Thursday, January 16, 2014

Writers craft

I heard him talking at the seat next to me. We were on a bus going down the metropolis highway. Traffic was slow and I was tired. The boy was about 7 years old. Red hair, freckles, and very short. He was whispering. At first it sounded like nonsense. There was no one around to listen to him. He wasn't in a conversation. But yet he was saying something. I listened in closely.
"Red car, school bus, helicopters, lion, bridge, death." Over and over he said those words.
 I thought nothing of it, he probably was one of those special needs kids. I looked out the window. It had began to rain. The honking of horns and the sounds of engines filled my ears. Then something caught my eye. I looked at the next lane and saw a bright red civic. This was weird.
"It probably means nothing." I thought.
At that same moment the child spoke those words. I looked at him confused and awkwardly.
"How did he do that?" I thought and again he said it.
 I was starting to get creeped out. The eerie sound of laughter crept into my ears. I looked back out and saw a school bus pass by. My eyes widend.
"This isn't real." I thought.
Once again he spoke my thoughts. Then I heard a helicopter overhead.
"What the hell?" I thought and once again the child spoke it.
I looked at him. He gave me a curious look.
"Lion, bridge, death." He chanted.
"What is wrong with you?" We said in unison.
He pointed behind me. I looked and saw a statue.
"Oh my god." I said in disbelief.
I barely hear him say it this time. I looked again we were going over a bridge.
"Death." He said.
"Oh my god he got it all right we are going to die." I thought.
And yet again he spoke my thoughts. Fear was over taking me. I could barely grasp my situation. My heart pounded, sweat dripped down my face, this was too much I had to get out.
"LET ME OUT!" I yell.
The bus screeches to a stop and the doors open. I start running down the isle and all I hear is "death." Being changed over and over getting faster and faster as I approach the door. I run outside and the bus starts moving. I look as they go into the distance. Nothing happens. Maybe he was wrong? The bus was still there and nothing happened. I stood there realizing how stupid I was listening to a child. Then I had a thought creep up to me. What if it was my death? I look behind me and see the word MAC right in my face. Then it all goes black.

3 comments:

  1. didn't really read it... But its good. Nice work brah.

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  2. This writers craft was very suspenseful. I wish It was longer! Your writing has gotten so much better than before. Keep up your amazing work John!

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  3. Hey John, Nice creepy story. Reading it was like unwrapping a present layer by layer, not really sure you want to see what's at the center. Then a sigh of relief -- then surprise! In the beginning and at the end you use the thought-voice of the storyteller to echo the reassuring voice of normal reality: "I thought nothing of it, he was probably one of those special needs kids" and "I stood there realizing how stupid I was listening to a child". Then something abnormal happens. That's a great way of making the reader feel off balance. You almost don't have to say "This was weird", since I as the reader already feel that. This is the kind of story that the less you say, the more it has its own heartbeat. Maybe even try paring it down a little more and submit it somewhere! Keep writing!

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