August 31, 2010, 12:23 pm
Okay this is just a rough draft, but I would love some feedback and tips on how to improve my writing. Thanks
“Sold!” The moment that wooden mallet struck the table my fate was sealed. Fear washed through my veins, and I feared the tough, impassive wall I had built so carefully around me might crumble at any second. Sold! That hateful word rang in my ears as I willed myself to lift my head and lay eyes upon my new master. Sold! And just like that I was another's possession. I no longer owned the clothes on my back, nor the small bundle of items I clutched between trembling fingers. No, I no longer even owned myself.
I noticed the eyes of my new master analyzing me, as subtlety I ventured to do the same. This proved not to be simple task. His eyes, an icy-blue, were the most penetrating I had ever seen. Nonchalantly, I glanced up. His face, I decided looked… stern, but not malicious, not like Tiran’s. Short and solid he carried a bit of extra weight, underneath which I noticed a discernible bulk of muscle. It was an angry scar, that ran from the corner of his left eye to his chin in a jagged line, that immediately caught my attention though. What could an injury that thick and deep have come from? This thought both intrigued and disturbed me.
I had no further time to ponder this, as just then he raised a large hand, motioning for me to follow. Red and rough, they confused me. His hands didn’t look like those of someone afraid of work, someone interested in owning slaves. Now, walking behind my new master a terrifying thought hit me. I remembered hearing stories of men purchasing wives after finding no one to take their hand willingly. Of course these things only happened in distant, uncivilized lands, right? But still… The fact that this man was neither young nor attractive was not comforting.
Finally after an eternity of silence I heard him speak for the first time. He pronounced each word stiffly in a cold, gravelly voice that somehow managed to sound almost as if it pained him to speak.
“What is your name?”
“M-my name” He had caught me off guard and my voice wavered. Remember, you are stone. Cold, emotionless stone.(This part was Italicized)
“Yes, what do I call you.” His patience was wearing
“Larkspur… my name is Larkspur”
The word I had so hastily blurted wasn’t a rational name, or even one I had ever heard before. It certainly wasn’t my name. Larkspur was simply the first thing that had popped into my head, which for some unknown reason seemed to jump from my mouth without bothering to consult me.
An expression I couldn’t quite identify, flickered across his face.
