Art Story #4

English assignment on the painting The Scream by Edward Munch

 

 

           It was just another usual day in Norway. The sun was shining bright, but its warmth never reached the folk of the town. It was always cold here, even in the summer time.

            Helga was having a wonderful day on the beach. The slight breeze comforted her. She walked along the beach every morning. The soft sand tickled her feet. The cold water lapped at her sand infested toes. She came upon the pier of their harbor. An old wooden pier built for the Vikings that once lived there. She placed her shoes back on her feet for the wood of the pier had a tendency of splintering off. She stopped at the end of the pier, admiring her reflection. Her perfect features. Her skin a pure white color. Her golden hair billowing softly in the wind. This she admired the most because of its smell of fresh fruit that encircled her nose. She thought it smelled wonderful. But she wasn’t the only one.

            A lone seagull, flying overhead, lived on the harbor. Times were hard for this poor seagull, as it was for all of the seagulls that lived here. The fisherman were over fishing the waters, leaving hardly any food for the gulls. They usually hobbled around trash cans, looking for any sort of scrap of food to fill their tiny bellies. Suddenly the gull caught wind of a delicious fruity smell. His immediate response was to swoop down for a better view. His eyes scanned the harbor, falling on the maiden at the pier. He circled in to find that delightful smell. He perched down on one of the wooden pillars of the pier and stared directly at Helga’s hair, the source of the glorious smell. In his eyes he saw a fresh bowl of fruit, not the leftovers of someone’s lunch, no. Actual whole food. There must be some form of food within the tangles of her golden hair he thought. He wanted to attempt its capture, but not alone.

            A lone squawk startled Helga. A pair of beady eyes, that followed her everywhere, creeped her out. She absent mindedly ignored it. One gull was actually pretty common around these parts. Soon more joined in. As more birds camped down on the pier, she began to get very nervous, anxious for the birds to leave. 20 birds now stared at her, and it really frightened her. Suddenly a second squawk came from the original bird and the flock swarmed. Her scream echoed across the empty waters.

            The seagulls left, having not found any food in the golden locks, strands still clinging to their feathers. They flew away in disappointment. Perhaps the next scent would provide a more decent meal.

            Helga laid there on the pier, sobbing incoherently. People walked past her, one look scared them off. Finally she rose off of the ground, little bits of the pier rising with her. Her hands covered her soaked face as she edged towards the water. Through the midst of crying, Helga pried her own hands off of her face.

            Her reflection looked nothing like it did moments before. Scratches covered the expanse of her fair skin, large welts surrounding the scrapes. Blood was dripping down her face, battle wounds from the birds. But the worst part was that her golden hair was completely gone. Every last curl had been taken by those wretched birds. This brought out a long lasting scream as the adrenaline wore off, and she realized what she was seeing. With a look of complete horror, and sudden determination, she dove into the frozen waters, never to be seen again. Now and again, tourists visit that pier, amidst the warnings of the locals. With  her voice reverberating off of the harbor, her ghost walked the pier, hands clasping the side of her face, forever trapped in her own unsightliness.

 

Author's Note

I just like where my imagination went with the painting...

Reviews

[Jinx]

Wow, I got chills from reading this. Good job!