2nd November

Another update - whut? Yes. That's right. I'm not dead. Although my fingers might disagree there, and my poor brain. It's been a long day of writing. I started writing after my uni work at around 2pm, and finished for the day about half an hour ago. How much did I accomplish? Quite a lot. XD

I got it into my head to see if I could hit 20k today, and with a lot of word wars, I did it! I'm very proud of myself, especially because it doesn't feel too much like I'm forcing it. Not like last year. I've enjoyed writing every bit of the novel so far, even if some bits have been tougher than other, and some bits sound like a three year old wrote them. The best part is that the characters are pretty much writing it themselves! My subconscious is coming up with all of these plot twists and turns, and I'm not yet running out of ideas, which is brilliant. As long as it keeps up like this, I'll write as much as possible. 50k in five days is possible so long as I'm enjoying myself like I am right now.

But before I go to bed, I have some stuff to do, so I can't spend too long talking about how awesome I am. :D Unfortunately, I have more reading to do. So now, I'm going to do it. However, here's a little excerpt from the crazy mass of words that poured forth today:

 Jemima started to sing. The verse of some song that Arabella hadn’t heard since her childhood filled the room, Jemima’s voice strangled and shaking. “Doo-doo-a-diddy. Doo-doo-”
   

 “Jemima. Mimi! What’s the matter?”
   

She wouldn’t stop singing. Arabella lowered her onto the floor, leaning her back against the wall of the room, and then taking a deep breath, she stepped into the parlor. The smell, at once, was frightening strong. It was a mix of perfume, strong and bitter, and something else. Something metallic. At first Arabella couldn’t see anything at all. The only lights in the room were the ones in the corner that flickered on and off. Shattered glass was everywhere; she could see it glinting even in the dim light.
    

She could just about make out the shapes of the two large armchairs that Vincent had procured from a colleague after he was deported, and the outline of the fireplace that was so similar to her own. And then she saw it. Deep inside her chest something snapped. A cold, icy dread filled her pores, and suddenly she felt as though she might faint.
    

In the middle of the room there was a wooden chair from the matching kitchen set. Jeanette — for presumably it was she — hadn’t made it out of the apartment. Holding her breath, Arabella took a step closer, and then she saw it. Against the dim backdrop of the delicately adorned parlour, the deep gash in the side of the woman’s neck appeared like a grotesque monster. Dark blood the colour of wine stained the material of her dress, soaking the front and the pleats of the skirts. Her head lolled sadly to one side, and it sickened Arabella to even look. Bile rose in her throat. She swallowed hard and backed out of the room, shaking.
    

Jemima was still sitting on the floor, her hands over her face, rocking back and forth. She continued to hum, but more quietly now. Every few seconds she clapped her fingers over her ears, and then moved them back to her eyes. Back and forth, back and forth.
   

“Mimi, honey…” Arabella could hardly speak. The lump in her throat was the size of a golf ball, felt like it was suffocating her, but anything was better than going back in that room. “Mimi, we need to go. Mimi? Mimi, come on honey.”
   

Eventually the young girl looked up. The shock on her face was reflected in Arabella’s eyes, and she sadly opened her mouth in an ‘o’ shape. Then she started to hum again. She got to her feet, grabbed hold of Arabella’s hand, and began to tug her back out of the apartment. Arabella grabbed the spare clothes that Jemima had dropped in her terror, and they stepped out into the hallway outside without saying another word to each other.
    

Arabella couldn’t explain it, but the horror of what she had seen had been more than just absorbed by the both of them. She felt like this monstronsity was sitting inside of her, and she was unable to tame it. One second she imagined simply running, screaming, crying — and the next she couldn’t imagine doing any of those things, all she could see was the blood, the glazed look of panic that had been ingrained into Jeanette’s dying face. Her slack jaw, her wide frightened eyes. Just one look at Jemima told her that she could feel the same monster clawing inside of her.
    

Once they were out on the sidewalk they stopped. Jemima dropped to her knees and vomited, wretching so hard that gave herself a slight nose bleed. Arabella picked her from the floor and wrapped her arms around her, unable to offer her any more comfort than this. Together they stood in silence for a long while, until the lights around them dimmed well into the evening, and they were left with nothing but a cold, pale glow.

Words written today: 12,012

Total word count: 20,124