Young Writers Society

Listen carefully. Listen to the night and the wind. The wind transforms into whispering voices.

“Why? Why? Why?”

The haunting hour is close at hand. So listen carefully if you will, and hear the tale of Isabelle. Isabelle who listened to the night, to the wind and the voices. She saw the fear and the pain and the horror. She knows that death is not what it seems. Isabelle, who sits in the corner, mumbling about ghosts and goblins and creatures. Who knows of the haunting hour, but is afraid to speak. To tell the secrets of the long gone.

But listen to her tale, and you will know to listen carefully to the wind and the night.
………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….
Isabelle sat up in her bed, her blankets thrown on the floor. Her dreams of creatures horrible and vile had caused her to toss them there. She sat now, at one in the morning, with her knees pulled up to her chest and her arms wrapped around them. Her worried eyes darted back and forth, her mind racing with thoughts of made-up monsters.

The wind was howling its sad song outside her window. The branches of the tree she often climbed scraped against her window sending shivers down her spine. The moons shallow light cast shadows across her floor, warped and elongated into unrecognizable shapes. Shivering in her flimsy tank top and flannel pants, she stood and grabbed her robe hanging on the door of her closet. She wrapped herself in its fuzzy warmth and walked over to the window where her tree was scratching.

Isabelle closed her eyes and pressed her palms against the cool glass. She breathed deeply and took in the song of the wind. It seemed to chant, but she couldn’t make out the words, just a mumbled mess of warning. She opened her eyes. She saw ghostly figures in a row, marching down the street like an apparition. She stared at the phenomenon, not quite surprised. Somehow she knew that this is what went on while everyone slept.

The haunting hour, she thought. She opened the window, drawn to the strange figures. As they walked down the street, the streetlamps blinked off at their presence, then blinked back on when they were gone. It was for this reason that Isabelle couldn’t see what they were.

Isabelle shimmied down her tree and landed on the ground with a small thump. She glanced back at her house, thinking of her family. Worry of them waking up and seeing her disappearance flashed through her eyes, but curiosity overpowered it and she turned back to the figures. As she got closer, their size became apparent.
The figures towered a little over seven feet tall, some even reached eight. They varied in shape, some were skinny and lanky and others were fat and wobbled awkwardly forward. There was one that seemed larger than the others. It led the strange parade, gliding forward more than walking. She still stood ten yards away, and she wanted to be among them, marching too. Her sense of what was safe and not seemed to be asleep still.

She walked forward in a trance, her shadow stretched out by the streetlamp. She began to see their features; they were a variety of colors. Each a vibrant shade, emanating darkness. They had faces, but they were always changing. They took the shape of people, some Isabelle even recognized. They were her friends, family, and teachers. They were twisted in expressions of anger, envy, fear, greed.

As Isabelle got even closer, she could feel them. She sensed them; acknowledged their presence. Suddenly her fear kicked in, just as she reached an orange shape. She looked in its face. It mirrored hers, fearful. She turned towards her house, but a tall red shape loomed over her. She had a sudden surge of anger that the shape wouldn’t let her go home, back to her warm house and bed. Its face was hers too, twisted in anger and madness, it was ugly and rude.

The shape pushed her and she landed in the arms of a short, fat, green creature. She looked up at it. Her face was longingly staring back at her, sprinkled with anger. She took a long look at the shape. She felt greedy, wanting with all of her heart to know what he knew. It wasn’t fair that they could hold all these secrets. She stomped away from the green monster and encountered a blue creature. The face of Isabelle on it was crying. She felt horrible. Sadness swept over her. Hot tears streamed down her own cheeks, and the blue monster reached out and wiped away her tears before guiding her towards a yellow creature.

Pain exploded over her. She crumbled to the floor, clutching her head. The yellow creature grabbed her arm, its hands like knives, stabbing into her flesh. It pulled her onto her feet and pushed her forward gently towards the leader. The leader was black, but it wasn’t solid. Hints of colors swirled inside of him like fog. His face was empty, she didn’t see herself, but empty eyes and a closed mouth stared back at her. The mouth was stitched closed by thick leathery strings in a rainbow of colors.

Isabelle felt nothing. Her pain, fear, worry, sadness, anger, greed, all of it faded away. The creature bent down and put his hands on Isabelle’s shoulders. He spoke, but his voice didn’t come from his mouth. It exploded in her mind, yet came from all around her. It was silky and smooth; it calmed her and made her sleepy.

“Isabelle, this is what happens when you die filled with hatred. We parade the streets looking for evil soles to take. There is a Heaven, but we are Hell. You heard our moans in the wind, you saw our anguish. You do not want to end up like us, Isabelle. So be afraid, be very afraid. Let our haunting be a warning. I hope I never see you again.” He bent down and hugged her. She closed her eyes and let the darkness overpower her. She fell asleep and when she opened her eyes, she was back in her bed. She knew now of deaths secrets and she was afraid. It drove her to craziness.

So next time you hear the wind, listen. Let Isabelle’s story help you get to Heaven and avoid the grasp of Hell.

I really enjoyed this story. If I may make a slight suggestion, have the black shadowy figure (death as I think you said it was) explain why all the other figures where displaying Isabelles's face upon them with her different types of emotion

Ohhh I never thought of that! Thank you!

Hello, it's me... by request

Other than in your spoiler, I caught no spelling errors and only one grammar error.

They varied in shape, some were skinny and lanky and others were fat and wobbled awkwardly forward.

This would be classified as a "run-on" sentence, so fix accordingly.

You start out a lot of sentences with either "she" or "the," and that can get very boring. Make sure the first word or couple words of each sentence vary, and definitely try to avoid "she" and "the." I'm not saying you can't use them at all as sentence starters, just keep them to a minimum.

Also, you need to keep in mind the length of your sentences (in terms of syllables). Right now, they're all about the same length, and they need to vary a lot. Not like 3 syllables, 26 syllables, 2 syllables, 24 syllables, 4 syllables, 24 syllables, etc. More like 6 syllables, 40 syllables, 20 syllabels, 2 syllables, 12 syllables, 18 syllables, 16 syllables, 32 syllables, etc. You don't have to have some kind of method or be super neurotic about it, but make sure you read your sentences aloud to see how they flow.

I think it's cool how you use colors that are usually associated with each emotion, but you use the word "anger" for both the angry shape and the envious shape, so make sure you use different words.

Personally, I think the reference to Heaven and Hell, and how that's supposed to be the theme of the story, could be offensive to anybody who doesn't have that belief. Saying "There is a Heaven" and those figures come from Hell is going to tick someone off if they believe in, say, reincarnation and the state of Nirvana. They're definitely not the same thing. Maybe try making the moral of the story a bit broader. Something like "There is Good in the world, but our souls are haunted with Evil." True, everyone's supposed to have both good and evil in them, but it's a start.

Overall, it's a very cool concept and some of the descriptions were really eerie and chilling when I visualized them. That's what you were going for, I'm assuming. My last suggestion is to take an entire paragraph describing each figure, and you'll probably send chills down your readers' spines.

That is all. Keep writing, good luck, and PM me if you have questions!

Great story! I felt the creepy texture throughout the whole piece, and that's always fun.
I know it's a simple story, but you could make it even longer by giving Isabelle a bit of a backstory. Possibly give her more "motivation" to climb out the window by making this a recurring event. Maybe she hears voices in the wind every night, but ignores them, and this particular night, she is determined to find out what they are.
Also, I see it has already been addressed, but trying to change up the way you start your sentences would add to your story.
At the end, when you say it "drove her to madness", this is a perfect opportunity to describe some really terrible symptoms that will shock and scare your readers, which is always a fun way to end a story There are endless possibilities when it comes to describing insanity, so choose some crazy behaviors that you feel are best for the story. You can make them as graphic or as bizarre as you want, so have fun with it, but don't overdo it. If you want some suggestions, PM me.
Great work! Keep it up.
-DR

I would like to say that "sole" is spelt "soul", the way you spelt it would be used like this:

"The sole of my shoe ripped as I..."

It should be like this:

"My soul trembled at the..."

for example.

On the other hand, the story was very interesting for me, and I like how you described the shapes. I could feel Isabelle's feelings, which means it's good! Since you are good at third-person, why not try a story in first-person? Maybe you could do "The Haunting Hour" from Isabelle's point of view. It certainly would change the story!

Also, it kept me interested, and that's an excellent thing to be good at, especialy with longer stories. Not saying that it was long! Me being a spiritual person, "The Haunting Hour" was quite interesting to read. Good job!

Thanks! For whatever reason when I typed this up my computer kept saying soul was wrong so I assumed it was sole haha

Hey! Teardrop here on request! I'm gonna try and give you a useful review here but I didn't catch anything really big sooo here it goes!

Try and avoid those run-on sentences, i'm not suggesting you make them really small, just make them still ellaborate but once your idea is finished make another sentence. Also, try not to use so many pronouns. ( he, she, etc. ) This gets very boring and can sometimes make it hard to figure out who is who. So, try and use a really wide vocabulary instead of repetition and using a lot of pronouns. Bring something new with every sentence, keep it interesting.

About punctuation, I really think that you could add some more, when the reader is expected to pause. ( For instance, my friend was talking yesterday and she showed my teacher this: "Let's eat, dad!" As oppose to, "Let's eat dad!" Punctuation saves lives. ) So, yeah, try and go threw and maybe find some places.

GrenadeCatcher wrote:She sat now, at one in the morning, with her knees pulled up to her chest and her arms wrapped around them.

Back to the run-ons, that's what I'd call a run-on quoted right there. : )

I really like the concept of this story, and really like your style of writing. I enjoyed the narrorator ( I doubt I spelled that right either! ) and how it was at the beginning of the end. The story was almost told in a dark, way and I realy like that. Overall, I enjoyed this a lot. I now add this to my list of favorite works on YWS. : )

Keep writing, hope I could help!

~ Teardrop