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Night

by Luke14


Night

She awoke from her dream, which was not a nightmare, just an uncomfortable vision of the human consciousness that she found to be frightening. So, it could be called a nightmare. She got up and lit the beside candle, it’s scent refreshing. She pushed her hair out of her eyes, for it blocked her eyesight completely, if a few inches shorter, she may have been able to see. She got up, and tied her robe, warming her, as she tightened it. She walked to the bedroom floor, pushing through the darkness of night, which bled in through the windows. As she opened the door, she felt a slight breeze blow across her face, shrinking her pupils. As she left, she briefly placed her hand upon the top of the doorframe, perhaps for luck, or simply reassurance that she would return safely.

She entered the hallway, as cautiously as ever. Gripping the candle tightly, for without it, she would be as good as blind, and with the dark shade of her robe, and the blackness of her hair, she would not be found, she could blend in so well, until morning. Moving swiftly from side to side, out of fear of stumbling upon open furniture. She could not make out very much due to the dim lighting of the burning candle. It was the only sun in her galaxy.

She then trips, over a nightstand, covering the floor with herself, and releasing the candle, accidentally, spilling the singing wax onto her hand, and over the wick, extinguishing the flame. As wax does, it react to the air without aid of the fire. Immediately hardening, becoming solid, opun her hand, and upon the floor. But the wax is unlike cement, it cannot enslave by it’s mere touch. When it is in its solid form, it is easily destructible. Which is why this was no concern to her.

She reassembled herself, dusted her robe off, and finally arose. No signs of injury or impalement.

She then scanned her surroundings, realizing she could no longer see. She couldn’t relight the wick, every candle was forgotten in the bedroom. The only thing that could illuminate the scene was the green of her eye.

The more she looked around, the more she could see. He eyes adapted to the darkness, she was able to see through it. Not clearly, but she could make out all of the basic shapes. Even though she could not see details, she could tell where she needed to go. She placed her hands upon the drywall, caressing the rough surface. Taking only a few short steps forward, she discovered what she thought was a fault in the wall, but it was actually a door. She opon impulse searched it. Feeling all around it’s exterior. Eventually her hand came across a cold, solid, doorknob,

She opened it, in desperation. Solemnly hoping for some sort of salvation from her paranoia.

During entry, her skin is flooded with that same breeze from before, except this was linguring, and lasting taste of it’s bitterness. The room appeared vacant, but did not give off the impression of such. This room was unlike the rest of the house, every other room had darkness enter it. This room was darkness. The darkness of it did not originate from anywhere, but here. This is where darkness comes from. This were some of the many thoughts she was having, but no quite as dramaticized.

She entered, at the slowest of paces. Her throat gasping for air, straining itself for more. Her hands now soaken, with the sweat of her fear. She then heard a noise, resembling a voice, but it was obscured, sounded almost as if they were far away, but the voice was loud, it must have come from this room, she thought. She froze, so confused and defensive of this newborn unknown, she was very close to tumbling over. He entire body was now shaking as if were rattled by a train. Her heart was providing the body with, more than enough. Pumping so fast that it’s beat echoed through the room. She searched the wall next to the door for a switch, the presence of it relieved her. She pulled the switch, and the light came on. Dimmed and damaged, the bulb just barely covered the room with it’s light. But she could now make out the contents of it. Thickly dusted and desolate it appeared, boxes filled the vacant place, but nothing more. Emptied out, there was nothing to fear. Every theory of what could of been no longer possessed her mind, for the theories were not educated, only built up from the tension in her mind. She then breathed out, at long last. Relieved that her life was saved, she then peered into the hallway, eyeing the candle she dropped, she retrieved it, at relit it with matches from the room, which were conveniently left there. She then turned off the light, and walked back towards her bedroom. This time not quite as shakey, as before. She walked far more confident, and fierce. She entered her room, took off her robe, and laid back down into her bed. She looked up towards the pale ceiling, and closed her eyes. From the outside, a scream could be heard, that echoed the surrounding land. 


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19 Reviews


Points: 95
Reviews: 19

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Fri Dec 21, 2018 4:38 am
lemonayyde wrote a review...



This is a beautiful piece! Your use of imagery is absolutely captivating and really works well to establish the mood of the story. I do have a few notes, but they're just suggestions to help the flow of your story. Completely optional.

You used about 78 commas throughout this entire story, and while the writing itself is absolutely fantastic, it does make it come across a bit clunky. The wording of some sentences also contributes to this. For example;

"During entry, her skin is flooded with that same breeze from before, except this was linguring, and lasting taste of it’s bitterness. The room appeared vacant, but did not give off the impression of such. This room was unlike the rest of the house, every other room had darkness enter it. This room was darkness. The darkness of it did not originate from anywhere, but here. This is where darkness comes from. "

and

"As she enters the room her skin is flooded with the same breeze from before, albeit slightly different. This breeze is lingering, leaving a lasting taste of the bitterness it held. The room appeared to be vacant, but it did not give off the impression of such. This room was unlike any other in the house. Every other room has darkness enter it. This room was darkness. The darkness of it did not originate from elsewhere. No, this darkness was only from here. This is where darkness comes from."

While using commas to continue a sentence and provide as much information as possible is tempting, it often times is beneficial to stop and think about if the next thing you want to write would work better in a separate sentence. It's the best way to avoid run-on sentences and can really help the writing flow for the reader!

Other than that, this story is incredible! Thank you so much for sharing it with us :)




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8 Reviews


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Reviews: 8

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Thu Dec 20, 2018 9:25 pm
MaybeInk wrote a review...



Hey there, Luke14, how's it going? MaybeInk here for a review.

You're relatively new here, so welcome, I hope you like it here as much as the rest of us do.

I'm always really scared of things that go bump in the night, so if I was home and not at school, I'd be crawling under my blankets now because like the vine says "i'M iN BeD, yOU CaN'T KIlL ME!" so by that logic, I'm would be safe. Wish me luck.

Aight, judging by the use of a candle at her bedside, I'm going to assume she does not live in our day.

Your use of imagery in this story is incredible, it had me immersed from the very first line. I especially like the paragraph focusing on the wax, it was a nice, softer touch to the otherwise spooky and sober tone.

"She placed her hands upon the drywall, caressing the rough surface. Taking only a few short steps forward, she discovered what she thought was a fault in the wall, but it was actually a door. She opon impulse searched it. Feeling all around it’s exterior. Eventually her hand came across a cold, solid, doorknob,"

I want to assume from the tone in the above excerpt that this house is new to her in some way.

Found some grammar mistakes, "opon" should be "upon", "He" should be "her", "at" should be "and"and the sentences should be varied a little more, some seem to be a little choppy.

That scream was jarring, what was it, who was it? Were they outside? I need. Answers. Please.

Sorry, I'm a dramatic little turd, but outstanding job, Luke, hope you do more work like it.

Well, that's all for me, MaybeInk signing out!
~ MaybeInk





In three words I can sum up everything I've learned about life: it goes on.
— Robert Frost