The Desperado
05-15-2002, 09:22 PM
this is a story i wrote for english class. Im really proud of it. Im looking for feedback so if you see anything that could use some fixing, let me know. Thanks
the Vampire
by. Jordan McLaughlin
I was wide-awake of course. Most kids are awake with excitement on this night. But I was awake from something else.
My room was mostly dark with the exception of the hall light that crept through the cracks in my door. The moon reflected just enough light off the freshly fallen snow to luminate my blue walls. The sounds of chatter from my parents downstairs were muffled, but decipherable. They were discussing the gifts that they were placing under the Christmas tree. I already knew there wasn’t a Santa Clause, so I wasn’t distressed. A side effect of having to grow up too soon. My little brother slept in his bed across the room. He was breathing deep. He had gone to bed early, fatigued with excitement. The bitter winter wind rattled the window. And the bare, skeleton-like limb of a tree left a monstrous shadow on my walls.
Wait! They’re coming up the steps. I pulled my blanket closer to my face. I was sitting up in fearful anticipation. I heard both of them saunter by. My mother, and the man I should call father, but instead refer to as Rob. I could see the shadows of their legs from the crack between my door and the floor. Two sets of feet walked by, toward their room. I sat there, waiting. Waiting for the footsteps to return. Return to my door.
Some time had passed. The hallway light had been turned off. I just sat there, waiting. My brother was no longer asleep. His deep breathing had ceased, so I assumed that he lay there much like I did, waiting. Every night was like this. Sitting in dread. He didn’t always come, but there was no pattern to his drinking, so we never really knew if he was coming or not.
The hall light turned on. I trembled in fear. My brother sat up in his bed. His eyes, glistening with pre-mature tears, looked to me for some sort of comfort. I had none to offer.
The black shadow of two menacing legs appeared from the gap under my door. They stood there. I could hear his breathing. Deep and devilishly calm. The golden doorknob started to rattle. My brother dove underneath his winter covers, hoping that somehow he wouldn’t notice his presence. The hallway light was brighter now. More light squeezed its way in as the door swung open. The rank scent of beer drifted in behind the light. The dark outline of his shady, distinct figure stood in the doorway. The shape of a beer can and of a long leather belt were noticeable in his hands. I continued to sit there, watching him. I tired to give him a menacing glance, but my fear was too strong to break. My brother started to weep. I could hear him trying to hold back his tears, but he was unsuccessful. The supple whining from under my brother’s sheets caught Rob’s attention. He slowly started to walk toward by brother bed. His feet creaked on the hardwood floor. The monstrous shadow of the tree branch seemed to move with him. Like a pair of silent vampires, stalking their prey. He loomed over my brother’s bed, his hands outstretched like claws. He leaned, closer and closer, toward my brother. One hand reached back, belt in tow. I couldn’t watch anymore. I shut my eyes and hid beneath my bedspread. No matter how hard I tried, my eyes could never seem to block out the visions of my brother’s torment. I pushed them shut with all my might, but it never seemed sufficient. The short squeaking of my brothers bed springs alerted my attentive ears to the beginning of the assault.
I lay there, clenching in expectation of the bone chilling screams my brother would soon emit. The screams. The screams. Just listening to them was cold and excruciating in itself. But they never came. The noise of the small scuffle heard just moments ago, had subdued. With reserved courage, I slowly dared myself to open my eyes. Peeking over the edge of my blanket, I saw his ominous figure. Looming still over my brother. I watched him for several minutes. Standing there, watching my brother slumber. I prayed he would just disappear, but he did not. He just stood there in a blank, empty stare with little movement or sound. I wondered if the alcohol had affected his perception. Perhaps he didn’t even know where he was. But I dared not to find out. So I just waited.
Finally, after what seemed like hours, the vampiric form of my stepfather drunkenly staggered away. Beer can in hand; he stumbled out the door, closing it behind him. I sat up, scanning the room for evidence of my brother’s condition. I saw the lump of his body, still hidden beneath the fabric of his covers. I whispered his name over to him, trying to start some sort of communication. He didn’t respond to my pleas. Quietly, I shuffled out of my bed and began to slowly creep across the cold, wooden floor. I tried to be as quiet as possible, since Robs local in the house was still unknown. I managed to make my way to my brother’s bed without alarming anyone outside of the room. I pulled back the blanket, expected to see a tearful, terrified face. Instead, the tearful, terrified face was that of my own. Upon inspection of my brother, I realized the horrifying truth behind tonight’s events. The small scuffle, the long belt. Everything fit into place. I fell to my knees before my brothers bed, crying. My brother just lay there, motionless, breathless, with a belt wrung around his neck.
the Vampire
by. Jordan McLaughlin
I was wide-awake of course. Most kids are awake with excitement on this night. But I was awake from something else.
My room was mostly dark with the exception of the hall light that crept through the cracks in my door. The moon reflected just enough light off the freshly fallen snow to luminate my blue walls. The sounds of chatter from my parents downstairs were muffled, but decipherable. They were discussing the gifts that they were placing under the Christmas tree. I already knew there wasn’t a Santa Clause, so I wasn’t distressed. A side effect of having to grow up too soon. My little brother slept in his bed across the room. He was breathing deep. He had gone to bed early, fatigued with excitement. The bitter winter wind rattled the window. And the bare, skeleton-like limb of a tree left a monstrous shadow on my walls.
Wait! They’re coming up the steps. I pulled my blanket closer to my face. I was sitting up in fearful anticipation. I heard both of them saunter by. My mother, and the man I should call father, but instead refer to as Rob. I could see the shadows of their legs from the crack between my door and the floor. Two sets of feet walked by, toward their room. I sat there, waiting. Waiting for the footsteps to return. Return to my door.
Some time had passed. The hallway light had been turned off. I just sat there, waiting. My brother was no longer asleep. His deep breathing had ceased, so I assumed that he lay there much like I did, waiting. Every night was like this. Sitting in dread. He didn’t always come, but there was no pattern to his drinking, so we never really knew if he was coming or not.
The hall light turned on. I trembled in fear. My brother sat up in his bed. His eyes, glistening with pre-mature tears, looked to me for some sort of comfort. I had none to offer.
The black shadow of two menacing legs appeared from the gap under my door. They stood there. I could hear his breathing. Deep and devilishly calm. The golden doorknob started to rattle. My brother dove underneath his winter covers, hoping that somehow he wouldn’t notice his presence. The hallway light was brighter now. More light squeezed its way in as the door swung open. The rank scent of beer drifted in behind the light. The dark outline of his shady, distinct figure stood in the doorway. The shape of a beer can and of a long leather belt were noticeable in his hands. I continued to sit there, watching him. I tired to give him a menacing glance, but my fear was too strong to break. My brother started to weep. I could hear him trying to hold back his tears, but he was unsuccessful. The supple whining from under my brother’s sheets caught Rob’s attention. He slowly started to walk toward by brother bed. His feet creaked on the hardwood floor. The monstrous shadow of the tree branch seemed to move with him. Like a pair of silent vampires, stalking their prey. He loomed over my brother’s bed, his hands outstretched like claws. He leaned, closer and closer, toward my brother. One hand reached back, belt in tow. I couldn’t watch anymore. I shut my eyes and hid beneath my bedspread. No matter how hard I tried, my eyes could never seem to block out the visions of my brother’s torment. I pushed them shut with all my might, but it never seemed sufficient. The short squeaking of my brothers bed springs alerted my attentive ears to the beginning of the assault.
I lay there, clenching in expectation of the bone chilling screams my brother would soon emit. The screams. The screams. Just listening to them was cold and excruciating in itself. But they never came. The noise of the small scuffle heard just moments ago, had subdued. With reserved courage, I slowly dared myself to open my eyes. Peeking over the edge of my blanket, I saw his ominous figure. Looming still over my brother. I watched him for several minutes. Standing there, watching my brother slumber. I prayed he would just disappear, but he did not. He just stood there in a blank, empty stare with little movement or sound. I wondered if the alcohol had affected his perception. Perhaps he didn’t even know where he was. But I dared not to find out. So I just waited.
Finally, after what seemed like hours, the vampiric form of my stepfather drunkenly staggered away. Beer can in hand; he stumbled out the door, closing it behind him. I sat up, scanning the room for evidence of my brother’s condition. I saw the lump of his body, still hidden beneath the fabric of his covers. I whispered his name over to him, trying to start some sort of communication. He didn’t respond to my pleas. Quietly, I shuffled out of my bed and began to slowly creep across the cold, wooden floor. I tried to be as quiet as possible, since Robs local in the house was still unknown. I managed to make my way to my brother’s bed without alarming anyone outside of the room. I pulled back the blanket, expected to see a tearful, terrified face. Instead, the tearful, terrified face was that of my own. Upon inspection of my brother, I realized the horrifying truth behind tonight’s events. The small scuffle, the long belt. Everything fit into place. I fell to my knees before my brothers bed, crying. My brother just lay there, motionless, breathless, with a belt wrung around his neck.