For my narrative I am going to be continuing the story in the point of view of Mrs. Bowles (the one who swore that she would never go back there):
I stumbled out of the house in a furious rage. I ran straight to home and joined my 'family'. Instantly I started to relax.
"Stupid fireman with his stupid book," I sniveled. Why did poetry hurt so much? Why did people want to hurt others like that? I watched my 'family' for a while longer, my heart beat slowing down. I felt relaxed... but why did I have this sense of dread in my heart? Why did listening to that poem arouse such emotion out of me? Never before had I cried, not even for my first divorce, or my second husband, dead! But why for this? Bawling I ran out the front door, tripped on the sidewalk and cried. Cried for all my husbands, my children, and the sad...sad poem.
Slowly I got up and went inside.
"Sleeping pills... I need sleeping pills," I murmured to my self. I took the vial, popped the cap off, and swallowed all of them. I limped upstairs and went into my bed. I put my seashells in my ears, listening to the soft music and sounds, rocking back and forth in my bed. Slowly, without thinking, I reached for the phone. I dialed some numbers,
"Hello? Fire department? I have to report something..." After the phone call I lay in bed, with tears on my face. I didn't even know why I was crying. Something about... a poem... maybe? I didn't care. I closed my eyes, and went into a deep sleep. I never woke up again.
I stumbled out of the house in a furious rage. I ran straight to home and joined my 'family'. Instantly I started to relax.
"Stupid fireman with his stupid book," I sniveled. Why did poetry hurt so much? Why did people want to hurt others like that? I watched my 'family' for a while longer, my heart beat slowing down. I felt relaxed... but why did I have this sense of dread in my heart? Why did listening to that poem arouse such emotion out of me? Never before had I cried, not even for my first divorce, or my second husband, dead! But why for this? Bawling I ran out the front door, tripped on the sidewalk and cried. Cried for all my husbands, my children, and the sad...sad poem.
Slowly I got up and went inside.
"Sleeping pills... I need sleeping pills," I murmured to my self. I took the vial, popped the cap off, and swallowed all of them. I limped upstairs and went into my bed. I put my seashells in my ears, listening to the soft music and sounds, rocking back and forth in my bed. Slowly, without thinking, I reached for the phone. I dialed some numbers,
"Hello? Fire department? I have to report something..." After the phone call I lay in bed, with tears on my face. I didn't even know why I was crying. Something about... a poem... maybe? I didn't care. I closed my eyes, and went into a deep sleep. I never woke up again.
I liked how you evolved the character from a static character to a dynamic character (Kinda like pokemon)... Excellent job
ReplyDeleteGood narrative Vidhan. I really like the dialogue you added, it really helps to make your narrative more strong.
ReplyDeleteWow I thought this was really good! You did a good job with diction and vocab. I like how all this information got to her so far that she basically couldn't take it anymore. It shows how crazy people in their society really are.
ReplyDeleteHey Vidhan! Nice Job on this post amazing diction and transitions.
ReplyDeleteGreat continuation Vidhan! I didn't think of continuing her story in that way( the sleeping pills). I really liked how you developed and evolved her that quickly. Nice post!
ReplyDelete