Creative Writing: The Damper

I peered around through the rain, desperately searching for some shelter, I was drowning out here. The trouble was, I wasn’t in the best part of town, and in fact it was more than a little dodgy. I know this is my home turf but even I had to be careful. At least I seemed to be the only one out here on such an awful night. The rain was so powerfully loud I couldn’t hear should anyone try and creep up on me. I also couldn’t see very far with the rain so heavy and of course there were no street lights, they’d been broken long ago. The one place I knew I could safely enter was the church, so I dashed.

“AHHH!” I screeched. My voice echoed and I crumpled to the floor. As I lay on the ground, a smell seemed to enter and toxicate the air. I didn’t run, I didn’t fight the urge to fall asleep, I didn’t care if I died right there and then. In my mind I had already died, and my spirit was still back in bed dreaming of nothing important. I was just a body, a body waiting to meet the horror of this white prison. As I lay crying and beginning to holsinate another wave of white washed over me.

‘Then goody Cloyse knows her old friend?’ observed the traveler confronting her, and leaning on his writhing stick’” (Hawthorne 622).

The angry tendons on his neck throbbed. The rims of his eyes were bloodshot, his black pupils dilated – I was looking into the eyes of the Devil.

Warm crimson ran down her arm leaving a metallic smell that filled the room to the brim. The silver slit of metal she used slipped out of her hand as her vision became blurred and her breathing became faint. She slowly came in and out of consciousness while her arms held a passage for her demons to escape from. She woke once again to feel a pounding in her head that consumed her thoughts, she tried yelp for help but only a small groan came out.

His eyes grew even colder. “No one says ‘no’ to me,” he said, gritting his teeth.

Slithering in loose coils down her shoulder, her hair shone like black oil, lashing out with blinding light. Eyes so sharp they lacerated the air, and stabbed with their gaze. When she spoke, the earth trembled, the wind stilled, and clouds of speech seeped from her lips. Breathing near her felt like swallowing ash, the poison burned a trail down the throat. Eden was too pure for her; its flowers shrank back into the soil as she cut a path through the Garden.

Slowly we walked up the steps and into the Church. I can tell everybody was trying to be strong for me, but I'm not stupid, I see right through everything. And I wanna know where's Mommy, cause she hasn't been back in 3 days.

On that night in particular, the roses on her dress bloomed a deep, sickening crimson. She had never seen such a dark color on that dress. She felt the darkness of the roses pump from the silk lace of her dress dress into her blood. The evil ran first through her veins and then went on and infected her blood cells. Blood cell by blood cell, it spread slowly throughout her small frame and not long after, she felt it steadily take control over her body. She was no longer her pure innocent self.She wanted to hurt something, someone, anyone. She had the strong urge to...assassinate.. She was trapped. Trapped between cold, stone walls. Trapped between good or evil. Trapped between the gentle lace of her dress that pricked blood at her every move.

The silence echoes around the room, dripping from the walls and puddling in her head. She takes a step in the direction of the swirling dark tower. It erupts from the ground like a bone from the skin of a child. Her feet feel like weights, trying to hold her back, keep her from the pain. But there is something that keeps her going, some sort of sick twisted part of herself she keeps hidden in the depths of her mind. She reaches the base of the tower and looks up.

The monster charged towards me with all his might and swung his body around. He looked at me with a burning hatred, with a passion to rid of me for eternity.

She had been dressed in a white dress, trimmed with the fur of the rare white fox. She wore a banded tiara encrusted with diamonds and a large sapphire that complemented her eyes. Around her neck, she wore a necklace of sapphires to match her tiara. Her brown hair had been half pulled up and threaded about the circlet around her head, creating a lovely cascade of loose curls and waves over her shoulders. However, despite all this finery, Susanna fought like a cornered rat, scrambling to get away as the guard’s held fast to her arms. They had to force her into the gilded prison on wheels and locked the door behind her, beckoning the driver to move swiftly as Susanna struggled to escape her impending fate. She didn’t want this! She couldn’t have been meant for this! It was then her gaze darkened as her panicked struggles turned inward, turned to a glowering stare as she contemplated escape. She began to go through every possibility in search of a way to get away from this arrangement, from this unwanted

“You deserve to live forever” it uttered, as a fresh-faced female smiled at my passing by in the car.

Her well created cherry black casket sat nicely surronded by a dozens of white roses. Faintful cries filled the church, as the choir sung, swing their bodies in sync of the rythm. Their loud harmonious voices echoed off the walls church as I sat silently in the first row of the church in complete disguise and annoyance.

“The organ swelled, and the children in the choir lifted their voices in soft and beautiful sounds. Bright, warm sunshine flooded through the window into the church pew where Karen was seated. Her heart was so filled with sunshine, and with peace and joy, that it burst. Her soul flew on the rays of the sun up to God, and no one there asked her about the red shoes.”