Outside, the Howling swept across the dark forest and slowly the deep, colorless fog suffocated the land, from great arch trees - ancient and wise, to struggling briars – hardy and wicked, till the stubborn weeds – everlasting no more. Shadows flitted just beyond sight, faintly outlined against the pale mist. Impossible shapes, a scrambling of limbs, their countless eyes, watching, watching from afar. But they were getting closer, closer, closer. There was no moon tonight.
Inside it didn’t feel safe. A sorry squirming tongue of flame sputtered in the hearth, blackened way past anything. It offered no warmth. Your mother’s soft, nervous singing showed her breath in the dull light; flickering. Dying. She was beautiful, mother was. And wise, and strong, and big. Huge – taller than any man or woman you’ve ever seen. She’d always looked so sure of everything, no fear in her. You’d doubt whether she knew of such a thing.
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But to you it was different, now. This time there was no safety inside. Mother could protect you no longer. Only sing, softly. A slight quiver to it; making the familiar calm lullaby sound so eerie.
From the corner of your eye, you watch the mist roll through the broken window, leaking onto the old groaning floorboards. Mother strokes your cheek, pulling your attention back to the song, now, almost at its end. The irrevocable fog crept across the floor, slightly parting around your mother’s feet, pooling underneath your bed. Her voice is soft, coaxing. She’s trying her hardest to put you at ease.
You watch, horrorstruck, as shadows scuttle beneath the shallow carpet of mist. Like fish in a murky pond; no more than vague shapes, blurry smears. Sometimes you caught glimpses of what they really were. You shut your eyes. These were not things you wanted to
The night was tempestuous and my emotions were subtle, like the flame upon a torch. They blew out at the same time that my sense of tranquility dispersed, as if the winds had simply come and gone. The shrill scream of a young girl ricocheted off the walls and for a few brief seconds, it was the only sound that I could hear. It was then that the waves of turmoil commenced to crash upon me. It seemed as though every last one of my senses were succumbed to disperse from my reach completely. As everything blurred, I could just barely make out the slam of a door from somewhere alongside me and soon, the only thing that was left in its place was an ominous silence.
Into The Lush Forest The sun had just kissed the hill, giving warm color to the sky, but I was feeling cold. The excitement in my heart was slowly losing its fire. We were lost and I felt alone, lost in the crowd of trees. A cold crowd perhaps. As the three of us walked slowly through the dense forest, our steps made loud noises - crushing the fallen leaves, and the broken twigs.
The cricket chirps grew louder and all we could see in the dark was the bright fluorescent eyes of animals creeping and crawling all over the place. Shortly begun the thunder and lightning followed by a short shower. Everything was soon wet, and the knife-like smell of the damp soil oozed into my nostrils. As I stumbled almost blindly through the deep jungle, I could feel the muggy earth squelch as I lightly treaded on it. Tears started to well up in my eyes, and I began to vigorously tremble.
“It was a large, beautiful room, rich and picturesque in the soft, dim light which the maid had turned low. She went and stood at an open window and looked out upon the deep tangle of the garden below. All the mystery and witchery of the night seemed to have gathered there amid the perfumes and the dusky and tortuous outlines of flowers and foliage. She was seeking herself and finding herself in just such sweet half-darkness which met her moods. But the voices were not soothing that came to her from the darkness and the sky above and the stars. They jeered and sounded mourning notes without promise, devoid even of hope. She turned back into the room and began to walk to and fro, down its whole length, without stopping, without resting. She carried in her hands a thin handkerchief, which she tore into ribbons, rolled into a ball, and flung from her. Once she stopped, and taking off her wedding ring, flung it upon the carpet. When she saw it lying there she stamped her heel upon it, striving to crush it. But her small boot heel did not make an indenture, not a mark upon the glittering circlet.
I didn’t know what happened, but worse, I didn’t know what was happening. The sounds of footsteps neared my body, but I was too hurt to react.
The night sky was dismal, a brutal darkness with only the moon hanging lonely, sightlessly peering through the eerie fog. The spine-chilling wind blowing, whistling and howling as if sending signs of vileness ((whispers of…….?????)). The huge petrifying old oak trees with finger-like branches swaying violently.
Lingered upon the pools that stand in drains. Let fall upon its back the soot that falls from chimneys. Slipped by the terrace, made a sudden leap. And seeing that it was a soft October night. Curled once about the house, and fell asleep.
The gentle barrage of acid rain on the flat rooftop wakes me late at night. A dim light shines through the spaces in the cheap blinds. The soothing sounds of the sleeping night caress my aching body: a distant mechanical hum; the moan of an infant; the quickening tempo of the rain on the roof. My back is stiff and itchy as it sticks loosely to the clammy sheet that separates me from the coarse concrete floor. The stifling night air is sweltering and saturated.
As I remember, Mother is sitting on my side of the bed, her face illuminated by the candle’s dim glow. She is singing the lullaby we both know so well, the smooth words rolling off her tongue, melding like honey upon our eager ears. Her fingers sweep gently over us. As the breathing in the room calms, Mother blows out the flame, leaving the room in a cool darkness. I am usually asleep before she eases herself out and exits the room quietly.
“Mamma?” I called, shielding my eyes to the wind and pushing forward. It would be so pleasing to just hear her response, to be sure that she heard me, to have the comfort of knowing where she was. To have the comfort of knowing where
“Where can we go?” Jonus yelled to the Shaman, hoping it would take the lead like it always did.
“I don’t kno-” Suddenly that same metallic silver that I previously encountered flooded my sensory nerves. “Yes! I’m here, Mom!” I yelled as I threw open the door and embraced my mother with a tight hug. I could see her. I could see everything now. The lighthouse shine of the moon. The stillness of my furniture, my posters, figurines, my room, everything now in full view. I buried my head into the crook of my mother’s shoulder.
The Creature That Opened My Eyes Sympathy, anger, hate, and empathy, these are just a few of the emotions that came over me while getting to know and trying to understand the creature created by victor frankenstein in Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein. For the first time I became completely enthralled in a novel and learned to appreciate literature not only for the great stories they tell but also for the affect it could have on someones life as cliché as that might sound, if that weren’t enough it also gave me a greater appreciation and understanding of the idiom “never judge a book by its cover.” As a pimply faced, insecure, loner, and at most times self absorbed sophomore in high school I was never one to put anytime or focus when it came time
I was convinced that it was not her fault. Encouraged by my mother’s story, I decided to strive harder towards pursuing a successful future, to repay her for all the kindness and love she has poured into me. Everything I do would be for Mother. Light faded away and shadow soon engulfed the town. The blackout absorbed all radiance, leaving mother nature’s twilight sky to shine one last time before the sun sets.
The silver moon suspends in the velvet sky, glowing dimly. Moonlight travels through the yellowish leaves and sheds on the land. I see the obscure, indistinct shadows of the trees are swaying on the floor letting me have the illusion of thousands of devils dancing slyly in the night, planning some evil trick. The hazy mist surrounds the street making it more mysterious and attractive, and the bright...