z

Young Writers Society



The Sixth Night

by Audy


His name was Simon Clems and she was to be his Mrs. Clems –very, very soon. Wedding preparations had already been prepared, phone calls had already been phoned, and contacts had already been contacted. Everything was going as planned. They had invited a total of seventy people, decided on an outdoors wedding, and chocolate cake –they even agreed on the band. Things were going smoothly and for once in Miranda’s life, everything seemed to have been perfect. Her parents adored him, her friends admired him, and he astonished her. He was the one, that was what everyone had said, and it was about time too.

She was a special case –Miranda. She had countless bad relationships in the past and terror stories that would shiver anyone’s spine. Her experience with men were always gruesome –she was already six times a widow, before she had met him.

Sometimes, she had nightmares…always about him. Always about him leaving her, she didn’t want to go through that pain with him—and for the sixth time since, she awoke in the middle of the night screaming, dreading what she knew was to come. Not anymore…Miranda thought determinedly, she will break her luck…she would do anything to keep that from happening ever again. Anything.

The following morning the beloved couple awoke unusually early to settle pre-marriage affairs. He picked her up, in his old red truck –which most resembled a wheezing tractor than any vehicle of the current century. Vintage, she had called it and he had laughed. It was the most peculiar of mornings that day, the clouds hung over low in the sky, and the day appeared not much different from an autumn night.

As they drove on through the country roads, passing by small farms and villages, a couple of stray cows here and there, Miranda noticed the forlorn countryside—the grass practically gray, the trees almost dead, the wilderness pretty much lifeless. It seemed time stood still inside the slowly moving truck, and the silence engulfed the area, until it almost drove her crazy. He never said a word, though, he just kept smiling and driving, just the way she liked it. He was perfect for her. She continued to gaze out her cracked window, coated with a layer of filthy dust, and she felt her heart pounding all of a sudden, as she noticed the approaching hillside. Just a couple more bends, and they would arrive…to the house that she was yearning to buy, to the ranch that would suit the two of them most fine.

She imagined herself, growing old in that house, with their six kids running loose in the fields, and her Simon tending to her every needs—as he always had. She loved him, yet she despised him…she hated him for torturing her. How would a guy like him, ever love someone like her? And the question resonated in her mind, in her heart, in her soul…and in the deepest of her conscience she knew of the end that would come and she knew he would leave her. She counted every second of everyday waiting for it to finally happen, waiting for the torture to end.

Suddenly, she felt her body lunge forward as the vehicle stopped, in the middle of a desolate area…where her dream house stood waiting, and the countryside bare of any witnesses for miles and miles. She snapped back to the present and stepped out of the car, where her Simon had already opened the door for her. Her Simon had already reached for her hand and the two were already running up the lawn and onto the old creaking porch of their desired ranch.

The ranch was immense, it had rooms for each of their future children and even a basement –Miranda loved basements. It even had a parlor and was designed by a very old-fashioned architect, whom Miranda knew personally. It was the perfect home, and each night she would tell him about this ranch, and each day she had yearned for the day she would come to buy it.

The house was a faded red-violet color, and was in terrible need of a new paint-job. There were few windows and the door stood twice her height…the doorknob was a metallic silver heart and the entire house was covered in intricate vines, hugging the house tightly against the bitter mid-autumn breeze.

Her Simon bent over to retrieve a silver key from the mat below the door, he smiled at her and eagerly stuck the key in it’s place, simultaneously turning the knob and pushing the door wide open. He held out his hand and motioned her in first, but not before dismantling the silky spider web made fresh across the entrance, as if forbidding them entrance.

She stepped inside and looked up at the golden chandelier swaying in their presence. Looking around she saw nowhere to go, but a ridiculously long dimly lit hallway that branched out into a marvelous sitting room.

“This place used to be an inn.” Her Simon said, referring to all the many doors along the hall, but it wasn’t the unusually tall doors that caught her attention, but instead the numerous and wondrous portraits that hung along the wall-space—so lifelike and so beautiful. The inside of the house itself, was unlike what she could ever expect, it was warm somehow and the air was stuffy and the scent of the place smelled of calming oil, yet her nerves felt alarmed and down her back trickled down a bead of cold sweat, not at all attributed to the climate.

She startled, as she heard the door close tight behind her and she felt her husband’s arm around her shoulders, she noticed strangely, that he smelled of oil as well and she knew in the deepest of her heart, that this was the day. This was her dream…

“Lovely, these paintings…” He said innocently, and he dragged her along further from the door and stopped at the first frame, where a gruesome picture of a beheaded lady was depicted. She didn’t take a second glance, yet her Simon seemed to be surveying the picture intently. She on the other hand, was more interested at the plaque below the painting, and she realized that below each portrait appeared a caption explaining the details of the paintings—all of which were rather morbid pictures of death.

Wendy Louis: Murdered by her husband

Miranda swallowed, a dryness residing in her throat, and her heart pounded ever louder. Yet, she couldn’t take her eyes of them…she almost heard the desperate cries, almost felt the pain, almost smelt the blood. She moved on to the next portrait of a man who had stabbed himself with a dagger, and the one after that was of a child drowning. Each and everyone of these pictures were so lifelike, that she was almost afraid to touch it, afraid perhaps that she would feel the cold sharp blade…but she reached out to one anyway, needing assurance that this was not real, and her fingers trembled as she reached out to a painting of a man being swallowed by a wolf. She expected to feel the soft, ragged fur…and felt relief when her fingers touched the rough canvas.

She looked back towards her Simon, who was smiling delightfully at her for some apparent reason and she felt her stomach drop. Time was approaching...if only she could reverse it.

“Let’s go…” She stuttered, heading toward the door, but her fiancé blocked the way, pushing her onwards, further and further into the mysterious house.

“Not yet, love…let’s keep looking. I want to see more.” He laughed and it was enough to tingle her spine. She felt her heart pounding and she felt her mind about to lose it. Any moment now and it would be time. She dreaded it, but she expected it—she knew it was time.

Her Simon never ceased to be interested in the paintings, and with each passing picture after the next, he gave a small chuckle, as if enjoying himself –a man hung by the neck, a woman spewing out poison, a set of twins in a horrid car accident…

She patiently waited; the seconds counting down in her mind, today would be the day. She knew it…and she suddenly heard strange voices in her head, telling her to run for it, telling her to leave him…but she didn’t want that. She didn’t want to upset him—she knew she was trapped. Her Simon was quicker and stronger and fiercer. Her Simon had her right where he wanted…

And then, they finally ambled down to the sitting room, where at the wall above a large and ornate fireplace hung a piece much larger than the others, and she was relieved when she saw the contents of the painting covered by a wine-velvet curtain. She noticed that her fiancé appeared to have a slight frown on his face.

“I wonder what is behind this painting…” But she knew before he reached over to tear the curtains away. She knew, because she could read the bolded print delicately carved in the golden plaque and she feared this painting most of all, because it surprised her—because she hadn’t expected it, yet it confirmed her thoughts all along.

Simon Clems: Betrayed by his only love.

And when the time ticked on closer, and the seconds flew by, and the curtains came off, she saw it. She dreaded looking, but she saw it clearly. Her Simon…lying dead, blood covering his body…and a withering figure next to him, mourning or laughing, she couldn’t tell, but she recognized the figure. She knew the figure very well and it was as if she was looking through a mirror. There were the same almond-shaped eyes and the same pointed nose. There were the same freckles on her cheeks and the same dark brown hair. There was the same pale, deathly skin…

Her Simon stared at the painting, glaring at it almost as if making out the scene…and poor Miranda stood shocked, her body involuntarily trembling and her mind forever lost—and her heart forever broken—because she knew, more than knew, that now was the time.

“What is this?” Her fiancé’s soft whispering tones called out and he turned back to face her, a changed man indeed—for his eyes were now murderous and his handsome face vicious.

“You betrayed me?” He accused, pointing at the wretched painting. The completely inaccurate painting…

Miranda took a step back, her hand over her mouth and tears streamed from her eyes as she frantically shook her head, unable to voice her thoughts, but her Simon, her dearly beloved Simon never saw her, his eyes shut in disbelief. His face soon started to transform, now, a deep tinge of red. She took a couple more steps back and slowly he started to follow, but she knew it now more than ever and she knew that her time was up.

“No, don’t say that—” She tried to console him, her voice breaking yet soothing all the same. “I never betrayed you. You know that.” She skidded now, inching ever closer to the door, but he always caught up…he always stood right in front of her, and if she were to turn around and make a run for it, he would catch her—like one would pluck a delicate feather.

“I love you—I always had…” He whispered, tears now streaming from his own eyes. He reached for her, but she was expecting it, she twirled around, narrowly escaping his grasp.

“I-I know…” She said, and as she talked she took several more steps and never did her eyes break his gaze.

“And…you love me?” He said, his voice too, breaking and he took a couple more steps towards her, and she took a couple more steps back and for all the while, it appeared as if the couple was moving in a passionate dance.

She felt the cold hard wooden door pressed against her back and she felt his warm soft chest pressed against her front –and she knew she was trapped, sandwiched between a rock and a hard place. Tears now violently fell down her cheeks and she felt him tremble against her and she simply wanted to speed time up again…she wanted to die and have it over with, but then she remembered, like a light in the shadows, the dream of the night before. The sixth night…when she was determined to never let this happen again. Her Simon stepped back and reached a hand in his pocket, his face now solemn and grave.

“I’m sorry Miranda—but if you can’t love me…nobody will.” Her Simon said, and he pulled out a slender sharp object…his bitter, gleaming, knife where the glint reflected off his gorgeous black eyes. And she frowned and she cried, and she kicked him in the shins and out the door she ran.

She gasped for her life, she didn’t attempt to run down the porch steps and instead she jumped over them, only to have tripped and landed on her weaken ankles, where her hand fell on something deathly sharp, and her blood drenched along her arm, and she saw to her horror that she had almost landed face-first on an ax. She didn't question why it was there, for she knew.

Then she heard her Simon cry, and violently lunge toward her—but she was determined to fight for her life, and she held the ax in her wounded hand and she swung with the little strength she had…

And she closed her eyes and dropped the ax, and she cried and cried into her knees, she didn’t need to hear her Simon’s shriek of pain, or the thudding of his body. She didn’t need to smell the blood or feel the impact of ax and body. She didn’t need to see his body, now lying motionless across the ground—she knew the scene, quite well to memory. The portrait…the picture…the dream, her mind was never found again. All she could think of was her Simon, her dear Simon…she had done it again.

Then, the sudden sound of a phone vibrating...she looked up and saw the sharp object her Simon had carried transform itself into a phone, and she ignored it, her weeping figure giggling. She looked up at the sky, the sun now started to rise…he was her seventh. Her time ticked on.


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Fri Jan 04, 2008 10:47 pm
JabberHut wrote a review...



Here's your second crit, my dear friend. ^_^

phone calls had already been [s]phoned[/s] made,...


Sounds better than the repetition of "phone." ^_^

...and contacts had already been contacted.


The repetition of "contact" is also irritating. I would be alright with it if the first segment held the same structure. But, seeing as it has not, it's necessary to change one of these. You can either replace the first bolded word with "friends" or "neighbors" or any other word, or you can change the last bolded word to "reached" or any other word.

Things were going smoothly and, for once in Miranda’s life,...


She was a special case –Miranda.


Replace hyphen with a comma.

Her experience with men were always gruesome –she was already six times a widow, before she had met him.


Get rid of that comma. If you're looking for a dramatic effect, use the triple dots. (...) Also, replace the hyphen with either a colon or a semicolon. A colon would probably work best.

Sometimes, she had nightmares…[s]always[/s] about him.


Italicize "him" at the end for better effect.

Always about him leaving her, she didn’t want to go through that pain with him—and for the sixth time since, she awoke in the middle of the night screaming, dreading what she knew was to come.


The first part of this sentence needs a rewrite. It's a bit confusing; I had to read it twice. Let's see what we can think up, eh? ^_^

She always thought he would leave her, and she didn't want to go through that pain.

By the way, for the sixth time since...what? Since her nightmares?

(Looking at these examples, I'm suggesting breaking this into two sentences rather than using the hyphen. ^_^)

Six times, she woke in the middle of the night, screaming, dreading what she knew as to come.

Change it as to how you want it. ^_^ But it gives the general idea of what I suggest would help.

He picked her up, in his old red truck –which most resembled a wheezing tractor than any vehicle of the current century.


Delete the comma and replace the hyphen with a comma. ^_^

It was the most peculiar of mornings [s]that day[/s], the clouds hung over low in the sky, and the day appeared not much different from an autumn night.


I would replace the first comma with a semicolon, then delete the second comma.

...Miranda noticed the forlorn countryside—the grass practically gray, the trees almost dead, the wilderness pretty much lifeless.


Here's the end of your run-on sentence. :wink: Replace the hyphen with a period, then make the second part its own sentence. The grass looked gray, the trees were dying, and the wilderness seemed lifeless.

She continued to gaze out her cracked window, coated with a layer of filthy dust, and she felt her heart pounding all of a sudden, as she noticed the approaching hillside.


Rewrite this to make it more dramatic. It's very close, I wouldn't change much of it. Only the punctuation. ^_^ She continued to gaze out her cracked window, coated with a layer of filthy dust, when her heart started pounding in her chest. They were approaching the hillside, their new home.

She imagined herself, growing old in that house...


Delete comma. ^_^

How would a guy like him, ever love someone like her?


Delete comma. ^_^

And the [s]question[/s] fact resonated in her mind, in her heart, in her soul…and in the deepest of her conscience that she knew [s]of[/s] the end [s]that[/s] would come [s]and she knew[/s] when he would leave her.


[s]Her[/s] Simon had [s]already[/s] reached for her hand and the two were [s]already[/s] started running up the lawn and onto the old creaking porch of their desired ranch.


The ranch was immense, it had rooms for each...


Replace comma with either the colon or semicolon.

It was the perfect home, and each night she would tell him about [s]this[/s] her dream ranch, and each day she had yearned for the day she would come to buy it.


Replace comma with a period and start the next sentence with "each." Also, replace one of those "day" phrases to, like, "every minute" or something. The repetition is a bit irritating. ^_^

The house was a faded red-violet color, and was in terrible need of a new paint-job.


Delete comma.

Her Simon bent over to retrieve a silver key from the mat below the door, he smiled at her and eagerly stuck the key in [s]it’s[/s] its place, simultaneously turning the knob and pushing the door wide open.


Another run-on, I'm afraid. ^^; Replace the first comma with a period.

Looking around, she saw nowhere to go


“This place used to be an inn.” Her Simon...


Wait, I thought they hired Miranda's friend, an architect, to build this place. Did I read something incorrectly? =/ Otherwise, the period should be a comma and "her" should be lowercased. ^_^

Her Simon said, referring to all the many doors along the hall, but it wasn’t the unusually tall doors that caught her attention, but instead the numerous and wondrous portraits that hung along the wall-space—so lifelike and so beautiful.


Run-on! XD Replace the third comma with a period so the next sentence would start with "instead." ...caught her attention. Instead, the numerous and wondrous portraits that hung along the wall filled her with awe; they were so lifelike and...beautiful!

The inside of the house itself, was unlike what she could ever expect, it was warm [s]somehow and[/s] , the air was stuffy, and the scent of the place smelled of calming oil, yet her nerves felt alarmed and down her back trickled [s]down[/s] a bead of cold sweat, not at all attributed to the climate.


Delete first comma. Replace second comma with a period.

She startled, as she heard the door close tight behind her [s]and[/s].[/s] she felt her husband’s arm around her shoulders, she noticed strangely, that he smelled of oil as well and she knew in the deepest of her heart, that this was the day.


Replace "startled" with something else like "jumped" or "gasped," and delete the comma following. ^_^ The second sentence should be written as: She felt her husband's arm lie around her shoulders and she noticed, strangely, the smell of oil on him. She made a sharp intake of breath as she realized, in the deepest depths of her heart, that this was the day. At least, something to the effect. ^_^

He said innocently, and he dragged her along further from the door and stopped at the first frame, where a gruesome picture of a beheaded lady was depicted.


Lower case "he" since he spoke previously (I didn't attach that here =/) and replace the first comma with a period so the next sentence starts with "He dragged..." Delete the comma after "frame."

She [s]on the other hand,[/s] was more interested at the plaque below the painting,


Wendy Louis: Murdered by her husband


You may have done this in the original copy, but I would italicize this since it's a quote from the plaque. That or put any quotations around it.

pounded ever louder. Yet, she couldn’t take her eyes of them…s


Replace period with a comma (lowercasing "yet"). :wink:

almost smelt the blood.


It's "smelled." :wink:

She looked back towards her Simon, who was smiling delightfully at her for some apparent reason and she felt her stomach drop.


Delete comma.

“Let’s go…” She stuttered,


Lowercase "she." ^_^

“Not yet, love…let’s keep looking. I want to see more.”


Replace the triple dots with a period. You use those triple dots almost too much, lol.

as if enjoying himself –a man hung by the neck, a woman spewing out poison, a set of twins in a horrid car accident…


Very well written. ^_^ Very good use of the hyphen and the triple dots. Bravo!

She patiently waited; the seconds counting down in her mind, today would be the day.


Would someone as panicky and worried as Miranda be waiting patiently? I would think they were impatient.

[s]And then,[/s] they finally ambled down to the sitting room, w


But she knew[b], before he reached over to tear the curtains away, what the curtain hid.


She knew, because she could read the bolded print delicately carved in the golden plaque. [s]and[/s] she feared this painting most of all, because it surprised her—[s]because[/s] she hadn’t expected it, yet it confirmed her thoughts all along.


Delete the first comma. Delete second comma. Replace the hyphen with a period, capitalizing "she."

Her fiancé’s soft whispering tones


Lowercase "her."

He accused, pointing at the wretched painting. The completely inaccurate painting…


Lowercase "he" and replace the period with a comma.

her dearly beloved Simon, never saw her,


She tried to console him, her voice breaking yet soothing all the same.


Lowercase "she".

he would catch her—like one would pluck a delicate feather.


Replace hyphen with comma.

“I love you—I always had…” He whispered, tears now streaming from his own eyes.


Lowercase "he," lol.

She said, and, as she talked, she took several more steps, [s]and[/s] never [s]did her eyes[/s] breaking [s]his gaze.[/s] looking away from him.


Lowercase "she".

He said, his voice too, breaking. [s]and[/s] he took a couple more steps towards her, and she took a couple more steps back, [s]and for[/s] all the while[s], it appeared[/s] appearing as if the couple was moving in a passionate dance.


Lowercase "he".

nobody will.” Her Simon said,


Replace period with comma and lowercase "her".

And she frowned and she cried, and she kicked him in the shins and out the door she ran.


Rewrite. ^_^ She started crying, kicking him in the shins, and running out the door. That's not very good, but you know what I mean, lol.

She gasped for her life, she didn’t attempt to run down the porch steps and instead she jumped over them, only to have tripped and landed on her weaken ankles, where her hand fell on something deathly sharp, and her blood drenched along her arm, and she saw to her horror that she had almost landed face-first on an ax. She didn't question why it was there, for she knew.


Holy cruds, lol. What a sentence! :shock:

She gasped when she approached the porch steps. She paused briefly before jumping over them, but tripped over her weakened ankles. Her hand fell on something deathly sharp, and blood streamed down her arm. She saw, to her horror, that she had almost landed face-first on an ax. However, she knew why it was there.

[s]Then[/s] she heard her Simon cry, and violently lunge toward her—but she was determined to fight for her life, and she held the ax in her wounded hand and she swung with the little strength she had…


Delete first comma. Replace hyphen with comma. ...fight for her life, and she picked up the ax in her wounded hand, swinging with the little strength she had left.

[s]And[/s] she closed her eyes and dropped the ax, and she cried and cried into her knees, she didn’t need to hear her Simon’s shriek of pain, or the thudding of his body.


She closed her eyes and dropped the ax, falling to the ground and crying into her knees. She didn't need to hear Simon's shriek of pain, or the thudding of his body.

she knew the scene, quite well to memory.


Delete comma.

The portrait…the picture…the dream,


Replace the triple dots with commas, then replace the last comma with a semi or period.

Then, the sudden sound of a phone vibrating...


Make this its own sentence. The sound of a cell phone vibrating caused her to stop crying.

[s]and[/s] she ignored it, her weeping figure giggling
.

Make this its own sentence.

She looked up at the sky, the sun now started to rise…he was her seventh. Her time ticked on.


Replace triple dots with a period. Nice ending sentences, though. :wink:

Overall, it was a good story. I didn't quite get the picture of the couple until later on in the story so a little of that wouldn't hurt.

Main problems, however, are run-on sentences and misuse of punctuation. It's okay to have shorter sentences. If the sentence just keeps on going, the reader will get exhausted from reading and just stop. Personally, I think shorter sentences create more suspense. Also, the comma usage needs work, as well as your tags. Example tag:

"Do your homework, Sara," my mom said when she saw me watching television.

"I can't believe you said that!" my girlfriend shouted, throwing her hands up in the air.

Mrs. Clark turned around to face the class, saying gravely, "I'm afraid your tests were not very good."

Those are your main problems, I think. However, grammar is very difficult for a lot of people, even me. We're all improving on our writing. Grammar is an essential part.

If you have questions or comments on any of my suggestions above, PM me. ^_^

Keep writing!

Jabber, the One and Only!




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Thu Dec 20, 2007 12:31 am
Leja wrote a review...



The first three paragraphs had too much information and I found myself skimming/skipping them. Elements of them could be added to later description: the fact that Miranda is six times a widow could be included later where she imagines herself growing old in the house with Simon, maybe something about that not being possible with the previous six? The fact that it would be integrated, only a passing, teasing mention makes it creepier than if it's put out there with the rest of the exposition. Similar with the fact that Miranda has a history of bad relationships. I think this would be more effective if dropped as a hint some other point in the story.

On the other side of the coin, the "The ranch was immense" paragraph seems like it was meant to have a creepy feeling to it, but it's glazed over, so that it just seems like another detail.

Why was Simon just carrying a knife around in his pocket? Could there maybe be some indication of this beforehand? Maybe when he's holding the door open for her in the car he could be holding something in his pocket? Like a person jingling change, or something. Something like that would make the knife seem less like it came out of nowhere. Similar with the ax. Mention it beforehand, or it seems like she's saying "that ax was randomly there, but good thing I didn't fall on it!" and takes away from the atmosphere.

You did a good job of building up the suspense between the time she got out of the car and the time the painting was unveiled. Nice pacing.

By the end, I didn't really know why she was doing these things; killing her husbands and all. I mean, of course, she's completely mad, but even in a madman's mind, there might be some form of justification, however nonsensical to the rest of us. I think that's the major thing missing here. Edit: well, I read up a post or two, and I didn't get the sense that she thought people would either leave her or kill her; it just seemed random. But maybe I missed something.

PM me if you have any questions!
-Amelia




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Tue Dec 18, 2007 5:51 pm
Audy says...



The "portrait" house was more a figment of her imagination as none of those portraits described were real. Miranda is insane--she thinks everybody is going to leave her or else kill her, based on her past experiences. I fixed the ending a little bit to make more sense. You really can't trust her narration.

Sorry if I left you confused xD I realized that it wasn't very clear.




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Tue Dec 18, 2007 1:29 pm
chayonz says...



Omg. I dunno whether to feel revolted or pity. Do u mean all these paintings were hes? im go confused. It was a set up to kill him??





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