Escape Part 1
Hello guys I'm not dead I swear! Lately I've been enjoying my Wednesdays with creative writing. I'm given the entire shorten period to write as much as I can. Pretty much made it up as I went.. (did I mention I'm struggling with the formating? =( )
Comments are welcome, my rough draft is on deviant art in my scrap book (http://xereko.deviantart.com/art/Escape-Rough-Draft-139565824)
More to come
If I could escape this lonesome dark room, I would in a blink of an eye! The chamber I found myself locked in is missing a functioning knob. I glance around the room and notice the chamber is aged like a fine wine with shelves upon shelves of books on the walls. Neatly piled shoulder high on the far wall beside each shelf is an intimidating mountain of books. My hand grasps the handle and tries yet again to turn the knob and open the door to freedom; but the rusty knob jiggles in my hand, cold to the touch.
I give up the attempt to open the door and slide down the chilly surface against the wall with my back. My clothes feel like they are alive, clinging to my body like a shroud tightly pressed against my flesh. My sudden panic attack of the realization hit me, the claustrophobic fear of not being able to leave the unfamiliar walls of the chamber. I calm myself with thoughts of my home; a cheap apartment high in the sky, the sound of rain pouring on the smooth stones of the outside ground of the window. The image brought a smile on my pale face, though to my surprise the sound of rain sounds realistic. I open my eyes and notice a window at the top of the chamber, high enough to be out of my reach yet the storm outside tells a story of sorrow.
I stand carefully, using the door as leverage and straighten up onto my own two feet with shoes that have long been broken in. I shake my head quickly to get myself to focus. Glancing back at the window I discover to my surprise that the books stacked under the window have water damage by a leak, giving the room a smell of mold. Leaning against the door I search the room with piercing blue eyes. Suddenly the room spontaneously lights up from the lightning outside. I browse the water damaged books and find nothing of interest on either of the shelves. I try to think back on what brought me to the dark chamber idly as I search through the books on the floor. The last thing I could remember was walking down a street, looking for clues for something. I try to think of what I was looking for but my brain was a hammer in my head.
As the powerful pulsing pain intensified I remembered looking at a book, feeling the prickles on the back of my neck, the sense of someone being behind me with ill intentions, like a shade of calamity striking its prey. The next thing I could remember after that was struggling, not being able to breath due to a cloth covering my mouth and nose; smell of a familiar chemical named Chloroform.
With a sigh of frustration from the confusion of the mystery to that shade of calamity was puzzled in my head. The sound of pouring rain got loud in my ears like an audience clapping excitedly after a great performance from a play as I got closer to the window. Suddenly I slip on the water on the floor, falling back, my eyes flashing and my head throbbing. My head felt like a record player, I tilt my head to the side and close my eyes to get the control of my vision and to allow the pain to subside.
With a curse under my breath for my carelessness I pick up the book sitting by my head, a diary. I open the book and to my surprise a slab of a mirror is attached to the inside next to the front page. I gaze at myself and see my blue eyes, sandy blonde hair, and a face that reads:” I’m bored.” I search through the book and find that it was made by a man, could be the owner of this chamber. I pocket it in my coat jacket for later and look for a way to escape.
I get up off the floor and pile the books as I step on them on my way up. I touch the window tenderly, my hand jumps from the chill of the glass. I taste the sweet aspect of freedom so close to my hand. I reach for the latch for the window slowly, enjoying the obvious solution, my hear races at the thought of leaving. When I try to open the window, the latch won’t budge. I press my face against the window, my heart sinking. With a fit of rage, my fist hits the window but without success of breaking it.
I look behind me at the door listening intently. Making sure the shade of calamity didn’t hear my fit of rage. No alien sounds came from the door, so I hop down from the stack of books. Picking up one of the books from the shelves I climb back up to the make-shift latter made out of books. I slam one of the novels against the window, breaking it open. I continually smash the window until it breaks. The rain hits my face and the harsh wind blows in my face. I make sure I break enough of the glass to climb up. Even while I worm my way through broken window; the glass dug into me, bleeding as I made my way half way through the window. I smile to myself but my heart raced as I heard the door slam open and a shout came from across the room. I hurry my pace, bleeding worse on my hands and scrapes. I feel my foot get caught but with effort I managed to kick my assailant, the force from kicking the shade of calamity pushed me out of the window. Tumbling down the roof and landing in the muddy grass. My wounds burned as the mud seeped into my scrapes. I managed to escape! My body gets an adrenaline rush as I pull myself to the nearby bushes, with a smile on my face from the success.
Men ran around the bushy area by the house looking for me. I look around from inside of the bushes like a content cat watching people from a distance. The men run to the back of the house, my grin getting wider.
I take the chance to run to one of the cars on the far side, clutching my wounds. I hop in the car, turn the keys and roar the engine as I make my escape to the woods on the far end of the road. I look at myself in the rear-view mirror thinking “Great job Henry Wilsons, you managed to escape the mysterious house, but you do realize you have to go back to figure out what is going on.’ I grunt to myself in reply with a shrug. I then move my head to see the abandoned looking house as I drive away, my gut feeling like I left something behind.
Comments are welcome, my rough draft is on deviant art in my scrap book (http://xereko.deviantart.com/art/Escape-Rough-Draft-139565824)
More to come
If I could escape this lonesome dark room, I would in a blink of an eye! The chamber I found myself locked in is missing a functioning knob. I glance around the room and notice the chamber is aged like a fine wine with shelves upon shelves of books on the walls. Neatly piled shoulder high on the far wall beside each shelf is an intimidating mountain of books. My hand grasps the handle and tries yet again to turn the knob and open the door to freedom; but the rusty knob jiggles in my hand, cold to the touch.
I give up the attempt to open the door and slide down the chilly surface against the wall with my back. My clothes feel like they are alive, clinging to my body like a shroud tightly pressed against my flesh. My sudden panic attack of the realization hit me, the claustrophobic fear of not being able to leave the unfamiliar walls of the chamber. I calm myself with thoughts of my home; a cheap apartment high in the sky, the sound of rain pouring on the smooth stones of the outside ground of the window. The image brought a smile on my pale face, though to my surprise the sound of rain sounds realistic. I open my eyes and notice a window at the top of the chamber, high enough to be out of my reach yet the storm outside tells a story of sorrow.
I stand carefully, using the door as leverage and straighten up onto my own two feet with shoes that have long been broken in. I shake my head quickly to get myself to focus. Glancing back at the window I discover to my surprise that the books stacked under the window have water damage by a leak, giving the room a smell of mold. Leaning against the door I search the room with piercing blue eyes. Suddenly the room spontaneously lights up from the lightning outside. I browse the water damaged books and find nothing of interest on either of the shelves. I try to think back on what brought me to the dark chamber idly as I search through the books on the floor. The last thing I could remember was walking down a street, looking for clues for something. I try to think of what I was looking for but my brain was a hammer in my head.
As the powerful pulsing pain intensified I remembered looking at a book, feeling the prickles on the back of my neck, the sense of someone being behind me with ill intentions, like a shade of calamity striking its prey. The next thing I could remember after that was struggling, not being able to breath due to a cloth covering my mouth and nose; smell of a familiar chemical named Chloroform.
With a sigh of frustration from the confusion of the mystery to that shade of calamity was puzzled in my head. The sound of pouring rain got loud in my ears like an audience clapping excitedly after a great performance from a play as I got closer to the window. Suddenly I slip on the water on the floor, falling back, my eyes flashing and my head throbbing. My head felt like a record player, I tilt my head to the side and close my eyes to get the control of my vision and to allow the pain to subside.
With a curse under my breath for my carelessness I pick up the book sitting by my head, a diary. I open the book and to my surprise a slab of a mirror is attached to the inside next to the front page. I gaze at myself and see my blue eyes, sandy blonde hair, and a face that reads:” I’m bored.” I search through the book and find that it was made by a man, could be the owner of this chamber. I pocket it in my coat jacket for later and look for a way to escape.
I get up off the floor and pile the books as I step on them on my way up. I touch the window tenderly, my hand jumps from the chill of the glass. I taste the sweet aspect of freedom so close to my hand. I reach for the latch for the window slowly, enjoying the obvious solution, my hear races at the thought of leaving. When I try to open the window, the latch won’t budge. I press my face against the window, my heart sinking. With a fit of rage, my fist hits the window but without success of breaking it.
I look behind me at the door listening intently. Making sure the shade of calamity didn’t hear my fit of rage. No alien sounds came from the door, so I hop down from the stack of books. Picking up one of the books from the shelves I climb back up to the make-shift latter made out of books. I slam one of the novels against the window, breaking it open. I continually smash the window until it breaks. The rain hits my face and the harsh wind blows in my face. I make sure I break enough of the glass to climb up. Even while I worm my way through broken window; the glass dug into me, bleeding as I made my way half way through the window. I smile to myself but my heart raced as I heard the door slam open and a shout came from across the room. I hurry my pace, bleeding worse on my hands and scrapes. I feel my foot get caught but with effort I managed to kick my assailant, the force from kicking the shade of calamity pushed me out of the window. Tumbling down the roof and landing in the muddy grass. My wounds burned as the mud seeped into my scrapes. I managed to escape! My body gets an adrenaline rush as I pull myself to the nearby bushes, with a smile on my face from the success.
Men ran around the bushy area by the house looking for me. I look around from inside of the bushes like a content cat watching people from a distance. The men run to the back of the house, my grin getting wider.
I take the chance to run to one of the cars on the far side, clutching my wounds. I hop in the car, turn the keys and roar the engine as I make my escape to the woods on the far end of the road. I look at myself in the rear-view mirror thinking “Great job Henry Wilsons, you managed to escape the mysterious house, but you do realize you have to go back to figure out what is going on.’ I grunt to myself in reply with a shrug. I then move my head to see the abandoned looking house as I drive away, my gut feeling like I left something behind.