Post by FlyIntoOblivion on Apr 19, 2009 0:24:33 GMT -5
So, I sort of said I'd post some of the stuff I'm doing for class here. Well, this is the newest piece I've done-It's unedited, so please feel free to give me constructive criticism! Bonus if someone can tell me where my inspiration came from-I'm actually doing this for a contest, and there's a specific backstory to it.
Enjoy!
The Dwarf Men
They carried Alden Bewley in, four rotund officers puffing from effort, into the unnaturally bright parlor. Oliver Bewley blinked against the light, the oppressive dark from midnight trying to push its way back into the room. The stifling light couldn’t keep out the smell of night, though, seeping out of the officers’ clothes, the smell and the cool of the night they carried with Alden on their dark uniforms.
They laid him out on the parlor sofa while Mum fainted on the other sofa, and one of the officers took off his hat to fan her back to consciousness. “Found him on the rocks. Doesn’t look hurt at all.”
“But why?” Mum clutched a flimsy whisp of lace and linen in her thick matronly hands. “What was he doing out there?”
Oliver walked over to his brother’s side, taking one hand in his own. The fingers were stiff and cold like wax, and he shuddered and pushed it away from him. Alden’s eyelids fluttered, the rapid movements of someone dreaming. “He’s alive, Mum,” Oliver said, pointing at the butterfly movements. Mum cried out, raising her hands to the ceiling even as her son became to mutter under his breath.
The officers and Oliver carried Alden up the dark winding staircase with only the full moon for light. Alden muttered incoherently with the words coming out in a tumble, his eyes open and limbs still slack. They put him to bed fully dressed, and the officers bid their frantic mother a goodnight before the door shut on the oppressively bright parlor.
“Oliver.” Alden’s voice was unfocused, like a flashlight in the dark. “Are you there, Oliver?”
He went to the bedside, clutching Alden’s hand once again. It was warmer now, responsive to touch. His face was still slack, though, making him look years younger, almost Oliver’s age. “Why’d you do it?” Oliver didn't want to say it, but there it was.
In the dark, there was just a faint creasing of his face to show a frown. “What are you talking about, Oliver? I just fell ill, that’s all.”
“They found you by the bridge. You fainted on the rocks.” Oliver found his heart fluttering unevenly in his chest when the creases deepened.
There were sounds downstairs, the clucking tongues of neighbor ladies and Mum’s half-formed sobs seeping up from the floor, but Alden seemed not to hear, his eyes focused on a point on the ceiling. Oliver wished he could shut it out of his own mind, and tried not to think of the bright lights of the kitchen shooting out of the windows for all the world to see.
Alden licked his lips, the thick smacking of his tongue amplified in the dark. “There were men. I went out with some friends. Didn’t you see them?” Oliver shook his head. “But…you must have. You were right there when they came in. They were all short. Like dwarves. Oliver, you had to have.” Alden’s voice, still unfocused, was edging on hysteria.
Oliver swallowed, wondering why his mouth felt packed with raw wool. Maybe to keep the words in. But his brother had always been straight with him, even when Mum was not. “There were no men, Alden. You were alone when the police found you.”
“No, Oliver, I swear it, I met them at the pub last week, and again tonight. They were all mods, I tell you. They wore yellow and green and violet shoes-Oliver!” It became higher pitched, a wail in the dark as Oliver shook his head again. “I swear it, I’m not crazy!”
Oliver stood. “I think Mum needs to know.”
His brother’s hands gripped his elbow, and in jerky movements, Alden half rose from the bed, clinging. “No. You can’t! She won’t take it! Think of what Mum will do.”
Oliver pressed Alden back into the bed, as easy as putting an infant in a crib. “It's okay. You're going to be okay.”
He was at the door when Alden cried out, “I’m not crazy!”
Oliver opened the door. “I know.” He tried to push out the sounds of sobbing behind him as he braced himself for the bright kitchen lights and Mum.
Enjoy!
The Dwarf Men
They carried Alden Bewley in, four rotund officers puffing from effort, into the unnaturally bright parlor. Oliver Bewley blinked against the light, the oppressive dark from midnight trying to push its way back into the room. The stifling light couldn’t keep out the smell of night, though, seeping out of the officers’ clothes, the smell and the cool of the night they carried with Alden on their dark uniforms.
They laid him out on the parlor sofa while Mum fainted on the other sofa, and one of the officers took off his hat to fan her back to consciousness. “Found him on the rocks. Doesn’t look hurt at all.”
“But why?” Mum clutched a flimsy whisp of lace and linen in her thick matronly hands. “What was he doing out there?”
Oliver walked over to his brother’s side, taking one hand in his own. The fingers were stiff and cold like wax, and he shuddered and pushed it away from him. Alden’s eyelids fluttered, the rapid movements of someone dreaming. “He’s alive, Mum,” Oliver said, pointing at the butterfly movements. Mum cried out, raising her hands to the ceiling even as her son became to mutter under his breath.
The officers and Oliver carried Alden up the dark winding staircase with only the full moon for light. Alden muttered incoherently with the words coming out in a tumble, his eyes open and limbs still slack. They put him to bed fully dressed, and the officers bid their frantic mother a goodnight before the door shut on the oppressively bright parlor.
“Oliver.” Alden’s voice was unfocused, like a flashlight in the dark. “Are you there, Oliver?”
He went to the bedside, clutching Alden’s hand once again. It was warmer now, responsive to touch. His face was still slack, though, making him look years younger, almost Oliver’s age. “Why’d you do it?” Oliver didn't want to say it, but there it was.
In the dark, there was just a faint creasing of his face to show a frown. “What are you talking about, Oliver? I just fell ill, that’s all.”
“They found you by the bridge. You fainted on the rocks.” Oliver found his heart fluttering unevenly in his chest when the creases deepened.
There were sounds downstairs, the clucking tongues of neighbor ladies and Mum’s half-formed sobs seeping up from the floor, but Alden seemed not to hear, his eyes focused on a point on the ceiling. Oliver wished he could shut it out of his own mind, and tried not to think of the bright lights of the kitchen shooting out of the windows for all the world to see.
Alden licked his lips, the thick smacking of his tongue amplified in the dark. “There were men. I went out with some friends. Didn’t you see them?” Oliver shook his head. “But…you must have. You were right there when they came in. They were all short. Like dwarves. Oliver, you had to have.” Alden’s voice, still unfocused, was edging on hysteria.
Oliver swallowed, wondering why his mouth felt packed with raw wool. Maybe to keep the words in. But his brother had always been straight with him, even when Mum was not. “There were no men, Alden. You were alone when the police found you.”
“No, Oliver, I swear it, I met them at the pub last week, and again tonight. They were all mods, I tell you. They wore yellow and green and violet shoes-Oliver!” It became higher pitched, a wail in the dark as Oliver shook his head again. “I swear it, I’m not crazy!”
Oliver stood. “I think Mum needs to know.”
His brother’s hands gripped his elbow, and in jerky movements, Alden half rose from the bed, clinging. “No. You can’t! She won’t take it! Think of what Mum will do.”
Oliver pressed Alden back into the bed, as easy as putting an infant in a crib. “It's okay. You're going to be okay.”
He was at the door when Alden cried out, “I’m not crazy!”
Oliver opened the door. “I know.” He tried to push out the sounds of sobbing behind him as he braced himself for the bright kitchen lights and Mum.
I don't recognize the backstory or inspiration - but I hope you tell us someday.
