Wednesday, February 18, 2009

The fear in the darkness

Fear of the darkness was my worst enemy as a small child. It controlled my nightly life. I refused to enter basements, walk down dark hallways, or even sleep without the window open(thank God I lived on the Southern Plains).

One night my friends and I were playing in the abandoned school grounds next to our houses. We heard this noise shuffle across the ground just around the corner. It were as if evil was creeping towards us. The hair on the back of our necks stood as straight as the flickering lamp post across the ghoulish alley. We slowly backed towards the metal fence which separated us from safety. There was a thunderous clash of metal as our shoulders smashed into the chain linked fence. My hand eased above my head and grabbed hold of the metal support. With a great heave I lifted my feet off the ground and spun to face the alley. My feet swung over the fence and as soon as they hit the ground they were moving like they had never moved before. I ran for blocks, past my own house, the whole time the shadows were never far. They were always only steps behind, just out of reach. We kept on running until they gave up the chase. Finally I stopped. I was standing in front of an old house illuminated by only a single flickering orange florescent light. I realized I had traded one darkness for another and the chase began all over again.

As the boys on the island start to think about their fears they(the elder children) come to the realization that the Beastie is nothing but fear itself. Fear of the darkness, and the creepy crawlies that lurk within. The boys fears are not unlike mine were. The only difference between the two stories is that I dealt with my fears.

Friday, January 30, 2009

On Technology

STOP!!! STOP NOW!!! This has gone to far. There unnessesary proliferation of technology as it concerns Mr. Ayer's English 11 class. The wikispace that we used was nice and engaging, but Blogger, Shelfari, and any other new technologies you are thinking about are just to much.

Saturday, January 3, 2009

Smile Made of Daggers

I nimbly balanced myself on the cement street corner watching for the bus to come around the corner. My book bag hung from my my shoulders, it seemed weightless. Granted it only held one book which I hadn't read the previous night. I fussed with the straps a little, giving them a short jerk to shorten them up. Just as I did so the yellow cigar tube of a bus came lumbering around the corner. I looked around to see if I had dropped anything. The bus pulled up directly in front of me and the doors whipped open. Without hesitation I made the short the leap from curb to bus.

Before I knew it I was standing in the aisle. My hips swung from side to side as I tried to keep my balance, all the while searching for a open seat. I scanned over the multitude of children, all of them sitting with their best friends. But, could see no gap in the herd. Just row upon row children crammed into their seats like sardines.

I took a few steps forward and strained my vision to see if there was any openings in the back of the bus. There it was, an opening, my saving grace, or that's what it felt like until I saw him, the boy who for two years had been the bane of my existence. He lorded over the only empty seat and just grinned at me. The daggers in his smile jutted into my skin. My heart plummeted and I began to shake with anxiety. I knew I had no other option, no place to run away. My feet felt like lead as I shuffled them towards the back of the bus, and the imminent beating.

How would he do it? Would he be merciful and only hit me a couple of times and be done with it? No, not a chance, the look in his eyes and that malicious grin of his told me he would do as he always did, beat me silly all the way to school.

Suddenly my feet stopped moving, they were like anchors. I looked up from my feet and stared at him. My eyes pleaded with him not to start the day with a pointless beating. But, it was to no avail. He just kept on staring right back at me, biting into my soul. Summoning all of my will I slid into the seat. My breath sped up to an almost uncontrollable pace. Looking over at him I braced myself and counted the eternity until the torture would be over.