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The Flight is Far, But Take My hand, We Can Make it.
My College Essay: Write the First Page of a Novel...
I hear a loud scream outside my window; the sound waves reverberated in my ears. The cry was close, closer than I wanted. My heart was beating at a thousand paces per second, and it would only hasten in the fear and excitement of the moment. My feet shake against the floorboards of my room, and the rain made a pitter-patter against the glass windows. I shift my eyes from right to left; trying to sense which one the scream came from. The weakness within me was creeping upwards, and my stomach felt like a pit of despair. A knot in my throat and the feeling of nothing was a combination deadly to my senses. Jittery, I chose one window and tiptoed towards it. My breathing was pacing back and forth, and my eyes followed every inch of my slow progress. Taking in a deep breath, I leapt towards the window in one fell stroke and exhaled against the windowpane to find nothing there. My mind raced through all possible explanations, the sound was so real; so close. My hands press against the glossy surface, as the steam began to etch the creases in my fingers. I curled my hand against the window’s latch, and tried to turn and press it open. It was a very faulty thing. It gets stuck all the time, “St..upid…windo..” As I press with a little more force it lashes open with a sudden strength that almost hurled me out the window. I tried to draw it close again, but the window was stuck ajar and I didn’t feel like attempting the feat again. I sighed in slight disappointment, but my eyes crept towards the dreary sky. The clouds were a shaded gray, spotted with the occasional black while the sun’s glow gave the tops a white radiance. A silence swept across the breeze and the rain’s resonance echoed in my ears; peaceful. The downpour lashed its way under my window, splashing me with flecks of moisture. My hands draw upward, pressing softly against my skin. My fingertips lightly pushed, compressing my cheek into a slight ripple, eventually relenting and caressing the water away from my face. The flow of water from under my window didn’t relent, so I seized myself backward in order to escape the rain. Doing only a fragment of the turn, I freeze. My feet don’t dare quiver; they lie still against the damp wooden floor. My legs tremble from the inside out, and my weakened appearance only fueled the fear inside me. My lungs breathed in heavily, and as my head bent in a stoop, my eyes slithered upward as slowly as possible. In front of me stood a figure; a shadow, tall with dark, cold eyes. Eyes that could pierce into my mind see my every thought, my every fear, see my soul. I took a step backward, barely able to will my body to move. My heart began to pound harder and harder in my chest, and my breathing began to accelerate faster; coming only in short, quick gasps. “D-d-dad?” , my very words echoing a sound of unknown, even in myself. My feet take another step backward, but the shadow doesn’t move. His eyes are fixated on my every move and I can feel his gaze; how I can feel his gaze. Like an invisible pressure against my body, the cold eyes pressing down upon my flesh. I press my feet backwards, going from heel to toe, but one foot slips on the puddle of water behind me while the other relents. I began to plunge downwards, until I struck the ground with a force that sent a shock wave underneath me and within me as well. My clothes soak quickly with water, and droop against my skin. My hands slip back and forth, as I try desperately to pull myself backwards. My eyes were locked on his face; the whites of his eyes began to show through the dark, widening with a chance to get the upper hand. I try frantically to get back up. My damp clothes feel the wall under the window sill, as my ears feel his steps reaching towards me. My feet kick against the floor, flailing to get up. My hands hopelessly pull on the window for sport as his face came towards the light shown through the window, his face contorted into a menacing grin. “I’m not your father; I’m your worst nightmare…”

I wrote this for my 11th grade end of year project, so I was wondering if anyone who viewed this liked it. Leave me a comment whether you did or didn't thanks. 3nodding


_ x _S a b r a e l_ x _
Community Member
  • [11/23/10 04:17am]
  • [01/27/07 03:37pm]
  • [01/13/07 03:22pm]
  • [11/26/06 04:34pm]


  • User Comments: [4]
    GO you!
    I love it, even if I'm not a fan of 1st-person stories.

    I especially like how you set my mind to thinking al sorts of thoughts as the father came in. My breath stoked, I honestly was already thinking ahead to where he would either get raped or god knows what.

    I wonder what grade you got for it? ><


    comment LovinEvil · Community Member · Sat Jan 13, 2007 @ 03:32pm
    actually, I tried to do it from a woman's perspective. sweatdrop

    comment _ x _S a b r a e l_ x _ · Community Member · Sat Jan 13, 2007 @ 05:02pm
    The story is really good, and was interesting to me because anything could happen as it is read.

    comment Irei Shourai · Community Member · Sun Apr 01, 2007 @ 04:52pm
    The story is really good, and was interesting to me because anything could happen as it is read.

    comment Irei Shourai · Community Member · Sun Apr 01, 2007 @ 04:58pm
    User Comments: [4]

     
     
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