Hey guys, this is Edgar Allen Poe style story me and my best freind wrote for English Class. Tell me what you think! Please dont flame me. *******the neighbor is my English Teacher*********
*******edit*********** i know its long, but i think its well written (its due tommorrow and im bored now)
Screams of Silence
The trees were not yet brown but the weather had turned cold as winter. It seemed as though the cruel Earth had skipped directly from summer to winter, yet no leaves had fallen to the ground. Morose from the violent grieving which beset me during the visit to the grave of my beloved wife, I returned alone to my small Virginia dwelling in an attempt to rid myself of these miserable feelings. I shuffled through my kitchen and sitting parlor directly to the cellar, where I knew I could find momentary relief. After retrieving my bottle, I returned upstairs to my parlor. As the night progressed, I became more and more sullen. The harder I tried to forget my sorrows, the more I thought about my deceased wife. As the vile liquid filled my stomach, heavy emotions overflowed my heart, yet I felt as though I was weightless.
The darkness enveloped me until the knock of the sun pressed hard against my pain-filled eyes. I awoke to find my world exactly as I had left it the previous night: wifeless, heavy, cold and bitter. The first of many peculiar experiences on that dreary day would come when I unbolted my door to the unwelcoming world. A small, shriveled, sorrel stipule drifted through my open doorframe as I walked out into the abyss of existence. That single foliole was the first of many leaves to come crashing down that day, but not all were ready to meet their demise. As I wandered through the brick-laden streets on that black November, morning I noticed various oddities. My neighbor, a lumbering 26-year-old man whose short, black hair gave an appearance of deceit, had shaven his facial hair. I shuffled past the knavish man and continued on, wandering through the forever-small town. Upon reaching my destination, the market, I purchased more remedy, the sweet elixir that could carry me through another tumultuous night. My mind stirred with thoughts of my lifeless wife until a commotion snapped my dulled mind to attention. In a nearby home, a neighbor had been discovered, and absent was her beating. The news had disquieted the citizens, for the town’s size was miniscule and self-contained and events as catastrophic as this had wings and claws. I left the store with my items and returned home. The ground crackled and the grey rain plummeted toward the ground as I prodded along the unevenly paved road toward my quieted home. Ever so slightly the world continued to crash down around me.
In my melancholy state, I did not care for the implications of the succeeding eventful nights. Had I not been so vigilant, my heart would beat no longer. The night after the first leaf fell, a scream of terror filled the streets. Deafening silence filled the void when the screech finally halted. The only sound I heard that night after what must have been the death throes of some poor gentleman was my neighbor’s door shutting. At first, I did not recognize that my neighbor’s nightly activity had heavy implications. The following night mimicked the first, except my neighbor’s door shut twice, not once. Each day, I lived as though invisible, yet each night I heard as though I was present. My attempts to escape were futile, despite the strength of my relief liquid. Screams of terror, agony, and death filled my ears. Upon the seventh night after the first leaf fell, I heard no screams. On this deafeningly quiet night I felt no need to escape. I wanted to live. I wanted to hear. Presently a loud dull sound projected itself from the outside abyss. I heard this sound from afar yet it seemed so close. I remembered hearing my neighbor’s door open, for my senses were heightened due to my attentive state of mind. Fearing it was my deceitful neighbor who was causing the screams of agony, I ran to my door. Once again I heard the dull pounding sound. The sound grew until its vibrations could be felt through the cold stone floor. The noise approached my being. I accosted the invisible assailant to press out the threatening sound. After a few frightening, tremulous minutes, my neighbor’s door closed.
I returned to my place of rest and fell upon my bed with a heavy heart, beating tired and weak from overuse. Falling upon my bed, sweaty, cold, and terrified, muddled thoughts crossed my animated mind. Fearing that the nefarious, murderous, scoundrel of a neighbor would return, I listened for the ever-coming footsteps. My frame, emaciated from sorrow, refused to budge from its now paralytic state. As I lay motionless in bed, I concluded that I must end the clean-shaven gentlemen before he ends me. Sleep never came that night, but only flirted with my heavy eyes.
Upon the waking hour, in which the sun had risen above the trees, I arose from my resting place to discover life with a new purpose. With unknown energy and strength, I prepared myself for the daunting task that lay ahead. I protected my home against the unseen enemy while I formulated my plan to end his dastardly life. His death would come at no price for he had caused much suffering amongst the other inhabitants of our quaint village. My neighbor was a quiet, withdrawn man who never spoke. The devious savage never married, so his actions went un-abated. I knew not what pressed the gentleman to follow such a bloody, baneful, brutal path, but I had decided that his actions must be abated. When the sky was the color of the trees, I felt intrepid. After Apollo had fallen behind the dead horizon came my moment to act. I could wait no longer to quell his violent acts. Ever so silently, I moved across my parlor to the wooden door. Fearing that any report would stir the sinister man, I quietly placed my hand up on the metallic knob and released the lever so the door could sway open into the frozen night. Each beat of my bounding footsteps brought forth thunder as I progressed toward the house. Upon reaching his door, I slowly crept inside, inches at a time. To disturb the man may bring his wrath down upon my head as it almost had the night before.
His faded dark green shutters failed to completely eliminate the vibrant light of the full moon, allowing a faint glow to illuminate his otherwise unlit foyer. Keeping my hand tightly wrapped around the doorknob so the unsettling wind wound not close the heavy wooden door, I meticulously plotted his demise. Energy pumped through my veins as I listened for my enemy. I could hear him around the corner of the hall, scratching vigorously at a piece of parchment. Listening to him formulate his plan for my death, I became frantic and scanned the room for anything that could be used to eliminate my foe. Across the room my acute eyes focused on a searing stoker stuck between two sizzling logs. As I pulled the poker from the fiery pit, it displaced a log onto the pediment. My opponent spun around rapidly to observe the disturbance, glaring intently into the area of the glowing fire. Frantically his eyes met with mine, but only for an instant as I pounced on him before an utterance could leave his lips. The searing hot rod crossed his astonished face leaving raw, burning flesh. He screamed in agony as I leapt upon him, branding the singeing shaft into his heaving chest. The stoker punctured just below his ribs, forging a bloody path through his heart and exiting upwards through his back. My enemy fell to the floor, blood spilling down from the orifices that I created. I threw down the poker, still hot from the burning log that withheld it only moments ago, my wrathful hands still shaking, heart beating rapidly, and lungs gasping for air. At this instant I had never felt so fresh and clean, washed of a fearful burden that had dragged me almost six feet into the cold relentless ground. Looking up, still in my stance over my foe, my fascination brought me to peruse his work, which I had cut short in my entrance. I sauntered over to the desk at which my neighbor was previously stationed and placed myself upon the very seat he had sat in. A letter rested on the desktop. After reading it, I learned that it described the feelings of sorrow that my neighbor felt for missing his mother’s birthday. Surprised yet electrified, I continued through his desk, finding nothing but parchment and a quill.
Feeling weary from the night’s events I decided to return to my home for the first true night of rest I would have had in the last week. Before leaving, I placed the corpse near the now smoldering fire pit and spilled the pit’s contents, pouring embers and ashes onto the already disoriented body. Soon, a small flame erupted from a smoldering log and I exited the house. I eagerly entered my house and quickly moved from foyer to bedroom. Sleep rapidly overtook my relaxed eyes, despite the bright orange light emanating from a satisfactory fire burning on a fuel of a wretched home.
****feel free to karma if you liked as well****
*******edit*********** i know its long, but i think its well written (its due tommorrow and im bored now)
Screams of Silence
The trees were not yet brown but the weather had turned cold as winter. It seemed as though the cruel Earth had skipped directly from summer to winter, yet no leaves had fallen to the ground. Morose from the violent grieving which beset me during the visit to the grave of my beloved wife, I returned alone to my small Virginia dwelling in an attempt to rid myself of these miserable feelings. I shuffled through my kitchen and sitting parlor directly to the cellar, where I knew I could find momentary relief. After retrieving my bottle, I returned upstairs to my parlor. As the night progressed, I became more and more sullen. The harder I tried to forget my sorrows, the more I thought about my deceased wife. As the vile liquid filled my stomach, heavy emotions overflowed my heart, yet I felt as though I was weightless.
The darkness enveloped me until the knock of the sun pressed hard against my pain-filled eyes. I awoke to find my world exactly as I had left it the previous night: wifeless, heavy, cold and bitter. The first of many peculiar experiences on that dreary day would come when I unbolted my door to the unwelcoming world. A small, shriveled, sorrel stipule drifted through my open doorframe as I walked out into the abyss of existence. That single foliole was the first of many leaves to come crashing down that day, but not all were ready to meet their demise. As I wandered through the brick-laden streets on that black November, morning I noticed various oddities. My neighbor, a lumbering 26-year-old man whose short, black hair gave an appearance of deceit, had shaven his facial hair. I shuffled past the knavish man and continued on, wandering through the forever-small town. Upon reaching my destination, the market, I purchased more remedy, the sweet elixir that could carry me through another tumultuous night. My mind stirred with thoughts of my lifeless wife until a commotion snapped my dulled mind to attention. In a nearby home, a neighbor had been discovered, and absent was her beating. The news had disquieted the citizens, for the town’s size was miniscule and self-contained and events as catastrophic as this had wings and claws. I left the store with my items and returned home. The ground crackled and the grey rain plummeted toward the ground as I prodded along the unevenly paved road toward my quieted home. Ever so slightly the world continued to crash down around me.
In my melancholy state, I did not care for the implications of the succeeding eventful nights. Had I not been so vigilant, my heart would beat no longer. The night after the first leaf fell, a scream of terror filled the streets. Deafening silence filled the void when the screech finally halted. The only sound I heard that night after what must have been the death throes of some poor gentleman was my neighbor’s door shutting. At first, I did not recognize that my neighbor’s nightly activity had heavy implications. The following night mimicked the first, except my neighbor’s door shut twice, not once. Each day, I lived as though invisible, yet each night I heard as though I was present. My attempts to escape were futile, despite the strength of my relief liquid. Screams of terror, agony, and death filled my ears. Upon the seventh night after the first leaf fell, I heard no screams. On this deafeningly quiet night I felt no need to escape. I wanted to live. I wanted to hear. Presently a loud dull sound projected itself from the outside abyss. I heard this sound from afar yet it seemed so close. I remembered hearing my neighbor’s door open, for my senses were heightened due to my attentive state of mind. Fearing it was my deceitful neighbor who was causing the screams of agony, I ran to my door. Once again I heard the dull pounding sound. The sound grew until its vibrations could be felt through the cold stone floor. The noise approached my being. I accosted the invisible assailant to press out the threatening sound. After a few frightening, tremulous minutes, my neighbor’s door closed.
I returned to my place of rest and fell upon my bed with a heavy heart, beating tired and weak from overuse. Falling upon my bed, sweaty, cold, and terrified, muddled thoughts crossed my animated mind. Fearing that the nefarious, murderous, scoundrel of a neighbor would return, I listened for the ever-coming footsteps. My frame, emaciated from sorrow, refused to budge from its now paralytic state. As I lay motionless in bed, I concluded that I must end the clean-shaven gentlemen before he ends me. Sleep never came that night, but only flirted with my heavy eyes.
Upon the waking hour, in which the sun had risen above the trees, I arose from my resting place to discover life with a new purpose. With unknown energy and strength, I prepared myself for the daunting task that lay ahead. I protected my home against the unseen enemy while I formulated my plan to end his dastardly life. His death would come at no price for he had caused much suffering amongst the other inhabitants of our quaint village. My neighbor was a quiet, withdrawn man who never spoke. The devious savage never married, so his actions went un-abated. I knew not what pressed the gentleman to follow such a bloody, baneful, brutal path, but I had decided that his actions must be abated. When the sky was the color of the trees, I felt intrepid. After Apollo had fallen behind the dead horizon came my moment to act. I could wait no longer to quell his violent acts. Ever so silently, I moved across my parlor to the wooden door. Fearing that any report would stir the sinister man, I quietly placed my hand up on the metallic knob and released the lever so the door could sway open into the frozen night. Each beat of my bounding footsteps brought forth thunder as I progressed toward the house. Upon reaching his door, I slowly crept inside, inches at a time. To disturb the man may bring his wrath down upon my head as it almost had the night before.
His faded dark green shutters failed to completely eliminate the vibrant light of the full moon, allowing a faint glow to illuminate his otherwise unlit foyer. Keeping my hand tightly wrapped around the doorknob so the unsettling wind wound not close the heavy wooden door, I meticulously plotted his demise. Energy pumped through my veins as I listened for my enemy. I could hear him around the corner of the hall, scratching vigorously at a piece of parchment. Listening to him formulate his plan for my death, I became frantic and scanned the room for anything that could be used to eliminate my foe. Across the room my acute eyes focused on a searing stoker stuck between two sizzling logs. As I pulled the poker from the fiery pit, it displaced a log onto the pediment. My opponent spun around rapidly to observe the disturbance, glaring intently into the area of the glowing fire. Frantically his eyes met with mine, but only for an instant as I pounced on him before an utterance could leave his lips. The searing hot rod crossed his astonished face leaving raw, burning flesh. He screamed in agony as I leapt upon him, branding the singeing shaft into his heaving chest. The stoker punctured just below his ribs, forging a bloody path through his heart and exiting upwards through his back. My enemy fell to the floor, blood spilling down from the orifices that I created. I threw down the poker, still hot from the burning log that withheld it only moments ago, my wrathful hands still shaking, heart beating rapidly, and lungs gasping for air. At this instant I had never felt so fresh and clean, washed of a fearful burden that had dragged me almost six feet into the cold relentless ground. Looking up, still in my stance over my foe, my fascination brought me to peruse his work, which I had cut short in my entrance. I sauntered over to the desk at which my neighbor was previously stationed and placed myself upon the very seat he had sat in. A letter rested on the desktop. After reading it, I learned that it described the feelings of sorrow that my neighbor felt for missing his mother’s birthday. Surprised yet electrified, I continued through his desk, finding nothing but parchment and a quill.
Feeling weary from the night’s events I decided to return to my home for the first true night of rest I would have had in the last week. Before leaving, I placed the corpse near the now smoldering fire pit and spilled the pit’s contents, pouring embers and ashes onto the already disoriented body. Soon, a small flame erupted from a smoldering log and I exited the house. I eagerly entered my house and quickly moved from foyer to bedroom. Sleep rapidly overtook my relaxed eyes, despite the bright orange light emanating from a satisfactory fire burning on a fuel of a wretched home.
****feel free to karma if you liked as well****
Last edited by Naughty_Om (2006-11-12 21:17:53)