So I decided to take a chance and actually post the first scene of this year's NaNoWriMo novel right here on my blog. A few notes on this scene and the story as a whole: My main character's final line is the line that popped into my head about a month ago. I wrote this scene to keep it from coming back. The names I used are just what I decided on at a moment's notice; I may change them in edit. This scene is unedited, so all misspellings and grammatical errors have remained.
He got in the car, setting the box on the passenger seat. The rain started falling down heavier now, leaving the street with a light glazing make just a bit slick. He pulled out of the parking lot and went on his way to work. He turned on his windshield wipers, keeping the rain from blocking his vision. The lights of cars coming from the other direction refracted in the windshield and he squinted to see where he was going. This had been the third straight day of rain and the wet roads along with the leaves stuck to it made driving difficult.
He turned the corner onto a side street and the lights of an oncoming car became brighter and brighter, making it very difficult to see where he was going. He pulled toward the right hand curb, but the car in the opposite lane seemed to be bearing down on him. He hit the brakes and allowed the car to pass. The lights were blinding him now and that was all he remembered.
"Tap, tap, tap." He awoke with a jerk, unable to see anything, unable to open his eyes. "Tap, tap, tap."
"Where…? Who…?" He whimpered. He suddenly realized that he was terrible pain and could barely move without feeling a sharp pain in stomach. He tried to open his eyes again, but again, he was unable.
"Young man," a muffled voice said, "are you okay?" He moved his head slightly and tried to speak, but his throat felt swollen and closed. There was a sound of metal on metal.
A rush of cold air and the sound of rending steel startled him as he felt a cold, wet hand on throat. "His pulse is thready, we have to get him to the hospital now." The voice sounded urgent.
Another voice spoke, "I know him, he's friends with my brother, his name is Scott Palmer. They went to school together." The voice didn't sound familiar. Nothing sounded familiar or even felt familiar. "EMTs are on their way, I'll call his mother."
"No, don't tell her. I don't want to worry her or anything, just let me keep this to myself." Scott tried to speak, but all his ears heard were squeaks and whimpers. He tried to move, but was met with a concerned voice.
"Scott, it's Dave, Sean's brother. Now listen, bud, you're hurt. You're hurt really bad, but you're going to make it through this. I need you to stay still for a little while longer and the EMTs are going to help you out." He felt a large hand on his shoulder and he suddenly felt a bit more relaxed.
"I can't see," he squeaked out, "I want to see what's going on."
"I think it would be better if you just kept your eyes shut until the EMTs get here, Scott. It's a bit of a mess right now."
"Don't tell my mom about the car, she'll kill me," he said, starting to cry. The tears began to loosen whatever was holding his closed. He blinked his eyes and eventually they opened slightly. He felt the hand move from his shoulder to his forehead, as if he wasn't supposed to look down. He saw that the box that was in the passenger seat was now overturned on the floor. He saw a red substance on the upholstery and sighed. "I'm going to die, ain't I?"
"No, you're going to be fine," Dave said, "you just have to relax. That's just donut jelly on the seat."
"I can't die. I can't." He started to cry, "It can't end like this, I got the donuts." He whimpered that last line and that was all he could remember. He didn't know if he was alive or dead or somewhere in between. He saw nothing. No bright lights, no darkness, nothing.
This is the first time I have attemted human drama as a novel project. The rest of this story deals with Scott's life nine years later after he wakes up from his coma.