Darkness, a Scary Thought - Creative Writing
CREATIVE WRITING: Darkness, a scary thought
I faintly remember what happened that night, that’s the reason why I’m sitting here. I can’t think clearly, see straight and yet I continue to see glimpses of him, his baby blue eyes, greasy black hair and oily face that sheds a smile every so often. I didn’t mean for everything to be this way, I feel as if it’s my fault, that maybe I’m the suspect. I feel as if there’s a blunt knife digging deeper into the guilty walls of my soul. As I peer around the room, I notice one streak of sunlight, fighting for survival in the dark and dampened room.
Faintly, I hear footsteps awaken from nowhere. Now my heart is racing, as if it’s about to jump out from my skin. As I look towards the door, the footsteps come to a halt. A shadow emerges from the darkness, and the door creaks open. The ground pounds as the steel cap boots from the black clothed detective hit the floor. He has a cold blooded voice that sends a shiver running down my spine. He begins the meeting with ‘why’. ‘Why did you even think you could have the slightest chance of getting away with it’? Many thoughts flash through my mind as the question ‘why’ is brought up.
I think to myself, there is nothing to be afraid of, they have no solid evidence and I’ll be alright. Although, when they let me go the other night, I felt a rush of guilt as I left the station. I feel good now, but I know I have to finish what I had started. I packed my bag, printed off the flight ticket and picked up the matches. I stepped out of the door, and had one last peak of my mother’s house, which had been the only place where I was able to be myself. Many memories have been discovered in this comforting home, but I know this is what I have to do. I ignite the match, and place it on the carpet. I continue down the driveway, and as I have one last glance back, I shed a tear as I discover the terrifying roar as the house bursts into flames.
As I walk down Alexandria lane, I feel as if
I faintly remember what happened that night, that’s the reason why I’m sitting here. I can’t think clearly, see straight and yet I continue to see glimpses of him, his baby blue eyes, greasy black hair and oily face that sheds a smile every so often. I didn’t mean for everything to be this way, I feel as if it’s my fault, that maybe I’m the suspect. I feel as if there’s a blunt knife digging deeper into the guilty walls of my soul. As I peer around the room, I notice one streak of sunlight, fighting for survival in the dark and dampened room.
Faintly, I hear footsteps awaken from nowhere. Now my heart is racing, as if it’s about to jump out from my skin. As I look towards the door, the footsteps come to a halt. A shadow emerges from the darkness, and the door creaks open. The ground pounds as the steel cap boots from the black clothed detective hit the floor. He has a cold blooded voice that sends a shiver running down my spine. He begins the meeting with ‘why’. ‘Why did you even think you could have the slightest chance of getting away with it’? Many thoughts flash through my mind as the question ‘why’ is brought up.
I think to myself, there is nothing to be afraid of, they have no solid evidence and I’ll be alright. Although, when they let me go the other night, I felt a rush of guilt as I left the station. I feel good now, but I know I have to finish what I had started. I packed my bag, printed off the flight ticket and picked up the matches. I stepped out of the door, and had one last peak of my mother’s house, which had been the only place where I was able to be myself. Many memories have been discovered in this comforting home, but I know this is what I have to do. I ignite the match, and place it on the carpet. I continue down the driveway, and as I have one last glance back, I shed a tear as I discover the terrifying roar as the house bursts into flames.
As I walk down Alexandria lane, I feel as if