A Taste Of Death – Original Writing

This story is about a young boy who conk outd with his divorced have in an old house. He used to lead a ordinary life until one mean solar day the young boy heard a creaking sound. What he did not go was that that sound would counterchange his lifeit was or so 1215 am when he heard that creaking sound, a dawdle poignant profound travel. His body was quivering as he ran with fright to shut his window. The wind resound against his body, as if attempting to push his back, blew up his sleeve making the hair on his hand elevate as if they had sympathisen a ghost and gravity was no longer effective on his.Unnerved, he jumped back into his bed, snuggling up as hard as possible persistently looking around trying to see if he could conceive any thing, or anyone. He began falling into a daze, feeling sleepier by the second. As the complete(a) silence conquered the whole house, the only sound he could hear was the loud tick-tock of his clock echoing around his room. As time went fort h the sound grew stronger, until he heard a footstep, which automatically pulled his back into veracity from the hypnotising sound of his clock. The sound was a footstep. His heartbeat intensified as he began to panic ascetically, imagining his fate with this thing and what it had in intrigue for his.He came to yell, yet before he yelled, he realised that that wasnt the malicious tread that he had been keeping an eye out for but another kind of footstep, a lighter, more known stride. It was his mothers. Instantaneously, he leapt out of his bed like a lion hiding beneath straw and convert adapting to his camouflage about to attack his prey. Yet when he got to the corridor all he saw was a minor shadow going into the bathroom and as he went one-step closer, the bathroom opening slammed shut.Eager to know who it was that had entered his bathroom he managed to gather enough courage to step up to the door and knock. What was behind this door was either his mother or his regrettable d oom. Awaiting a reply he knocked again. Suddenly, the door handle began to shake. well-nigh one was going to come out of that bathroom. Petrified, yet too shook up from the intensity, he was motionless. As he felt his heart fall into the pocket of his nightgown, the door suddenly opened. Yet a addict wasnt this to fulfil his evil scheme, but an innocent mothers shimmering, bright, angelic face saying Are you alright dear? In her peaceful, comforting, calm rhythm.Yes Im fine mum The boy replied with a sigh as his mother strode forward out the bathroom and back to his room. Before he got into his room he said, Youd better get or so sleep, you do have school tomorrow you know The boy replied with a yawn and decided that he had had enough a thrill for one day. As he gazed at his clock, he saw that he had been up for two hours and that he really did need some sleep for tomorrow. So, he bravely roam his fears under his pillow for that night for the nightingale had begun its merry chirping.Honey, Im going now. Dont be late to school were the haggling that would have normally woken the boy up, but not today and not ever again. For today he lay by his mothers corpse as the tears trickled down his heart-breaking, shining, diamond-like eyes. His eyes began leaking and before he knew it, his iris was afloat a lost boat chasing reality, twirling from side to side with his confusion. Whilst the tears rolled down his cheeks, he replayed the depressing moment when, his mother was fine-tuneed. He remembered it clearly and what hurt his most was that he could have do nothing against this vile, sickening monstrosity.He remembered how his mother was screaming for him to run away and save him self. How he didnt attend to his mother. How he declined his mothers final demand. How the voice of the monster brought terror to his heart, when it said, I cannot be killed. How he repeatedly stabbed the monster with the kitchen knife with no effect. How the monster crushed his m other in front of his very eyes. How the monster came to kill and torment his. How, instead of killing his he threw the knife right above his head as he stood there with his eyes closed. How he could almost taste death a bitter, resentful flavour intake in his mouth.He remembered it all perfectly. Suddenly a flashback of all the good memories he had with his mother when he was a young boy how both time he was sad his mother made his smile. How every time he was scared his mother comforted his. How every time he had a puzzle he could talk to his mother about it and his mother would always find a solution to that problem. How on the first day of school he held his mothers hand tightly because he was scared he wouldnt set(p) in.But what hurt his most was that he remembered his father who he had also lost he remembered in particular when he used to call his mother a Glamazon and he would ask his father oer and over again what a Glamazon meant. Yet he would never tell his. But now he knew. It meant strong lady. Yet he found that his father wasnt lying. His mother really was strong. But now, now he has lost both his father and mother. And all that night he drowned in his sorrow, wishing there was something that he could have done to save his mother.Unable to believe the events that happened he felt he could not live without the mother he was overly attached to. He couldnt accept that she had gone. All that day, he cried on his mothers toilet table calling her name until his voice disappeared. He still silently called for his mother and forever will. Later that night he made a decision. He was going to reunite with his beloved mother. As he took the very(prenominal) kitchen knife he incessantly stabbed his mothers assassin with he criedOh dagger Show me no mercy descent through my heart and liberate my soul to reunite with my motherAnd so, he lay motionless on his mothers yieldingly curvaceous body blood staining his white night gown. Once again, silence conqu ered their syndicate with a nightingale chirping merrily as mother and son lay in a syndicate of united blood.