Mkayy so this is a project I have to do for English: write a story that could've been written by Poe, remember his characters, actions, and themes. It's kinda hard especially ince I'm a girl writing in a man's POV.... haha. And just to let you all know, I am very big on living (yeahh just read the story). And also, I'm NOT relating the creature to God by capitalizing "she, her", etc, it's like her name. I've written this within a 2 day time period and it's due in a day soo pleeeeease review and give me pointers.


Dying, my friends, to some people is easy; a bit painful but quick. As for others, death can be harsh as waves in a storm, beating the defenseless dingy down to splinters. The shards and remains of that boat will bob on the water, possibly drift to sea. Death can relate to that just as much.

In my death, although I have had none as of yet, She was there. Watching me sleep and then haunting me through the day. Her glowing violet eyes, Her pale (yet still) olive skin, the prolonged hair the color of pitch. My mind remembered, my soul drank in. She never left.

You may think, however, that I am mad, saying to you I have died when really I have not. Death to me is the same as living in Heaven or in Hell. And I was living in Hell. To be honest with my own self, I would love to die. Throughout nearly all my life, dying has been horrific, terrible. I become rather irascible on the note of death.

Except for now. Because of Her, a malicious and lying being, I wanted to die. I wanted to die so badly and I never did. Not even barely.

The entirety of my family has died of the same thing and I am alone. Not one physician knew how the deed had come across and killed them off; some said the disease was of an unknown malady. At first it was frightening, but now I would like anything, anything at all, to be the cause of my death.

Just not this.

Everything started with a dream. An invisible and cellophane creature was manacling my wrists behind my back and my ankles together. I could see nothing of this creature except their soul. There was a black luminescent sphere floating where their bosom should have been.

I awoke screaming, with a rope tying my hands together and ankles.

Until then I have been diagnosed with this utterly wretched sickness. Every night I pray to God for the disease to take me, but still every night the same thing happens- over and over and over again. Over again and over for days, weeks, months until, when I woke up yelling hoarsely at the top of my lungs and bound, I finally say stop.

That very night I said to cease, it did. I believe I fell back asleep for, oh, an hour and never had the dream again. The nightmare of shackles did desist but as I slept I saw nothing but that of flowing darkness.

When I awoke this time, my chamber was just as black as my dream; the drapes were tightly hugging my windows and the candle smoke had evaporated.

I lie in bed, a bit giddy from not dreaming the nightmare, but also from a strange feeling I had in the pit of my stomach.

The spirit of paranoia was knocking on my head, begging to get inside my brain and nearly do away with me.

My breathing accelerated, the force of gravity felt no more for I actually looked down to be sure I was not rising above my bed. Though I know I couldn't be because, if I was, the sight I had just seen would have dropped me like a steaming spud.

It was my first glimpse of Her.

I cannot begin to describe the overwhelming reflex I had: She was remarkably outlandish and otherworldly and still positively horrifying. The blasphemy was She had to have been the one starring in my nightmares the past few months and She was stunningly beautiful. Her pale, yet still rather translucent, skin was that of an Italian goddess and Her shining eyes represented that of violet buds. The rangy mane of hair flowed over Her pointed chin and high cheekbones. It was strenuous of mine eyes to see what covered Her olive- skinned form but it seemed to be nothing but Her hair.

You may say I am to be imagining things but I am not. She sat across the chamber from me, Her back hunched, pressed to the wall and, though arduous, I can still see the exact shadow when She leaves at the break of dawn.

The day of which morning She left, I felt a strangeness raising in my breast. It seemed to swallow up my throat and made my head thinker than spring fog. The only time I recall hearing of these odd symptoms was when an acquaintance of mine fell madly in love.

No. It is preposterous! This cannot be... I could never be in love with this beautiful and magnificent monster. Impossible!- but, maybe, possible.

On the verge of hysteria, I vowed to never think that I could love that beast again.

I would kill Her. Yes, yes that is what I shall do. I thought of cutting Her to pieces and burning the remains; of sending the body in a post to anywhere but here; of digging a grave when, Oh! I could dispose of Her in the well. Ha ha! And I shall rid myself of her forever!

That night, the night that would soon be that of Her death, I lay, deep and warm, beneath my bed sheath and waited eagerly for Her to come. I waited longer than I thought I ever have. For a moment, I tried my hand at sleeping, but I was high with excitment from my cunning wit.

I waited. I waited and waited and waited. When I finally shut my eyelids and reopened them a bit later, I anxiously looked to the wall She always crouched by. Not sight of Her. I decided to wait until tomorrow.

Tis a shame, though I. I yawned loudly and started to settle when I felt pressure on the mid- section of my body. Glancing up, I saw those devilish violet eyes. They bore into mine, not allowing me to look away.

In a short moment I was on my feet, my ruffled shift and cap annoying me to no end as they felt wet. Putting my mind beyond that, I took the head of the creature in my hand, Her neck trapped in the crease of my arm.

Struggling, I limped out to the well behind my cottage. On the way, She bit any part of me She could get to. I was more tempted than ever to dispose of Her.

The pouring rain matted my shift to my fatigued figure but I pressed on.

Her strength seemed to weaken outside in the watery weather. I found that thought comforting.

As I reached the celestial well, Her teeth sank into my wrist on final time before I listened to Her whisper something in a lnaguage I did not understand. I head the word Hades, the Greek King of the Underworld but I dropped Her in the pit of the well before She was done.

Smirking at my own cleverness, I did not hear someone behind me.

"Oy!" shouted he. "Wha' you standin' by the well this late a' night?" T'was only my neighbor; I sighed.

Fortunately on my own behalf, I had not to answer his dreading question. There was an ear- splitting screech coming from the well.

"Answer me, lad!" he bellowed again.

I stared at him, confused.

"Did you not hear it?" I asked.

"Hear wha'?" I could not believe what he was saying.

"Hear the shrill noise, marking terror on everyone She sees? Hear the sound of death, tapping on your door?"

The man shakes his head before looking up at my face. His skin starts to drain of color, for why I know not.

"Lad, you know your eyes are pitch black, ri'?" He tells me warily. "An' your hair is startin' to fade like mad."

I drop my eyes down to my hands and they are becoming invisible. I blink fervently, hoping to awaken.

My neighbor points a trembling finger at my bosom and sprints quickly away.

Looking down again, I see nothing of my flesh and body but a black, luminescent sphere floating below my head.

The prominent major of my torment was just as much!


Whew. That was hard!! I kinda suck at writing horror and suspense. Oh and please give me some credit, I'm 13. Lol soo um please press that review button.

I *heart* you!!

-Emileigh