The Cellar - Original Writing
During one boring December afternoon, I decided to wrap some of my
Christmas presents. I found everything I needed, except for the
wrapping paper and I soon came to the conclusion that it must have
been placed in the cellar when I had recently moved. Eager to get the
wrapping paper, I made my way to the cellar. What happened next I will
never forget:
I reached the bottom stair, and squinted my eyes to try and get
accustomed to the darkness that enveloped the room. I tenderly reached
out and flicked the light switch. It was just as I had thought, the
light didn't work. There must have been a fault with the wire. I
looked back, the hall light casting a thin beam down the stairs. It
would take me too long to venture back, so I hesitantly departed from
the only strand of remaining light and entered the dark void.
I edged my way down the columns of ageing books, which had
deteriorated from the dampness that seemed to suffocate me and press
down heavily on my lungs. As I walked down the aisles, I felt
something compress under my left heel on my boot. Unable to see what I
had stepped in, I crouched down and inspected the pulpy mush.
Screaming I stood up. It was a hairy ball, which had a long slimy
leathery tail. It could only be one thing. A rat! Terrified to go any
further, I turned to go back upstairs where I could retrieve a lamp
and be able to see further than my nose. But, as I spun around, my
elbow caught the rotting pile of books and before I could move
anywhere, the pile fell down and blocked my only known way of exit. I
was trapped! The books, having just been disturbed sent out billows of
d...
... middle of paper ...
... jammed shut. Deciding that it was a matter of getting out now or
trying to find another way, which could take ages, I grabbed the
nearest thing possible. It was an old rusted candlestick, which I
thought I had thrown away years ago. My heart pounding, I threw the
candlestick as hard as I could possibly try at the window.
Smash! The glass shattered all over the lawn outside, the candlestick
bouncing away and rolling under a nearby bush. I hurriedly scrambled
out of the windows opening, being careful that I didn't cut myself on
the shards of glass that remained in the window. Breathing heavily, I
passed over the freshly cut lawn, my bare feet getting tickled by the
short strands of grass and crept up my front porch. Back in my house,
I breathed a sigh of relief. I looked around at my familiar
surroundings. I was safe.
realization. “His lips quivered and his spectacles were dimmed with mist. ’We may stay here till
This essay will begin to look at the stories, ‘The Darkness Out There’ and ‘The Red Room.’ Both of these stories seem to hold at first glance similar themes but closer reading and analysis show the reader that there are different attitudes to the main theme fear.
In the eighteenth century etchings entitled “Beer street and Gin lane",are two prints of English satirist William Hogarth where he supported the drinking beer in comparison to the consumption of gin.These prints were designed side by side so that the viewers see drinking beer as less intoxicating than the evil side effects of gin drinking.At the same time this "Gin lane" a companion of the other printing increased public awareness for drinking, and its deadly consequences led a campaign against the British government economic plan.
Don't expect anything linear when it comes out of the insubordinate, tortuous mind of the Canadian cult filmmaker Guy Maddin, who in his last sumptuously demented tale, “The Forbidden Room”, had the contribution of the newcomer Evan Johnson as co-writer and co-director. As in the majority of his past works, the film masterfully evokes the black-and-white silent classics and Technicolor fantasies in order to create a layered story that despite the numerous sinister characters and baffling interactions among them, can be summarized as a man desperately looking for a woman. A jocose spirit is present since its very beginning when a man wearing a robe discourses about how to take a bath. This hilarious little dissertation leads us to the central
When I was a child, I looked at a mirror one day, and I was amazed by the fact that I was aware of my eyes looking at my face. It was a moment of epiphany for me that I was conscious of my senses working properly.
to see him less and less.“They don’t want to be around me at all now,”
stood upon, was frightening. The only was to go was down. I took a deep
himself. It was the last lot on the bay at the end of the road that
in a hospital. Don't ask me which one. I don't even know how I am here
I was bored and had nothing else to do, so I followed Ron and we
Jim got up and looked around at his mess of a living room. It was
of a bunny's fur. Then a man in front of me comes to his seat with a glass
in one of the bags; he rubbed a small amount of the white powder onto
I'm going to get my hair done later on so I better get mum to make an
not weep and did not cry he was in a state of shock. Mikhail later