Ivernus
08-03-2010, 11:21 AM
After reading Screw's story thread, I was inspired to go find probably the only story I've written that I would ever share. I may find a few more in the future but its highly likely this may be the only one I post up.
As a bit of backstory, this was written as a QCS practice (A Nationwide test) test and I managed to tie with top marks with it. For this story, we had to pick one of the many stimuli provided and then write a story based on the stimuli. I believe mine was based on two Stimuli, one about not forgetting and one about keeping in mind that which matters.
Do note this story is years old and I copied it word for word, keeping the mistakes that were originally in it...because I could XD. Hope you guys don't find this a bore to read
A Forgotten Matter
Alone a man stood, on all sides surrounded by strange stone constructions, all casting eerie shadows in the moonlight. A single tear slid down the man's face, unnoticed and unrestrained until it became entangled on protruding hairs forming the edge of an unshaven beard. The man blinked once, than twice in surprise before moving his hand to brush the strange irritation, only to feel an unfamiliar dampness upon his face. Astonished the man traced the drying gullies of his face to the point they met with his eyes.
"I was crying?" he thought in disbelief "what could matter so much as to make me cry?" Recomposing his senses, the man looked at his surroundings again. The stone constructions stood like solid archways, embedded within the ground and spreading out in all directions to the boundaries formed by trees, roads and fences alike. The strange constructions began the ticking of a memory in his mind, but failed the make the vital connection. "What is it that mattered? Why can't I remember what mattered?" Looking once more into the dark surrounding he spotted a stone shelter, the dark abyss of its belly cut off from the outside world by the iron gate within its mouth
Yet what the man noticed most, what mattered most about the building, what mattered most about the building, was a stone carved creature on the front, hanging as a warning over the mouth to the abyss. As the man saw it, a memory from the past surfaced, one where he and his wife joked about how out of place it looked, his wife...
"Mary!" The man shouted, the name sounding strange on his tongue, as though it had been overused upon this night. "What is it about Mary that matters though?" he pondered, his mind slowly filling in the gaps. Suddenly one of the holes in his memory filled, and the man felt the blood drain from his face as the even played out in his mind. Fighting the urge to throw up, the man reached into his pocket for his mobile, finding it already turned on as he withdrew his hand.
The man considered what this meant for less than a second "It doesn't matter, what does matter is that I speak to Mary". As the man dialled the tone, his hand began to tremble as he placed the phone to his ear. Silence, an eerie and confusing silence was all the man heard yet he spoke anyway, tears threatening to run down his face. "Mary, I'm sorry please forgive me." The man waited a few seconds for a response but heard none "Mary please say something!" Silence was once again his answer. Hanging up the man placed the phone in his pocket, still leaving it switched on.
As the urge to panic swam through his body, the man began to sprint through the woods towards his house, he needed to know that Mary was alright. "I need to know that what matters to me still exists". A branch caught on his arm and reopened a wound he had failed to notice, the crimson blood feeling oddly familiar as it dropped down his skin. Swearing, the man slowed his pace, feeling as if hundreds of eyes watched from the shadowed woods, and the tree branches reached in front as if in an attempt to drag him back, to keep him from his answer.
Finally as he emerged from the dense foliage the man paused to catch his breath, exhausted from the short journey. "Now I just need to find..." The thoughts dried in his mind as he stared at the place where his house should have been, yet instead a long since burnt out ruins was within his vision. Staggering over with a newly founded fear, the man bent low to examine the ruins. As his gaze rested on the ash, he suddenly froze, his mind not believing what his eyes had shown. A handprint..., no his handprint was implanted in the ash with a number '1' written underneath. As his mind began to finally make the connection, the man looked to the right of the handprint, seeing many more, each with a number one larger than the one before.
As he followed the line of prints, he began to scream in his mind, not wanting to believe what was happening. Then, almost mechanically, he placed his hand in the ash at the end of all the others, and slowly drew a number underneath. "This can't be real...I don't want to believe this!" His mind made one final connection and tears began to drift from his eyes, there was still the one thing that mattered. Sprinting back through the woods, the trees let the man pass this time, as if mockingly they wanted him to see the truth. As he ran, the man's mind began to play the memories which had been hidden, surfaced by the shock that the truth had brought. The fight between him and Mary, the sudden fire erupting in the night, him in his rage forgetting what mattered most...and him watching...and hearing her screams of agony.
As he returning to the stone he had originally been staring at he slowly knelt down, numb with fear and uncertainly began to read what was on the stone "Mary Austin...1968-2004...May her soul help those in the afterlife as much as she did in this world".
The man staggered back as if struck by a blow, tears streaming from his face as the floodgates were opened. In the feeling of fear and rage he had forgotten to remember what mattered most and was now cursed to continue to forget what it was that mattered most until his mind and body were to rot
As a bit of backstory, this was written as a QCS practice (A Nationwide test) test and I managed to tie with top marks with it. For this story, we had to pick one of the many stimuli provided and then write a story based on the stimuli. I believe mine was based on two Stimuli, one about not forgetting and one about keeping in mind that which matters.
Do note this story is years old and I copied it word for word, keeping the mistakes that were originally in it...because I could XD. Hope you guys don't find this a bore to read
A Forgotten Matter
Alone a man stood, on all sides surrounded by strange stone constructions, all casting eerie shadows in the moonlight. A single tear slid down the man's face, unnoticed and unrestrained until it became entangled on protruding hairs forming the edge of an unshaven beard. The man blinked once, than twice in surprise before moving his hand to brush the strange irritation, only to feel an unfamiliar dampness upon his face. Astonished the man traced the drying gullies of his face to the point they met with his eyes.
"I was crying?" he thought in disbelief "what could matter so much as to make me cry?" Recomposing his senses, the man looked at his surroundings again. The stone constructions stood like solid archways, embedded within the ground and spreading out in all directions to the boundaries formed by trees, roads and fences alike. The strange constructions began the ticking of a memory in his mind, but failed the make the vital connection. "What is it that mattered? Why can't I remember what mattered?" Looking once more into the dark surrounding he spotted a stone shelter, the dark abyss of its belly cut off from the outside world by the iron gate within its mouth
Yet what the man noticed most, what mattered most about the building, what mattered most about the building, was a stone carved creature on the front, hanging as a warning over the mouth to the abyss. As the man saw it, a memory from the past surfaced, one where he and his wife joked about how out of place it looked, his wife...
"Mary!" The man shouted, the name sounding strange on his tongue, as though it had been overused upon this night. "What is it about Mary that matters though?" he pondered, his mind slowly filling in the gaps. Suddenly one of the holes in his memory filled, and the man felt the blood drain from his face as the even played out in his mind. Fighting the urge to throw up, the man reached into his pocket for his mobile, finding it already turned on as he withdrew his hand.
The man considered what this meant for less than a second "It doesn't matter, what does matter is that I speak to Mary". As the man dialled the tone, his hand began to tremble as he placed the phone to his ear. Silence, an eerie and confusing silence was all the man heard yet he spoke anyway, tears threatening to run down his face. "Mary, I'm sorry please forgive me." The man waited a few seconds for a response but heard none "Mary please say something!" Silence was once again his answer. Hanging up the man placed the phone in his pocket, still leaving it switched on.
As the urge to panic swam through his body, the man began to sprint through the woods towards his house, he needed to know that Mary was alright. "I need to know that what matters to me still exists". A branch caught on his arm and reopened a wound he had failed to notice, the crimson blood feeling oddly familiar as it dropped down his skin. Swearing, the man slowed his pace, feeling as if hundreds of eyes watched from the shadowed woods, and the tree branches reached in front as if in an attempt to drag him back, to keep him from his answer.
Finally as he emerged from the dense foliage the man paused to catch his breath, exhausted from the short journey. "Now I just need to find..." The thoughts dried in his mind as he stared at the place where his house should have been, yet instead a long since burnt out ruins was within his vision. Staggering over with a newly founded fear, the man bent low to examine the ruins. As his gaze rested on the ash, he suddenly froze, his mind not believing what his eyes had shown. A handprint..., no his handprint was implanted in the ash with a number '1' written underneath. As his mind began to finally make the connection, the man looked to the right of the handprint, seeing many more, each with a number one larger than the one before.
As he followed the line of prints, he began to scream in his mind, not wanting to believe what was happening. Then, almost mechanically, he placed his hand in the ash at the end of all the others, and slowly drew a number underneath. "This can't be real...I don't want to believe this!" His mind made one final connection and tears began to drift from his eyes, there was still the one thing that mattered. Sprinting back through the woods, the trees let the man pass this time, as if mockingly they wanted him to see the truth. As he ran, the man's mind began to play the memories which had been hidden, surfaced by the shock that the truth had brought. The fight between him and Mary, the sudden fire erupting in the night, him in his rage forgetting what mattered most...and him watching...and hearing her screams of agony.
As he returning to the stone he had originally been staring at he slowly knelt down, numb with fear and uncertainly began to read what was on the stone "Mary Austin...1968-2004...May her soul help those in the afterlife as much as she did in this world".
The man staggered back as if struck by a blow, tears streaming from his face as the floodgates were opened. In the feeling of fear and rage he had forgotten to remember what mattered most and was now cursed to continue to forget what it was that mattered most until his mind and body were to rot