Monster Creative Writing

I wander through the misty woods, pushing brambles to the sides with one hand as I guard my Canon camera with the other. I stop as come a small stream, I flip my bag to the front of me and reach into my backpack. “It has be in here somewhere.” I mumble to no one as my hands move around the items in my unorganized bag. I finally pull out my instructions on how to get to the abandon house that I had written down from the internet earlier. I shove the wrinkled paper back into my bag and cross the river then turn left. Twenty minutes later I appear at an old broken gate with a slightly sinking house behind two pine trees. My eyes dart quickly to the rusting No Trespassing sign and back again to the broken gate. I carefully lift the gate above the

He is oblivious to the fact that his appearance is horrific and has no knowledge of the concept of evil because he has had no exposure to society (Edwards). The monster does not know that civilized man views his ugly exterior as representative of evil within, so he is baffled when the occupant of a hut he stumbles upon produces a terrified shriek and runs away (Shelley, 105). The monster later comes to know good and evil; virtue and vice; due to the fact that he possesses the faculty of "perfectibility – man's inexhaustible ability to improve himself (…) and be shaped by his environment" (Edwards). This quality of adaptability allows for enlightenment to occur, but is ultimately the source of all of man's misery.

“Some people say I was lucky to survive, other will say I deserved it for the choice I made. I’m here to say I was lucky, it’s never ok to say your life isn’t worth living even at your worst you can always look forward tomorrow will come and if you put your mind to it you’ll see that anything is possible.” – Stephen McGregor Professional Paralympian

Sunshine was pouring out from in between the buildings, casting shadows all around Ponyboy and the gang as they walked to Pony’s school. They were taking their time walking down the streets and for the first time they all were really seeing what was all around them. Memories were surfacing in their minds showing them what it all meant to them. With every step they took on the sidewalk they remembered a different memory as if they were walking down memory lane. Ponyboy didn’t think it was possible for him to be walking down this street for the last time as a high school student, but he had gone through the years with great grades that earned him many scholarships.

Everybody was gone. Evacuated, they called it. The Pearl of Asia, a city once renowned the world over for its vibrant music and art scenes, along with its French-style architecture –now devoid of living souls. The city centre was only a corpse of its former self: the central market was completely unrecognisable; the surrounding houses now just piles of brick and wood. They said that we did not need cities, that we were corrupted by Western values. They would create a new society, free from the old ways of money and greed. The past five years had been quite abominable, so everybody hoped that this new government would finally bring peace.

I nodded. It hadn't been bad at all. While I had been expecting an event to occur, we hadn't even interacted with a single person.

“Yes I am dad.” Kevin screaming at the top of his lungs,” Mr.Cromwell needs to go!” While Howie and Kevin argued ,Cromwell was over there eating Kevin’s breakfast, waffles. It was too late, Howie and Kevin turned around ,the waffles were gone.Kevin and Howie went straight over to doggy daycare. Cromwell had stayed 1 hour knowing he wanted to leave.

Posters and pamphlets strewn across the walls accompany the harsh, burning stench of disinfectant. Passing the bodies of former men, and followed by the click-clack of nurses shoes, he sees him. Hollow cheeks, sunken eyes, every bone visible through the thin hospital gown. His love is a shell of the man he once knew, Patty is gone.

At 11.26pm a girl with sleek straight hair walked along the middle of a deserted street, the sharp heels of her shoes making a muted click every time they hit the damp cobblestone road beneath them. As she walked her hair swayed only slightly, as if not even the most powerful of winds could cause it to be anything less than beautiful. The girl took beauty very seriously, her outfit was always creaseless, her nails were always without chips and her shoes were always polished to the point of immaculateness. But it was her hair that was the most beautiful thing about her; it was long and as black as the night sky way above her, and shone as if it too had stars though out it. Never was a single hair out of place; never was her hair anything less

I relaxed on my deck outside, basking in the streams of sunshine and sticky humid air.

I weave in and out of the last of the summer apple trees, beside the deep pool, the weeping willows cry out as the wind rattles their bones. The howling tempestuous wind carries me into a clearing where a little girl, with her hair like an inferno splayed around her head like a delicate band, lies asleep in the silvery moonlight. I fly right up to her and land on her chest, where a scarlet black rose lies dead upon her breast. I wake up. I don’t know where I am.

The sun was kissing the horizon; the day was just beginning, and the sweet sounds of the birds morning sound had awakened me. I was sitting in the same spot I do day after day, happy and well rested. I awoke from my peaceful slumber with a large, clanging chime that echoed off the walls and the roof. The sounds of footsteps stomped down the stairs, and there, as always, was Todd. And as he always does, he shuffled his way to the kitchen and turned on the coffee. Finally, as the aroma of burnt coffee grounds filled the air, a new day had begun.

he jungle gave way to the lithe figure, running and jumping through the alien thicket, dodging and turning in her way to the familiar site. Even at such speed, probably with more reason, her eyes were watchful, alert. The low plants with the wide leaves and blue spots were harmless and edible, a brush with the tall red sprigs of the reeds in humid areas caused a fever. In the daylight such things were easy to distinguish even in a hurry, but it also meant that she had to be careful with the predators like the one chasing her.

The morning is calm. It is steaming under the slightly overcast sky. George wakes up to the sound of the rooster’s crow. Crooks comes into the room, “Mornin’ George,” he says. “Morning,” George replies. Candy is already dressed and working outside. Putting on his work clothes,

The howling of the wind brought my eyes to open. Where was I? Focusing in the dark of night, confusion washed over me as I came to realize I was in the desert. Distant landscapes of dry and worn rock surrounded me, and beneath my bare feet I felt the gritty sand caught between my toes. I was surrounded by those rocky hills and yet as I scanned the desolate desert it seemed never ending. The irony of the nighttime desert suddenly set into my body; that ghastly wind moving right through me and chilling my bones to that of splintering ice. The need to move started me forward though, and I felt a sharp ache all over, my body trying to fight against change. Was I lost? My heart began pounding fast in my chest, the blood pumping through my veins