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The Grotesque figure stood in the doorway, the wood creaked, echoing his pounding footsteps. The smell of rotting eggs and dust waft through the air, consuming all around it; John fell to the floor, drops of rain signaling the end; and darkness enclosing.
1987
I awoke suddenly, reaching towards the wall my hand scanned the surface of the rough spiraling wood; running across the paths and trails which many years of rot and decay had etched in it’s surface. Much had changed since that fateful day so many years ago. I reached up and felt the scars which by a tattered hand, and a small jeweled dagger, had plunged me into eternal darkness. I reached towards the rotting frame, and scanned the shattered glass, although I could not see it, I knew that their was a young brown haired girl about my age, who looked almost identical to myself, and a smiling couple.
Like flying birds in the moonlit sky, daggers of vibrant white covered the ground. I awoke immediately, reaching towards the shattered window, warm liquid costively flowed from my finger, as if it was cleansing my tattered hands. By this wound, I swore, he would find that man again.
1983
Sweat ran down my face, landing in the dirt and dissolving within a matter of seconds. Pounding hooves and a loud snort signaled that I was not moving fast enough. I picked up another bail of hay and threw it over the gate. I quickly followed the hay and flew into the air landing squarely next a huge brown horse and jumped on, within a matter of seconds I was effortlessly gliding by the terrain.
Flames eroded the flesh of my past, the purple sky mixing with flames slowly burning away all I knew. Footsteps pounded towards the small shack, and the door let out yelp as it swung open. His mother, father, and sister lie dead on the floor, and a tall shadow above them. The soft snickering still resonating through the air, before I knew it; I was never to see again.
Something brushed against him, stabbing at his neck. He felt around and found that he was laying a soft bed lined with feathers. He immediately sat up and looked around. Water rolled gently down his cheeks, cleansing his burned face. “I’m glad you’re alright” sounded a soft voice in the doorway. He stood up and softly he walked towards the door. Swaying back and forth he walked towards the doorway, as he floor creaked under his wait.
My knees buckled and I fell to the ground, my conscious will slipping away, the demon within taking its place. It was then that I realized, I had killed them, the very man whom I had wished to kill since that horrible tragedy; was simply a fragment of myself. In a flash reality hit me, my reality, the one which I hid myself behind for these fourteen years; to keep me from myself. There were often times in which everything seemed to fade, and when I awoke the animals in the barn would be slaughtered. My parents only told me that a pack of wild dogs, or a fire had killed the animals. I never thought that they would be lying. The thought of me doing such a terrible deed was incomprehensible to my young mind, and why wouldn’t it be. I realized that these iron bars which held back my other self had broken, and I saw no other conclusion
I watched the moon shine gently upon the water, feeling remorse only for staining the water red. Soon I would find my eternal rest. As I reached into my pocket, I took out a lone dagger, which would end my life.
- by Master Biffle |
- Fiction
- | Submitted on 04/11/2009 |
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- Title: Dagger
- Artist: Master Biffle
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Description:
I worked very hard on this and really hope it's not too confusing because I know sometimes even I get lost when Im reading it back to myself.
I apprecciate reviews and hope everybody likes it.
FIVE STARS! - Date: 04/11/2009
- Tags: dagger wound bird poem
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