The Night - Original Writing

One morning, when I shook Sarah’s hand, she didn’t wake up. Her hand felt cold, so I pulled her yellow blanket up around her shoulders. I crawled back into my own bed and waited. Every few minutes I called, “Where’s Sarah?”, but she just kept on sleeping.

I still recall my wife’s shattered cries on the cursed night, as it rewinds itself in my sleep night after night. To grasp that the angel girl I flew in the air days ago may not even recognize me as her father anymore is truly devastating. However, Miss Sullivan, who I expected to be an ill-mannered, vigorous Yankee, conducted a miracle before of my very eyes.

On this particular day, she was walking through the woods, singing and skipping merrily along. All of a sudden, there was a sound behind her. As she turned around to

The hall was surrounded with pictures of Morrie. The room spun, giving me a nauseous feeling. I turned around and flung open the door; I couldn’t bear to be in that room for another second. I went to my dorm and shut the door. I sat in dark emptiness, thinking of everyone who left me in my life: Hoppie, Doc, Nanny, Geel, my mother, and now, Morrie. It was too much to handle. I didn’t move from my spot on the bed for forty-eight hours. I drove myself deeper and deeper into the sadness I felt for the death of my best friend. As I laid there pitying myself I heard a knock on my door. I didn’t get up. The noise grew louder: KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK. Still I didn’t move from my throne of self pity. The door gently opened. A man stepped into my room. The first thing I noticed was his size. He cast a shadow that nearly

Enchanted by her serene radiance, I did not disturb her. Suddenly she began to speak in a whispered hum that was more like a song, unique in a dwelling full of ranting outbursts. She spoke of years long past, swimming in the pond with her sister and dancing in the moonlight. I could picture all in my head, like I was watching a movie. Then she began repeating the story she had just told me, and I realized that she was merely talking to herself. Although this discovery disenchanted me at first, I soon realized that, although the woman was talking to herself, she still had so many fantastic stories stored in her mind. The residents of the home all had some life flittering in them and numerous stories to share; they just need someone to listen to them. After my experience at the home I knew that one of my goals in life would always be o help make sure that people were receiving proper treatment, and not merely stuffed away and drugged up.

We had dinner, we laughed. Unsuspecting of what was to come. We went back to that place only a few weeks after she died. Again, my mom handed my brothers and I ten dollars for a souvenir. The walk to the restaurant took forever. We had parked in a different place, so we took a longer walk. Dinner was full of remembrance. We hid our sad memories with forced smiles, choked laughs, and unswallowed bites. And, after an era, the torture was over. We forgot which way our car was, so we chose a path. It was the wrong one. We walked further and further away from our car, until we realized we had went the wrong way. Just as we realized, I noticed the man. The same man from the night with Nancy. He was awake, and sitting against the wall. He didn't beg, he didn't cry. He was still. I turned around with my family, getting ready to walk back the whole way. As I turned, I had a glimpse of something shiny on the man’s face. There was a single tear, frozen, sitting on his

The damp, frizzy fur of the mother suddenly stood on edge as a movement in the woods became prevalent. Her angled head raised quickly, as if a spotter on a boat-deck. Telescope eyes scanned the surrounding forest with incredible precision. She edged closer to her young, signally for him to remain perfectly still as her pointed snoop investigated the forage.

Gasping for air, and pushing an invisible ‘something’ away from her, Charity sat up with a start, gulping air into her lungs. It felt as if her breath was suddenly squished out of her; however, it was not a scary feeling. She remembered a dark shadow hovering over her, then consuming her, momentarily smothering her. At first, the shadow radiated love, compassion, and understanding- feelings that returned once she could breathe again.

Rion calmed from his night terror easily, and he and Percival went back to sleep. When morning arrived, Rion shot out of bed with a grin, full of his typical energy. He had no memory of his tears and screaming the previous night, which was just as well; the boy deserved peace after all the heartache he had weathered.

An immense pressure bore in her head as she slowly awoke from her midday slumber, her daydreams slowly fading away from her mind. Reality sunk in, and she found herself awake. Dim light shone through the windows and it pierced her eyes, worse than a thousand needles ever could. Her mental screams sounded that of countless condemned souls, shrieking for life

Leaves glistened in the moonlight, as the wind howled in despair. I found myself alone, in the darkness, as I noticed a slim figure walking towards me. Adrenaline rushed through my veins, as the individual walking towards me appeared to be a stranger. As the silhouette came closer, I realized that it was my dear aunt. Her face beamed with excitement, and she grabbed me into a tight embrace. “I am moving on,” she informed me as the corners of her mouth pulled into a genuine smile. She then turned around and began to gracefully amble out of the hinterland, as her shadow disappeared within the ominous darkness. I became aware that I was merely in a dream that was only a product of my subconscious mind. I became lucid, as relief washed over

We had been walking together for a while now, for the forest had become dim and haunting; something about the moonlight made the trees appear taller and more threatening, as if a step on the wrong path would send sharp branches down unto some poor soul. The roots on the ground were alive, twisting and bending like snakes waiting for you to stop paying attention so they could pull you down into the Earth. The sounds of rustling leaves were horrific monsters who lusted after your flesh; the cold breeze came from the shadows to steal your warmth and blanket you in goosebumps. I hoped it would be this way. The moonlight perfectly illuminated Maria’s face, and on it I could easily read fear and apprehension; she could sense danger, just like all

While she dozed, she entered lush green fields much like those she’d spend hours in when she was in a child in Kentucky and how those hours felt like an eternity, endless, just like the grass that appeared to be endless, going on and on in all directions. Edna, wearing all white, smiled

“Stand up right now and put on your coat. We’ll be waiting for you in the car.” Having no idea what was going on, I swiftly dressed up, and in a minute was downstairs. Carefully driving, daddy occasionally looked at my mom. He said, “Everything will be okay, believe me.” In the wing mirror of the car, I recognized a woman, who had never shown her weakness before. Tears were slowly running down her face. Passing by glass buildings, we moved towards another part of the city. Floors of every building decreased. Streets narrowed. Every street was a reminder of my childhood. Trying to get rid of an idea floating in my head, I closed my eyes tight. In a few minutes, the sound of an ambulance broke a silence. I opened my eyes and recognized a familiar

Touched by fading moonlight, the girl looked pale as a ghost, distressed and sorrowful. Great drops fell from her eyes; the heavy rain clouds in her mind let loose their turbulent nature. She felt the muscle of her chin trembled like a small child, again, she looked toward the window as if the darkness outside could soothe her. However, she tried to keep her sobbing down by biting her lips, afraid the woman would “visit” again. Meanwhile, in the hallway, there was only deadly silence, creating an overwhelming sense of emptiness.