ok well i was just looking through some word documents and found these two stories which i had written for year 12 english , not that i was the best or good at english compared to vcenote standards lol ... so yeah IF anyone can be bothered reading them or one ? just wanted your thoughts ...but its not like its going to be marked cause its over so yeah ...just any opinions if you like it or hate it...
Fractured Connections
…Something moved near her. She sat still as death. She could just see the disturbance of the tall grass a few metres away from her, like a ripple coming nearer and closer. A man appeared from behind the dieing grass. Her eyes shone with a glimmering menace as the razor sharp dagger was brought into the heart of a middle aged weary man lying on the ground. ‘Oh, revenge is sweet.’ The man near her smiled. She licked the edge of the dagger, blood soaking her lips as if she had bitten into an apple so sweet…
Yawning, she woke up from her cushiony bed. She stretched her arms and quickly got out of bed. Her brother, Matthew was watching television as he usually did in the mornings, as he waited for Katie to come downstairs. Residents have reported a suspicious looking lump near the sewerage line off the edge of a farm. One man believed he saw a mutilated body at the site but police are yet to confirm this. Investigations will be held tomorrow as forensic teams move to the site and collect evidence… Katie was staring at television screen. ‘What is going on around here, yesterday a murder, today another suspected murder? I’m worried Mat, I don’t like it around here.’ Matthew calmly got off the sofa bed and patted Katie on the shoulder. ‘It’s ok Kat, we’ll be alright, and we just need to stick together…you and me.’ Katie sighed with grief. Ever since her parents left her she didn’t know what direction in life she was taking. One minute she would be worrying about her university fees, the other minute she would be worried about her older brother.
Matthew would wipe those sorrows right away from her face some days. He always brought a smile to her face. He was her light at the end of the tunnel. He was the one supporting her, making her feel like she belonged, because right now she felt like everything around her was collapsing.
The family used to be as tight knit as glue, but once they were gone long ago she would feel a part of her soul missing. Her mother was a vibrant full of life person, she would nurture and care for them all and her father was very protective of them both. They used to play games with each other and go on outings to the mountains a lot. Smiling, being happy.
Katie never remembered her other brother. He was abandoned at an orphanage when she was a baby, so she was told. Her parents never told her, until she was eighteen. He was named Kevin. They thought they would hurt me too much to ever tell me. She always had a minute place in the back of her mind, where she used to think that finding this brother would have been the part of her soul that would be filled again.
Mat glanced at her face, his warm rictus-shaped smile, lifted her out of thought. ‘Why don’t we have a coffee, it’ll make you feel better, we’ll go to the coffee shop in town.’
‘Alright’
Katie’s sun-golden hair flew behind her face as the gushing wind swept across her face. It was crisp and refreshing, clearing her mind from all the anxieties she had bottled up inside her. They had slammed the doors behind them and entered the coffee shop.
‘Café late and a cappuccino please.’
Katie sat around the large rounded tables that were spotted around the shop. The café late had arrived for her and she started taking slow small sips. A stack of newspapers were next to the window sill where she was sitting and she picked the closest one to her.
Tragedy hits the town of Grovky as another murder unfolds. Katie’s eyes widened as she scanned through the article. ‘Mat look at this.’ Mat saw the picture; it was in front of a house with tall grass surrounding it. ‘Oh Katie, this doesn’t look good. It’s like a plague set upon us.’ Katie started to pick up every single newspaper on the window. They all had front covers with the theme of the ever so elusive killer.
Boy found murdered in a park
Police still hunting for a serial killer on the loose
Investigations are found fruitless
Massive dog search for killer
‘Matt, I’m freaking out here. We have to leave; we can’t stay here any longer. The past needs to be left and THERE’S A BLOODY KILLER OUT THERE, for god’s sake Mat I’m leaving, I’m leaving.’ Mat had closed his eyes. He had no choice, he had to protect the only thing he cared about the most, and he had to be with her.
‘Ok, we’ll leave this place, and never come back here again. We’ll pack and leave tomorrow.’ A tear had fallen from his eye and dropped into the darkness of his chocolate.
No, no leave me alone, go away, I don’t want you back. Her brother flashed before her blood shot eyes. No I can’t. A middle aged father appeared as vividly as the sun. Blood.Blood.Blood dripping. Lips. Oh no. Stop. Nooooooo! She gasped; she sucked all the oxygen out of the air. She lay sitting up panting. Her t-shirt was drenched in blood. ‘No, it was a nightmare, no,’ whispered Katie. The door to her bedroom creaked open. ‘Mat, oh my god Mat I had a terrible nightmare.’ A black cloaked figure stood silhouetted against the dim light emitting from the hallway. ‘WHO’S THAT!?’ The rictus shaped smile loomed close to hers. ‘Oh Jessie, you know who I am, you remember you were with me that night, with our… parents.’ He laughed softly. He pulled the mask off his face and there looming over her was her abandoned old brother. She seemed to relax and a sly voice whispered ‘O… you, Kevin.’ She felt faint. ‘Lie down; you’ll never know what happened.’ He pushed her down with his fingers and brushed a soft kiss on her forehead. He laid beside her a gleaming dagger.
The many characters of that woman in the bed, was deep asleep.
Confined bounds
Big Brother is watching you. Write a short story about a character in today’s world that senses that Big Brother is watching.
Ding Dong
Window delivery for Mr. Jenkins?
“Yes, yes hand me that over, thank you.”
The large framed door shut close with a loud hollow bang.
“Ah, butler nice to see my special mirror delivered on time,” Jenkins said with a wild expression. “Just put it with my other mirrors, on the top left corner, there’s a special spot for this one.”
“Righteo sir, what ever you please, I will do.”
Jenkins moved steadily through the long wide corridors of his house. His house was no ordinary house, like all the surrounding houses. Jenkins’ house was far more grandeur than that. It was a mansion, built with splendor and grace, laced with gold and treasures. One treasure in fact was the key to his emotions, his thoughts, his spirit…his soul. One that was tainted with grief and disgust, one that despised human kind, one that kept him confined in bounds. Oh, Big Brother was watching him, always in that one room of the mansion. Big Brother was always there, looking down on him, judging him, exposing his mind and his thoughts. Thoughts that flowed from mind to paper, thoughts that bloomed into vivid memories of the past, of the torment and pain.
Jenkins pushed open the enormous plain white doors that screamed of intimidation. His eyes wandered up, towards the high ceiling. His solemn reflection watched him. It stared him back in the eye, to the opening of his inner self. Everywhere he walked, the chandelier light reflected the image of a thought twisted man, entwined in the past and in his body. Irregular shaped mirrors, sharp, jagged, smooth, round, triangular were hooked on the walls like a spectacular mosaic artwork. Of course he had first been obsessed with himself and his actions, in his dwindling power, a couple of years long ago. He created it; he had made this the room of reflection. It was his and no one else’s, not even the butler could claim an inch of it. This was his time, once per day for every day of the week to reflect, to expulse himself of all his confined memories. The mirrors were judgmental of his mind, reflecting back the past, presenting it in the present. The atmosphere in this room was always tense until today.
Jenkins eyes moved frantically around the room, his mind was whizzing with emotion. These mirrors enabled these emotions to be expressed. His head jerked up and to the side. He placed himself on the single wooden table in the middle of the room and sat down. An old worn diary was spread across the table and a pen centered in the middle of it. He picked up the pen and began, the mirrors always staring down at him.
To an undimmed light of hope,
December 2007, I am sad. I express my thoughts and my mind to this seemingly never ending diary. I hate others, I hate you, and I hate this world. Ever since I was born I have lived to regret it. I will never take pity for the homeless, for the poor, for the needy, for war, for love, for anything. I might live to regret these words, but change might come, sometime. People never paid attention to me; I always paid attention to them, always lived like a sheep, now no more. I place myself in this confinement of this house with the tree branches covering the front yard as I hide away. I live in power now, I live in my domain. A life without power was a life not worth having. I have power in this house, I control what is happening. I live and breathe it everyday. I made this house, into my soul. The centre of my soul lies in this room with Big Brother looking down on me as I write. I cannot start to repent the actions I have previously taken. I had been a coward and a mouse in front of people. Harassment and being stared down upon greeted me everyday. I slipped in a corner, and every time I slipped in that corner, I had done myself a deed, a deed which would eventually make this house where I slipped in. I hid away from society, lived in fear of what they would see me as now. Power is my childhood and teenage dream. I now have it. I dominate but I must dominate in other areas, not just for pleasing myself, I must now seek the people who had dominated me. I must stretch my arms and wake to find a better life that was eluding me so long ago. I come to realize that by completing this diary I have taken my soul, my Big Brother and freed it away from this special room. I created this room but I must also destroy it. My memoirs have been completed.
Mr. Jenkins.
Jenkins stretched his arms out wide, out of the boundaries of the mirrors. He realised that this was it; this was his escape from the confined bounds. He realised at the end of the diary that he was ready to face this world again. He stood up and reached for candlelight above him, the fire burned ever so brightly, drawing out all the darkness of his soul. The candle was left tilted on the diary. The flames licked the paper and extended its arms across the paper, encompassing it like a mother would its baby. His time was up, Big Brother was over. He marched out the enormous white doors and with a tremendous heave closed the door. The echoing sound reverberated among the many corridors of the mansion, filling it with the crash of a thousand mirrors that shrieked with the memories of the past. That was gone now, it was completed. The sun rays peaked through the tree branches.
Jenkins strode with arms stretched, towards the entrance of the door where a new world was awaiting him.
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