Author's Note: Hey guys. I wrote this for an English Exam, and I finally got it back today, so I get to post it! Just so you know, I got the highest mark in the year group!


The Night of the Storm

A Story of Love

The night was cold. The wind was howling angrily. The clouds were shooting bullets of rain to all who passed under them. The streets were silent. Ice clung to the roads, waiting for an unlucky soul to plunge to their death. Lightning clapped and thunder roared. The sky was angry.

A lone man wandered the streets, his shaggy brown head hung low. The cold prickled hairs on the fair-skinned arms. He passed a dimming lamppost, and his young face became illuminated; he wasn't even twenty. The lightning clapped again, and his cold blue eyes became visible; two sharp pieces of ice. Pain ran down the back of his neck, tickling his spine in a sinister way. His sleeveless jacket was soaked, his jeans were drenched and his boots were full of icy water.

His heart ached with pain and loss. Images of the previous day were still fresh in his mind.

He'd hoped of winning her over by beating her boyfriend in a duel. The loser, he thought savagely, wondering how the mousy-haired tough guy could ever get a girl like her to notice him. Impossible, he mused.

The young man hunched his shoulders and pulled up his collar. The storm was getting worse.

Just in time, he dodged a rogue dustbin, sent by the wind. Fences were being ripped to pieces.

Out of now-where, a man came staggering into the street. He was dressed in a baggy overcoat, laden with water. His hair was grizzled and unkempt, and he's not shaven for days. His mouth was sagging and his eyes were dizzy and unfocussed. In one hand he carried a bottle of half consumed spirit. In the other, he held an eight inch blade.

The young man was wary, but he was too lovesick to be frightened. He carried on walking towards the drunken man. He had just about passed him, when the drunk swayed and knocked into the youth's shoulder.

"Watch where you're going!" slurred the drunk, turning to the young man, but he just shrugged and carried on walking. He was pulled back, and made to face the drunk.

Cold steel pierced his skin and penetrated his flesh, just above his stomach. Crimson blood blossomed from the wound as the young man let out a yelp of pain. Someone somewhere heard that scream.

The drunk ran, confused, and didn't look back, leaving the young man alone.

He gasped with pain, and felt as though poison was searing through his body. He clutched his wound, feeling the warm blood on his frozen hands.

The rain still came down, as though the clouds had been stabbed too.

He collapsed to his knees, and fell onto his back, staring at the stormy sky. He'd never see again now…never…

As he sank slowly nearer to death, the storm began to cease. The clouds stopped crying. Flakes of snow began to fall, ever so swiftly and silently. Even after a few moments, soft white powder surrounded the young man's body. The snow fell onto his blood stained clothes.

After what had seemed a life time, she finally came into view, the one who had heard his cry for help. She was beautiful. Her waves of blonde hair cascaded down her back. Her violet eyes were full of emotion; she had been crying. She knelt down beside him, and grasped his lifeless hand.

"I love you, and I'm never going to loose you…"


If you're interested, this is what my English teacher wrote about my paper: Organised and interesting writing. Engaging in parts. Effective use of vocabulary and a range of sentence structures. Some powerful descriptions, and though the violence is graphic, it is not gratuitous. Well done, 15 marks out of 17, level 7+.

Cool, huh? I thought it was! In case you didn't know, the young man was Varon (or Valon) and the woman was Mai. Of course, the 'mousy-haired tough guy' was Jou (or Joey). Please review, and there won't be any more I'm sorry to say!