brush down. “There. All done now. You can get up if you’d like.”

            ‘Ha! Stupid little painter doesn’t even know what’s coming to him! Kill him now, Jenny!’ She tried her hardest to stay down on the seat, hands clamped over her ears again, but it didn’t help. ‘Don’t you disobey me!’ She pulled her hands down and looked at the painter’s back, hoping that he would

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Discussion

 

 I am an extremely big fan of horror and very much enjoyed your story. The dialogue is done very well and is very believable, inside of her head and with the painter. You did a wonderful job of distinguishing the voice in her head, from her own voice in her head and the painter's voice. It was a sequence that could have been very confusing and you did a wonderful job. You left it open, what she was doing it for, why a little ten year old was to kill thirteen and if the "Voice" was actually gonna let her go after reaching her number. That worked for me, not all stories have to have all the loose ends tied up.

Your writing style is very strong and unfortunately that's where I have a negative comment- 

 The painter screamed and began to flop around the floor.

Everything before and after was so strong that this sentence just seems extremely flat, weak compared to the rest of the story. I also appreciate the use of the color red, though instead of pointing out her eyes are red and the paint on the floor is red, you might want to use a different shade of red-crimson, auburn...

I did enjoy your story, thank you.

Opening Comments

This was very well done. I could almost feel the voice inside my head as I read it. The emotions were strong.

Plot

Interesting plot idea with the young girl and the murdering. The only question left in my mind, though, is why did she sell her soul to the Devil?

Description

The imagery and symbolism was well used. Red the predominant color-just like blood. Well done.

Closing Comments

This was very well written as I stated earlier. The suspense was quick, but only becuase the story was short. The ending led to a possible second story for the twelfth killing.

     I really enjoyed the mood of this work.   From the very opening of the story,  I could really feel the sense of unease.  Also I feel that the nature of the voice was vague enough to be real or the product of insanity, giving the story another layer of depth.  I only have a few miner points that i feel could be improved:

‘Jenevivve,’ she heard in her head.

The name is usually spelled "Genevieve" .  Since it is a Proper name it really could be spelled any way, but the unusual spelling you used is jarring to the reader.

She did as she was told, and tears started rolling down her cheeks. Why am I doing this? I’m only ten. How can I even think about doing this? Why…? She paused even in mid-thought. Why do I want to kill him?

 

until this point the girls age is in question, I thought she was in her mid to late teens at least, perhaps her age should be established earlier in order to make her plunge into insanity more dramatic, perhaps even a section describing her looks or the painting that the artist is creating, so the reader would better be able to visualize the murderous little girl.

 

The painter screamed and began to flop around the floor.

The imagery here was weak.  After the vividness of the earlier sections, this was a letdown.  The death should be fleshed out a bit more, perhaps describing the patterns the blood makes on the still drying painting?

 

In general I really liked it, it has a lot of potential and the characters seemed real to me.

This is a fine little slice o' horror you have here, and the best part is, you don't explain everything. The twisted possibilities are what make it so much fun. Now I hack it to pieces 

Adverbs are rarely necessary, and they tend to sound childish. "Foxily" and "Sinisterly" jumped out at me as the oddest. Try always to take out the adverbs and then read your sentences without them to see if it's absolutely necessary to what you're trying to say. If it is, try to write it a different way.

lest the painting be ruined.

Watch out for archaic stuff like this. If it fits the whole of your writing, you might be all right, but usually it sounds pretentious or out of place. Also, I don't think it's so imperative that subjects of portraits never move a muscle, but that's not my field, so I'll shut up about it. But maybe look into it.

“Miss,” the painter said, “would you please not move?”

The painter keeps calling Jenny "Miss". She's ten years old, and wouldn't he know her name anyway? It's very formal. Also, when I first read this line, I thought he was being a bit harsh and cold; now that I know the girl's age, he's just a bastard.

began taking off his apron.

These are bad habits of every writer; you just have to train your eye to notice them. Look out for passive sentences, and try to make your phrases more active. This line could have read "took off his apron", and it would have been more active and better to read.

a vane attempt

"a vain attempt"

the painter’s irregular steps cross the room.

"irregular" puts an image of the hunchback of Notre Dame in mind.

No less, no more. Well, not unless you want to.

This dude needs to make up his mind. I was stuck on this for a second, wondering "not unless you want to what? ...oh, the 'more' part." He could say "No less, but more is fine" or just stick with "No less, no more", but the iffiness makes it seem like there's no real point.

I’m only ten. How can I even think about doing this?

This is very unnatural. Would she really think that?

like one who had used such an object before.

We already know she's used it before; this seems redundant.

the mess on the floor that had been the painter.

My favorite line in the whole story. Very twisted.

Sorry, I feel I've hacked your beautiful story into bloody bits. They're just my opinions, and I say them as I think them. Heed them or toss them, you're the writer    It was a fun read!

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