Sunday, October 24, 2010
Week of October 24th blog question
Directions: Each member of each blog group must write their own Gothic Literature short story using their understanding of the tenents of Gothic Literature. For this week only, you have to write and post your Gothic Literature stories for your members to read and discuss. Good Luck!
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NOX NOCTIS VOS INTEREO
ReplyDeleteOh please, dont think me mad, but what I have accomplished was something meant for a legendary title. maybe something like, "King Slayer." Yes, indeed, I have proceeded so wonderfully that I cant even imagine how one could find me mad. Twas a deep, dark winter night in Redemptio Adveho. The woman was sweet, never unkind to me, but there was something about her that disturbed me about her. Oh, yes I remember it was her voice. It was raspy and it drove me insane. Sounded something like nails on concrete. Aliza King, was her name. She was the mistress of Francois King. Francois left to visit his other mistress in France. Oh, that night I proceeded with great caution. The mistress was in the tub, you see, and as I was the maid I was to fetch her some wine for her to sip on while she bathed. For the day, I did everything she asked when she asked, genius eh? She is non the wiser. I proceeded with necessary caution into her bathroom, because I really didnt want her to scream and tell the neighbors what I had done. I knocked and listened for her raspy voice to regard me to entering the bathroom chamber. That will be the last time I heard that god awful voice of hers! I proceeded with my teeth clenched sightly, ha! She wouldnt be the wiser. I am so smart! I gave her the wine, quickly wrapped my hands around her throat, and drug her under the water. She splashed for a moment, but I help strong and after a few minutes she was dead! ha! That voice that ruined me for so long was gone! Now, I had to clear the body! I grabbed a knife, chopped her up, and baked her into ten large pies, which I will take the the shelter tomorrow. I slept like a baby, twas true. I was awoken to the sound of loud raps upon the house door. The police were there because they were told of suspicious activity from the neighbors last night. I told them Francois King and the mistress went to France. I was so confident in my hidings that I even offered them one of my pies! Then suddenly the police's voice became raspier. Was he taunting me? It was awful! "Here! The woman I killer her and baked her into pies!" Ah, the madness! The Voice! Make it stop! (AVERY DARGIE)
-Your story (Avery Dargie) has very effective dialogue in it. “‘Here! The woman I killed her and baked her into pies!' Ah, the madness! The Voice! Make it stop!" That reminds me a lot of the narrator in "Tell Tale Heart" and how he reacted when he started to feel dazed about the thought of hearing the old man's heart beating. Also, the dialogue brings out a lot of the narrator's true personality of her actually being crazy.
ReplyDeleteTo tell you the truth, I find it humorous when in the story it states that the narrator actually “dissected” Aliza King's body parts and baked them into pies (since I never heard of a gothic literature story of people getting turned into pies.)Also, I just think it brings out a lot of creativity inside you. The only part I find a little confusing about this story is near the end when it talks about the police's voice becoming raspier. Could you be a little more descriptive as to how raspy the voice was? Such as “Then suddenly, the police’s voice became raspier. And not only that, it sounded almost like…like…nails on concrete! Oh no not her! It can’t be!”
Overall I think you did a very good job with the story. (Athena Baker.)
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ReplyDeleteThe truth behind Innocence(Part one)
ReplyDeleteI knew Rickey since I was very little. In fact, he was my one and only best friend in the whole wide world. Not only was he very sweet towards me, he was also intelligent and very brave, kind of like InuYasha or Harry Potter maybe. So whenever I had a bad day at school or if I ever got attacked by school bullies, Rickey was always the one who came to my rescue. Some kids say he’s kind of strange though since he had a great interest in everything that’s gloomy and “dark,” kind of gothic to put it that way. I didn’t mind his sense of sense of style though, that was until one day in eighth grade, when he revealed to me the truth about himself…
“Hey Melody, wanna come on over to mean old Mr. Griffins’ after school today? It’ll be loads of fun if you know what I mean.” He asked me during lunch that day in the library where we usually hang out.
“Loads of fun with Mr. Griffins? Rickey, you’re not planning to….”
Just before I could say anything else, Rickey covered my mouth and shushed at me to be quiet. He then whispered in my ear, “Yes, yes I am. Now listen carefully Melody, old man Griffins has been terrorizing us and other kids around the neighborhood since we were little. And besides, you hate him two, right? He almost killed you for no reason when he saw you walking on the street at seven years old with your favorite teddy bear. Plus, he threatened to kill you and your family just by simply snatching your bear and tearing it to shreds with a pair of sharp scissors. Don’t you remember that?”
I nodded “yes” nervously and allowed him to continue on, remembering how upset and scared I was when Mr. Griffins uttered towards me when I was seven, “I’ll get you little girl the next I see you, and when I do, I’ll kill not only you, but the rest of your family as well” as I watching him cut pieces of my bear’s “flesh” and take out all of the white, cotton like stuffing that was inside it.
“So here’s the plan, first, after school, go straight off down towards where old man Griffins’ rickety old house is. I’ll be waiting for you with two daggers in my hands. After that, I’ll give you more instructions. You got it?” urged Rickey.
I nodded “yes” nervously again. Suddenly the bell rang for lunch to end. Rickey removed his hand from my mouth and gave me a quick little hug before he went off to History class. I never saw Rickey act or say anything like that in my entire life. Then again, Mr. Griffins was a really bad man (even though he’s probably around eighty years old or something by now.) I mean, a person who had really done something terrible in his life should deserve to be punished right? (Athena Baker)
The Truth Behind Innocence(Part two)
ReplyDeleteLater that day, I told my parents when I finally got home from school that I was going to go to Rickey’s house to help finish up a project. After getting their approval, I quickly ran on over towards Mr. Griffins’ house where Rickey stood with two, old fashioned daggers in both of his hands. He gave one of the daggers to me and told me to hang on to it. Mr. Griffin’s house was tall, old, and rickety. Everywhere you look, all around the house you would see fallen pieces of wood and shingles on the dried up yellow grass that he didn’t bother to water. And the worst part about it was there were cobwebs all over the outside and inside of his windows (some of the cobwebs which happen to have big, hairy, spiders on it, yuck!) So to everyone living close by Mr. Griffins, the house looked almost like a gigantic pile of monster garbage (not to mention it even smells like garbage.) After getting the dagger, Rickey told me to grab a rock and throw it at one of his windows. When I took a closer look at the front of his house however, I happened to notice Mr. Griffin’s himself, simply napping on his front porch. For a blank moment I wasn’t so sure if I should do it. I mean, isn’t killing someone really going past the line? Mr. Griffins was a terrible guy in the past, but hey, who said people can’t change many years later? Not only that, he seemed to be real lonely. What if, perhaps, something terrible happened to Mr. Griffins in the past, something like a death in the family or a friendship betrayal? For whatever the reason, I couldn’t bring myself to actually doing it.
(Athena Baker)
The Truth Behind Innocence(Part three)
ReplyDeleteSoon by the time I knew it, Mr. Griffin’s eyelids were already opened as wide as an owl’s. He took one good look at me from a distance and shouted, “DARN KIDS! WHY DON’T THEY EVER LEAVE A POOR MAN LIKE ME ALONE FOR CRYING OUT LOUD! “I wanted to run away, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. Rickey, noticing me acting all timid and naïve decided to charge towards Mr. Griffins with the knife in his hands. Poor Mr. Griffins was defenseless, but of course deep down inside I still find him to be a monster he was when I last saw him. I watched as Rickey tried and tried his best to get rid of that mean old Mr. Griffins for good. But during the battle however, Mr. Griffins somehow got a hold of Rickey’s dagger and stuck it underneath his neck. Stroke by stroke, stab by stab, Mr. Griffins poured out poor Rickey’s blood. I couldn’t stand seeing the sight of my own friend and protection getting anymore. So finding it to be really cruel, I quickly charged towards Mr. Griffins and with my own dagger, I stabbed the beast near his heart till he was knocked dead and cold on the dried up, yellow grass.
For a moment I felt a great sense of triumph. In fact, I felt like I had finally gotten rid of the source of evil for good. That was, until I heard an evil sounding voice that said in a raspy voice, “Well done Melody. I knew you had it in you.” I turned around to see where the voice was coming from. The voice happened to come from Rickey. For some reason though, he wasn’t unconscious like I thought he’d be. Instead, he was standing perfectly on his two feet (of course he had some blood dripping down from his mouth in the most disgusting way possible.) Also, both of his eyes were glowing bright, chrisom, red. He walked towards me, limping as he did so and started wrapping his arms around my waist. “You just murdered someone with your own two hands. That is true work of evil you know. It’s cruel yeah, but oh well; sometimes the world can go mad at times you know.”
I nodded solemnly as I buried my face in his bloody shirt. I couldn’t bear the thought of knowing that even a sweet, young girl like me could ever commit such a hideous crime. But of course it happened anyway, and there was nothing I could do to reverse it. Suddenly, thoughts of suicide and blood were circling around in my brain like ravens in the dark, night sky. For a moment I felt like I had the urge to kill someone, someone perhaps as stupid and pathetic as me. But knowing that I was still too weak to do so, I begged Rickey to kill me. Just so that hopefully I won’t get myself in trouble with the police. Rickey, however, only looked down upon me with a smile and gave me a kiss on the lips. At first when he did so, I wanted to run away from him and perhaps kick him at his stomach. However with his kiss being so sweet and so relaxing, I couldn’t bring myself to do it. Even when I felt myself becoming weak, and parts of my skin peeling off from my body like a thin layer of onion flesh being torn by a person whose eyes were filled with tears, I didn’t care. For his kiss was really something to die for…
(Athena Baker)
Cypress Austin
ReplyDeleteKnowledge (first part)
I tried my hardest to put up with Ms. Sapientia, but this was it, she had crossed me for the last time. Now I have to tell you exactly what has happened, for in the next hour I will face the principal. Throughout my entire school career, I have showed an interest in math and naturally excelled in the class. However, this all changed when Ms. Sapientia was appointed to be the middle school math teacher. Every student in the entire middle school dreaded second period when we had her class, it was the most terrible experience any student could experience. But even though the class was terrible, there were many interesting things in the room she taught in. For one, there was only one light in the class, which came from a very luminous light that was positioned directly over Ms. Sapientia’s head. The walls were covered in framed documents showing her various degrees and awards she obtained throughout the years and there was an owl mount that sat on her desk, which had piercing yellow eyes that made the owl seem as if it was still alive. Ms. Sapientia was also a strange figure her self. She was very young and very muscular for a woman. She also had grey eyes and long brown hair that was usually concealed under a hat. Eventually, after a few months, she forcefully settled in and school life was back to normal. One day, returning from recess, we entered her classroom, surprised because she had an unusual smirk on her face. We sat down cautiously and when everyone has finally been seated, she exclaimed, “Pop quiz!”. The whole class shuttered in disgust and a few sighs could be heard. I, myself was not troubled at all, I understood exactly what we had been learning in class and even studied a little extra at home every day. She passed out this quiz and everything was dead silent, no minds could be “heard” thinking.
Cypress Austin
ReplyDeleteKnowledge (second part)
I rushed through the quiz, smiling, and then checked over my answers a few times before I handed it in. I rose, approached her desk slowly and placed my quiz on her desk confidently. Before I could even leave, she picked up the quiz, looked it over for about 15 seconds and printed in red pen a large “F” at the top of the page and told me to get my parents so sign it. I grew pale, twitched, shuttered and finally when I had processed what had just happened, I looked at her with eyes full of fire. This is the moment I swore revenge on Ms. Sapientia. I went home, forged my father’s signature and began to contemplate about how I could embarrass Ms. Sapientia the way she had embarrassed me. I had spent all night inventing idea after idea, but nothing good enough came to me. Finally, late in the night, an idea popped in my head. What if I wrote hear an death threat, one that would make her turn pale, one that would make her shutter, one that would make her feel how I had felt! Yes, this was what I was going to do. I began to devise the most evil, gruesome letter that I could, describing every little detail about what was going to happen to her and at the end, I signed it under the alias “the red student”. I figured she wouldn’t know which one of us had did it, considering there is well over 500 students in my grade alone, and everyone I knew failed the quiz too. That day when she went out for lunch, I sneaked into her room, as quiet as a mouse, a planted the terrifying piece of parchment on her desk. There was no way anyone had seen me, my plan had been a success. The day went on normally, until finally we had her class. I could hardly wait to see the look on her face when we entered. Sure enough, upon entering everyone could notice the pale tint that coated her skin, even under the bright lamp she looked as white as a ghost. I walked up to her desk again, and handed her my signed quiz, which she took in one of her trembling hands. I walked back to my seat filled with joy, I almost laughed out loud. However, something was not right, after she had finished looking over my quiz, she looked directly at me with a vicious glare that led me to believe she knew something that I didn’t. It was my turn again to be pale. After class, she called me over and asked me “How dumb do you think I am?”. She showed me the death threat and the quiz; the signatures were almost exactly alike! She immediately sent me to the office, and now here I am, walking into the principal’s office to be expelled.
Avery,
ReplyDeleteI really enjoyed reading your story, it sounds very similar to Tell-Tale heart.The part I liked the most was how the narrators bakes the woman into pies and than plans to feed them to the shelter, I found it creative how you swapped that for hiding the body under the floor boards. The only parts I'd say you should work on are: Story length, description (the reader only knows that the woman has a raspy voice and nothing else) and typos ( for example in the second to last line it says "killer" where killed would be appropriate. But overall, well done, this really sounded like something Poe would write. :) -Cypress
Athena,
ReplyDeleteThe part that really stood out to me in your story was the description. It seems like you spent a lot of time describing everything and that is exactly what happens in gothic literature. It also seems liked you put lot's of effort and time into your story and I can really tell the difference. I also found it interesting how you described the fight scene between Rickey and the old man. A minor error I noticed was that there are a few typos and the story can get a bit off topic at times (ie. the Harry Potter, Inuyasha comparisons). In all, this was a fun read and I encourage you to keep writing! Good job!
Cyprus,
ReplyDelete-I think you did a real good job with your story. In some ways it made me laugh (when you described the teacher as being muscular and short.) I thought it was very clever of you to create a story about a boy getting revenge on his own teacher. I find that idea to be quite original and it surely makes you stand out more. One thing I would work on is organizing your paragraphs a bit so I can actually see what is happening next in the story (okay me two, but of course BlogSpot isn't really a website in which it likes smaller paragraphs.) Nice description of the setting by the way (the degrees and how the teacher's classroom looked. It surely made me think of the classroom like a prison cell.) Curious question though, why did you make the person forge his signature under the name, "the red student?" Just thought it sounded kind of neat, so overall, nice job.
-Athena Baker
NOX NOCTIS VOS INTEREO (EDITED) (Avery Dargie)
ReplyDeleteOh please, dont think me mad, but what I have accomplished was something meant for a legendary title. maybe something like, "King Slayer." Yes, indeed, I have proceeded so wonderfully that I cant even imagine how one could find me mad. Twas a deep, dark winter night in Redemptio Adveho. The woman was sweet, never unkind to me, but there was something about her that disturbed me about her. Truthfully, to this day I will sometimes forget what is was, but wait oh, yes I remember it was her voice. It was raspy and it drove me insane. Sounded something like nails on concrete or when your teacher in school scrapes her nails slowly on the chalkboard in order to gain the classes attention. Aliza King, was her name; she was a beautiful lady with a porcelain skin and a long bodice. She was the mistress of Francois King. Francois left to visit his other mistress in France. Oh, that night I proceeded with great caution. I drank my wine, like I did every night. All the later in the night, the wine made her voice sound worse and worse. The mistress was in the tub, you see, and as I was the maid I was to fetch her some wine for her to sip on while she bathed. For the day, I did everything she asked when she asked, genius eh? She is none the wiser. I proceeded with necessary caution into her bathroom, because I really didnt want her to scream and tell the neighbors what I had done. I knocked and listened for her raspy voice to regard me to entering the bathroom chamber. That will be the last time I heard that god awful voice of hers! Why cant she just keep quiet; her voice is so awful it could make a child scream with annoyance. I proceeded with my teeth clenched sightly, ha! She wouldnt be the wiser. I am so smart! I set down the wine on the floor, she puzzled for a second what I had done, quickly wrapped my hands around her throat, and drug her under the water. She splashed for a moment, but I help strong and after a few minutes she was dead! ha! To celebrate I drank the wine that I was to give to her; the sweet familiar friend calmed me until I was about to think clearly at what I was going to do, but something stopped. That voice, that voice that ruined me for so long was gone! Now, I had to clear the body, so that her husband or anyone else would not be able to find her! I grabbed a knife, chopped her up, and baked her into ten large pies, which I will take the the shelter tomorrow. When Francois was going to come home I was going to tell him that the Azira had left him and went back to her home city because she found about his other mistress in France.I slept like a baby, twas true. I was awoken to the sound of loud raps upon the house door. The police were there because they were told of suspicious activity from the neighbors last night. I told them Francois King and the mistress went to France. I was so confident in my hidings that I even offered them one of my pies! Then suddenly the police's voice became raspier. Was he taunting me? It was awful! "Here! The woman I killer her and baked her into pies!" Ah, the madness! The Voice! Make it stop!