This is a story I've been working on every once in a great while, and I believe I finally have enough material to post. It'll be a short story, not too lengthy, and so I'll just be breaking it up into three segments. With the first being the shortest. On the story, it's a gothic -- much in the vain of Edgar Allen Poe and Nathanial Hawthrone. So, yeah, enjoy.
[edit: damn formating]
Boy In Burlap
Segment One:
A haunting wind chime broke the sky -- it was then I awoke. Childish, piercing emotion greeted me as I arose from slumber. I peered at the asphalt black steering wheel in front of me, and then felt a pounding sensation at my forehead. It seemed I had passed out, and slept a great many hours with my head nestled a top the wheel. Running my hand across the slick groove upon my head -- formed from my slumber -- I looked out to the wilderness.
It was night. Rain was lightly rapping at the roof of my car, and I groaned in disapproval. The wind however, was not so gentle. It roared across the plains, and I felt the windows creak and moan from its punishing brutality. The majority of the world outside was washed gray, so utterly dull, hardly reflecting in the moonlight. I felt a strange presence of death nearby, and a shiver strutted through me. In this sea of morbid plainness, stood a house, almost lost in its surrounding for it too was gray and lost of life. From it came the only sign of existence -- a pale yellow light echoing out from an ethereal dust ridden window.
I ran my hands over my thighs, and then carried them to the door handle. I lightly nudged the car door, and the wind took over, rocketing it open. Calmly and cautiously I lifted myself from my auto abode, and then slammed the door behind me. I presume I should have at least attempted to start the car, before leaving its safety, but something inside me, called me to the home.
Making my through the harsh cruelty of the outer regions, an odd aroma began to overcome me. It smelt of garlic. Where the scent originated from, I wasn’t certain; however, I didn’t let it deter my speed. I blazed down the road, and I arrived at the gates – in what seemed like seconds. As I was lifting my arms, to open the gate, I realized I felt weak. I inspected my body – I was a ghastly gray of sorts; my hands were ashy and flaking, incredibly sensitive and dry. Feeling around my body, I discovered a large gash running it’s way across my stomach; however, it wasn’t incredibly deep. Dried up blood lined itself a ways down my belly, yet I thought nothing of it. I was substantially skinnier, my frame clearly showed my rigid skeleton to all.
Nevertheless, I wasn’t one to be pessimistic – to dwell on things I could not change. So, I withstood the blistering agony that rode itself through my arms as I pushed with all my might against the rotten steel cage in front of me. It seemed hardly any muscle was there to support me in my objective, and after another twelve unbearable minutes - I gave up.
[edit: ****ing brother, okay I think things are fine now.]
[edit: damn formating]
Boy In Burlap
Segment One:
A haunting wind chime broke the sky -- it was then I awoke. Childish, piercing emotion greeted me as I arose from slumber. I peered at the asphalt black steering wheel in front of me, and then felt a pounding sensation at my forehead. It seemed I had passed out, and slept a great many hours with my head nestled a top the wheel. Running my hand across the slick groove upon my head -- formed from my slumber -- I looked out to the wilderness.
It was night. Rain was lightly rapping at the roof of my car, and I groaned in disapproval. The wind however, was not so gentle. It roared across the plains, and I felt the windows creak and moan from its punishing brutality. The majority of the world outside was washed gray, so utterly dull, hardly reflecting in the moonlight. I felt a strange presence of death nearby, and a shiver strutted through me. In this sea of morbid plainness, stood a house, almost lost in its surrounding for it too was gray and lost of life. From it came the only sign of existence -- a pale yellow light echoing out from an ethereal dust ridden window.
I ran my hands over my thighs, and then carried them to the door handle. I lightly nudged the car door, and the wind took over, rocketing it open. Calmly and cautiously I lifted myself from my auto abode, and then slammed the door behind me. I presume I should have at least attempted to start the car, before leaving its safety, but something inside me, called me to the home.
Making my through the harsh cruelty of the outer regions, an odd aroma began to overcome me. It smelt of garlic. Where the scent originated from, I wasn’t certain; however, I didn’t let it deter my speed. I blazed down the road, and I arrived at the gates – in what seemed like seconds. As I was lifting my arms, to open the gate, I realized I felt weak. I inspected my body – I was a ghastly gray of sorts; my hands were ashy and flaking, incredibly sensitive and dry. Feeling around my body, I discovered a large gash running it’s way across my stomach; however, it wasn’t incredibly deep. Dried up blood lined itself a ways down my belly, yet I thought nothing of it. I was substantially skinnier, my frame clearly showed my rigid skeleton to all.
Nevertheless, I wasn’t one to be pessimistic – to dwell on things I could not change. So, I withstood the blistering agony that rode itself through my arms as I pushed with all my might against the rotten steel cage in front of me. It seemed hardly any muscle was there to support me in my objective, and after another twelve unbearable minutes - I gave up.
[edit: ****ing brother, okay I think things are fine now.]






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