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Roses
Topic Started: May 3 2005, 03:32 PM (139 Views)
Andros
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Check my location.
The smell of roses still lingers in that room…

A century ago, Thomas and Hester sold their old house. They had been best friends all through childhood and finally tied the knot in their early twenties. Time passed rapidly, and already little Claire was five years old. They sold the old house that Thomas had grown up in, where his father and his father for generations past had lived, to start afresh as a family.

When they arrived at their new flat in Massachusetts, something was immediately awry. Though the house was clean and tidy for their arrival, it reeked of mystery. The very walls seemed to drip long-forgotten memories of auld. Finally, the move was complete and their new family was settled in the bustling city.

Time dragged on as it seems to always do, and Claire grew up and went off to college, which cost the family a great deal of money though they were very proud of her. Years later, she returned when old Hester’s health waned. Soon after her arrival, Hester was dead. A month after the funeral, Thomas joined his wife in the beyond.

Claire moved into the house with its added despair. Now the sadness that oozed from the walls called out to her, as if they no longer wanted occupants. She ignored the warnings and led her life. Eventually, she met a strapping young lad named Quentin. On the day of their marriage, he bestowed upon her the largest, most luscious rose in the entire world, it seemed. After they had been married, Quentin decided to move into Claire’s house instead of buying a new house elsewhere.

Soon after, baby James was bouncing into the scene.

One day, Quentin in town buying shoes for the family. Claire waited by the second-story window in her chair as she had done in years past. She was getting older, and could feel it creeping up on her. James was attending primary school already. She laid back in her chair and slept, dreaming of James dancing in the fields nearby.

When Quentin arrived at his house, nobody greeted him. He rushed up the stairs and was never seen again. Claire’s face still loomed out of the window, but something seemed odd. Days, months, and years passed but she remained in the chair. James left the house to attend Harvard University.

The house fell into disrepair. The shutters creaked in the wind and spider webs sprouted like crabgrass out of every nook and cranny of the house. Claire’s pale face still peeked out of the now-crusted window. Eventually, the neighbors came by to bring her a basket of fruit. They never left.

The police eventually investigated. When Lieutenant Charles opened the door to Claire’s room, he promptly vomited. Bones lay scattered across the floor. The pallid corpse of Quentin laid in a corner; his rotting flesh hanging in threads that stuck to the wallpaper that sagged like the body of a mouse in the mouth of a triumphant cat. And in the chair by the window was the corpse of Clair, long deteriorated. However, her face gleamed out as it did in her youth. In her skeletal hand was a wilted, crusty rose.

The smell of roses still lingers in that room…
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mafioso666
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Lumyl Milish Dyrityl
Hmmm, that's good and I am ussually very cynical when it comes to amatuer writing, but this was rather thrilling. Did you write this? If you did I have to say you have great attention to detail and suspense. Some of your similes are a bit strained granted but overall a very pleasing result and finally someone who pays attention to grammar. If you did write this I applaud you and look forwards to more.

P.S. How old are you?
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Andros
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Check my location.
I am very much a stickler for grammar... I'm 15.
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RKTuneKitty
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duffle bag
wow...... :blink:
you're GOOD! :lol:
and my teachers always told me that i was a good writer. did you write this ahead of time, or was it made up as you went? either way its awesome :) it seems that i must write something on this forum or be smitten <_<
:lol:
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