Last Light

A story of a young girl who's afraid of being alone in the world.

    Lily screamed out her last words of sorrow to the cruel, cold world as she pulled the trigger. Her words of pain echoed throughout the surrounding village that lay beyond the crying forest. She fell slowly to the ground, barely disturbing the surrounding leaves, this echo could be heard for miles. A light breeze brushed past the dead corpse, moving its brown and golden hair, revealing a fresh bullet wound on its temple.

    Lucy suddenly jerked awake from her nightmare holding her chest. Stared at her blue and white flowered desk, which held four black candles. Two of them were always lit, flickering cheerful yellow light, just enough to see where the dresser was sitting. These candles represented her sister, Lily, and herself. While the other two candles sat in pure darkness, silent, representing their dead parents.

    She sat straight up in her bed to get a better look at the mesmerizing flames, but hopelessness was all she was able to feel. Staring hard and biting her bottom lip. she watched the flame from the smallest candle slowly flicker out right before her eyes. Then, as she watched in abject terror, the second candle projected a shadow on the wall; a shadow resembling the outline of her baby sister's corpse lying in the open field miles away.

    Lucy knew exactly what had just happened. She had foreseen it happening in her dreams for nights. She used all her strength to  push her aching body off of her wooden bed that she was sitting on. Overwhelmed with grief, Lucy stumbled across the floor to her half lit dresser, which stood inches away, almost tripping over her cat, Jamie, who hissed at her impatiently in the darkness. Lucy threw her arms out in front of her; she seemed almost ready to attack the panting feline that stood before her. Realizing it was Jamie, Lucy shooed her away, her eyes remaining on the shadow before her.

    Still gazing at the candle and the shadow it cast, she felt sort of faint. Her big blue eyes filled with tears, and her legs felt like pieces of rubber. Her sister was dead. She fell to her knees in disbelief and pounded the ground with her fists. Her eyes were now like glass, tears poured down her fragile face. She began to scream in terror, shouting out any words that came to her mind. Knowing no one could hear the screaming due to the raging thunderstorm still holding its ground outside her window. She was having a hard time breathing from all the crying, so she threw her bloody hands to her chest, gripping it with all her might, staining her black nightgown with shame.

    She had to bear the thoughts of being alone in the world, with no parents, and now no sister. It just tore Lucy up inside.

    "Will I even have the guts to attend my sister's funeral?" She thought to herself silently.

    "No," she shouted.

    "I must end this pain and suffering right now," she said to herself in tears.

   She slowly rummaged through the bottom dresser drawer, throwing a pink diary across the room till she found what she was looking for. She finally found it. She pulled her bloody hand from the drawer, revealing a four-inch switchblade that had belonged to her father. Her body twitched, revealing her true feelings toward the blade that was being wielded near her with her shaking right hand. She closed her eyes, ready to strike.

    "Bye, World," she said in a whisper that not even the cat could hear.

    She planted the blade against her sweating, pale neck, sliding the gleaming blade across it; gently she fell to the floor with a soft thud.

    The last black candle flickered out, underscoring the silence that engulfed the room. At last the little apartment was enveloped in total darkness.

    The thunderstorm outside settled, the blackness was now only punctuated only by the musical howling of a wolf, but it was far, far away.

    Silence.

Reviews

[Charles D. Moorer]

You have packed an enormous emotionial punch in a one pager. This is very powerful, hanutingly powerful. This has the potentilal to be a much longer story, the death of the parents, the death of the sister, the sinister forces that drove them to take their live or did they. Was if pure grief that caused the proptagonist to take her life?

Check the spelling in the third paragraph, first sentence "teh" the?

[tora]

wow you put lot of emotion in your story makeing it from scary nightmare to just a dream very good