Edit: [534 words, sorry forgot!]

Hey all! I'm writing a short story and am looking for the best voice and POV for the content. This intro is a quick read. Specific feedback I'm looking for is....

1. Is the 2nd Person POV too jarring or awkward?
2. Does this do a good job of grabbing your attention for a story of about 4,000-5,000 words?
3. Do you have any strong feelings about where you'd personally like to see the story go from here? I'd like to see if my plan lines up with your thoughts.

Thanks so much in advance!

​

You remember the first Happening came into your life when you were six years old. There you were, hidden away from the world under the safety of your Minnie Mouse comforter that was way too big for your twin bed. The earbuds of your Sony Walkman blasted Kool and the Gang telling you to bring your good times and your laughter too. You wished you felt like laughing, but your parents were fighting in the next room and all you wanted to do was make it stop.

“Just once I wish I could come home and not have you nagging me immediately,” your dad’s voice booms. Let’s all celebrate and have a good time.

“I just can’t take another night of you sitting in front of that TV while I handle everything around here,” mom shouts back. We’re gonna have a good time tonight.

You wanted to run in and tell them to stop. You wanted to make them hug and say they’re sorry like you had learned to do at school. But you weren’t the teacher here and last time dad turned and yelled at you for eavesdropping. So instead, you curled up and you played your music and you prayed that God would make them stop fighting before someone got hurt again. Amen.

Just then, when the yelling was almost louder than your cheap earbuds could protect you from, the foot end of your comforter started to move ever so slightly. You’ll never forget how slowly and carefully it rose, letting just a bit of light into your fortress. You didn’t know what was happening, but you remember recoiling and kicking your little feet as you instinctually moved toward your headboard. That’s when it happened.

Something grabbed your left foot. It felt like a hand wrapped tightly just above the ankle. It was ice cold, and it was grabbing you and it pulled you slowly toward the light that it had let in. You looked where that hand should have been. Nope. Just you, just your ankle, but you were moving, you knew you were sliding away from your headboard and your music and your fortress. Once the shock let go of your lungs, you let out an ear-piercing scream that stopped your parents in mid-conversation. The hand let go, and the blankets fell back over the icy cold ankle.

Your parents both came running into to room and they took you into their arms and they worked together to dry your tears and tell you everything was ok. You pointed at your ankle, and you tried to tell them what happened. Your dad checked the locks on the windows. He checked your closet and underneath your bed and all over that room. He checked until he, and you were convinced that no one else was in there.

The music faintly droned on as your parents held you. Let’s celebrate, it’s all right.

You finally fell asleep with both your mom and dad by your side. They went to their bedroom only once your eyes had closed and you drifted away to whatever dreamland your six-year-old self knew back then. Back in reality, though, there were more fights to come. And there were many, many more Happenings.

​

- TJ Reid