City of IF

[tramp in a storm]

This is a story that I might use for my English GCSE :D

Little Joseph.

“Mummy!” he screamed and ran through another door of the school. Why wasn’t anybody else here? Did they leave for the field trip early, or did he get the time wrong? He ran and ran as fast as his little legs would go. As he ran, he yelled for his mum or dad and longed for the safety of his home. He had always loved this school.

This building held happy memories of his life up until now. But every step he took as he ran made him hate the place even more. What once had been his playground was now his graveyard – and he knew it.

The corridor stretched onwards, and he ran, for what seemed like an age, until he reached the door and burst through it. He ran over to his desk at the back corner of his classroom and dived behind it.

He sat in the corner with his arms curled around his legs and his face buried between his knees. He sobbed as quietly as he could. He was worn out. He had just ran faster and for longer than ever before in his life – he could no longer continue. His cousin, Carmen, used to take him with her on her jogs, but he would always get a rest every few minutes.

“That’s pretty good for an eight year old,” she had said last time, before treating him to a chocolate ice-cream.

Now, he sat in a corner, scared for his life, wishing that his older cousin was here – but she wasn’t. He was alone, in his classroom, someone looking for him. To eat him – or worse. He sat for a moment longer, feeling abandoned and betrayed by everyone who he had ever loved; his mum and dad weren’t here, or Carmen.

Not even Mrs Donavan or his friends. All the people who had always been there – he had taken their presence for granted. Now though, he missed them and would do anything in the world to have at least one of them here, to help him.
The door creaked open and he lifted his head just enough to see two heavy boots stomp into the room.

He buried his face deeper into his knees and waited. The sobbing ceased. There was silence. Then – there was nothing.

She sat, cross legged, on her bed, reading. The light was turned down low. Another of her friends had moved away that morning – everybody was moving away. Since little Joseph died in his classroom – or so people said - strange things had started to happen.

All the teachers from the school had resigned and moved to distant towns and cities, away from Thanatoville and Naiseph Junior School. But Carmen had decided to teach herself until her parents, too, made the decision to evacuate.

As she read, the light started to dim. She looked around her room. Maybe the light bulb was wearing out. As she stood and went towards the light switch, the room got colder. She shivered. She turned the switch but the light would not get brighter. She gave up and opened her bedroom door just enough to poke her head out.

“Mum!” she called. “Can we have the central heating on, please? It’s freezing up here!”

“It’s already on number 21! Check that your window is closed properly.” Came the reply.

“OK.” Carmen moaned and went to check her bedroom window. It was shut tight. She felt around the edges for a draft, but there was none – yet the room grew colder and colder.

“Strange.” She shivered as she turned away from the window. She felt a breath on the back of her neck. She gasped and turned sharply. She screamed as she saw a reflection in her window, expecting it to be a monster from her darkest nightmares.

But she let out a sigh of relief when she realised that it was just her, being silly. She had never believed in ghosts and spirits and she was not about to start now. She new that they existed in stories and films. She loved horror. But there was no way that all that imagination and camera trick stuff was true.

The room grew colder and darker. But then it stopped. The temperature remained as it was and the light dimmed no more. Carmen stood with her back against the wall looking around her room. Then she felt a death. A feeling deep in her gut that death was around. It confused her senses. She did not know what to think, what to believe.

She felt a sudden pain in her head. A painful throbbing that thumped against her forehead and brows. Her vision dulled and cleared, dulled again and cleared once more only to dull and clear one final time. Her knees trembled and lost their strength, so she slid to the floor, holding her head in her hands. She shut her eyes tight and, in great agony, she screamed for her mum.

Then - as if it had all been a dream – everything was back to normal. Carmen’s mum opened her daughter’s bedroom door only to find Carmen, on the floor, asleep. She helped her into her bed, tucked her in like she used to when she was younger, kissed her forehead and left the room. The room was warm again, but the light remained dim. The foreboding atmosphere had not disappeared, but it remained – haunting Carmen in her dreams.

She slept a restless night as the moon rose high into the sky and as the clouds rushed past it in a hurry to leave this dreadful place. And when the sun rose, she slept; nightmares haunting her dreams. Nightmares of a boy running through his school at the age of eight and then nothing – nothing but blood – blood, the deepest red of reds, innocent blood everywhere.

She awoke. The Sunday’s sun was hiding behind the thickest clouds and the wind howled as it rushed through gaps and pipes outside, pushing trees from side to side. Carmen sighed. A storm was on its way. She rubbed her head and frowned as she lay there, trying to think of what had happened the night before. She sat up and slipped out from her bed. She realised that she was still wearing her clothes.

That’s strange she thought, I never go to bed without changing into my pyjamas. She slipped her dressing gown on anyway and looked for her slippers. As she was searching her room she realised that her book was on her desk and there was a note on it. She didn’t remember putting it there.
She usually left it at the side of her bed.
Carmen stepped forward – she approached her desk with all the caution in this dimension. As she got closer, dreadful, nightmarish memories from the night before returned to her mind.

The room grew colder as she got closer, fear rising within her like the blood rising in a vampire’s glass as he pours himself a bloody drink. Memories of her cousin flashed through her mind, one after another, after another, after another. She tried to fight them back, but they were too strong for her.
She tried to stop herself – to turn and run. But she couldn’t. The curiosity was rising in her as fast as her fear.

Then nothing. All the feelings were gone. She picked up the note and read it.

Dear Carmen,
I don’t have much time. I will explain better later. I need you to help me. Please meet me at that school. I’ll be in class 14.

This was Joseph’s unmistakable hand writing. The way that the letters curved at the edges, and the circle parts of the letters were almost perfect circles made it obvious that this letter was definitely written by him. But how could it have been? Carmen stumbled backwards with the shock.
Was he really alive? His body was never recovered after all…But how did he get into her room to leave the note? And if it really was him, it didn’t explain the mysterious events from the night before.

After she had breakfast, Carmen changed into fresh clothes, put on her coat, took the note from her desk and locked the front door as she left the house. (She just hoped that her dad had a key and that he would be back from work before her mum.) She quickly made her way to Naiseph Junior School and sneaked in through a gap in the broken gates at the back of the school.

She crouched as she ran towards the back doors and entered. Once inside the building, she didn’t have to worry about being seen, there were no cameras because the school could simply not afford them. And now that the school was not being used, who needed them? She straightened up and walked down the corridors, her right hand in the coat pocket clutching the knife that she had brought with her.

Any seventeen year old girl would know better than to go somewhere by herself to meet someone who could be anyone without having something to protect herself with – especially a seventeen year old girl who had fallen into a similar trap before. She hurried along the corridors nervously, not knowing if it really was her cousin who left the note. If it wasn’t, she would most likely need that knife. If it was…
She turned the first corner and room 14 was immediately on her left. She looked through the window and saw no-one. She opened the door slowly, carefully - fear and excitement rising within her even faster than before. She clutched her knife and held it so tightly that she warmed up the handle. She could feel her hands getting sweaty and beads of sweat forming on her forehead. She entered the room. Nobody was there. She shut the door behind her and quickly opened the windows, just in case she needed another escape.

She turned from the windows. That was when she saw him. There he stood. A boy, about the age of twelve. He looked her straight in the eyes, his own filling up with tears. Carmen stared back, shocked. He looked exactly like little Joseph, but a bit older.

“J-Jo-” she gulped, “-seph?”

“Hey, Carm.” he replied as a tear escaped from his eye. Joseph was the only one to call her Carm. It was definitely him.

“I-thought-you were dead.”
There was a pause.

“I…Carmen, I… I am dead.” His eyes dropped their gaze. Carmen stared at him with horror. She pulled out a chair and sat down.

“I don’t believe in ghosts, Joe.”

“Then watch.” He suddenly started to turn transparent. Just before he faded completely, he stopped and resumed his ‘alive’ looking form. Carmen gasped and almost fell backwards off her chair with shock. Now she believed. Never in her whole life had she believed in ghosts.
Not even when she was a little girl. Not even after all the horror films and books… But now, now she believed. Now she was seeing her cousin! Her beloved baby cousin who was thought to have been dead for four years! Her worst nightmares were real!

They sat for a while, trying to get over the shock. Then Joseph explained to Carmen about what happened to him. He explained about how he was chased through the school and how it was his uncle who had killed him. First he had knocked him out, then taken him to some abandoned building in the middle of nowhere and killed him. But not just that.
First he had tortured him with various types of sharp knives making him watch as he killed another three people, including his teacher, Mrs Donavan, and his best friend. And then he cut off his fingers and then his legs and the rest of his arms. Then he put him in a black bin bag and took him to the dump, where he disposed of him.

“How do you know all this? Weren’t you dead by now?” asked Carmen hoping that she was right for thinking that all of this was some sort of sick trick.

“When I died, I became a ghost, just like the other three, because there was something I needed to do before I passed on.”

Then he explained about how his teacher helped him get over what he had experienced. She had studied psychology and she used her knowledge to help Joseph so that she could pass on.
The child who Joseph did not know was too young and passed on straight away. But his friend needed to be able to trust Joseph to find away to tell his parents what had really happened. Joseph also wanted to tell his parents. So after reassuring his friend, who was then able to pass on, he tried to contact Carmen.

“Every time I make myself visible or noticeable, I have a limited amount of time. However, every time I do this, my time increases. I thought that maybe one day I’ll be able to make it so that I can stay like this forever.
But I read that if I did that, I would be banished to live forever. Carmen, death isn’t really that scary. I don’t know what will happen if I pass over, but I need to sort this out. I need my parents to know.
Otherwise I may well have to walk around this world for ever watching my parents suffer from not knowing. And then I’d have to watch as the world destroyed itself. I need you to help me. My time is limited. I have until tonight to either tell my parents or to kill a person who was close to me so that I can have more time to tell my parents.”

“Why haven’t you told them yet? The way that you told me to meet you?”

“Because they won’t believe it. I’ve already tried. I need you to come with me, take the video and give it to them. I can’t carry it because it will go straight through me.”

So she followed him. Or rather she followed his whisper because he couldn’t risk being seen. When they finally arrived at the old playschool, he led her to room 1 and she took the video.
Then she sneaked out and made her way towards her uncle and auntie’s house. She knocked on the door. The door opened. She stepped in expecting her uncle or aunty to be behind the door. But the door slammed and she turned to face her distantly related uncle. He was Joseph’s dad’s second cousin.

“Where is uncle Sam?” she asked.

“He’s not here at the moment.” Ian grinned at her. This was the guy who killed little Joseph. As soon as Carmen saw the shine in his eye, she pulled out her knife. But just at the same time he pulled out his. The video fell to the floor. Ian’s eyes widened. The two stood and watched their bodies collapse to the floor in a heap, one on top of the other.
Blood – blood, the deepest red of reds, innocent blood and criminal blood everywhere. Blood of an innocent girl who tried to help her dead cousin mixing with the blood of the monster who killed him. Joseph had watched from where he sneaked into the house. Carmen turned to him, “I’m sorry.”


*points to story* look! i did one!
what d'you all think?

[Kalanna Rai]

Okay Tramp. First off nicely done with the horror theme. It is a bit confusing to read though. Try seperating Joseph's bit of the story from Carmen's with some dashed lines and try seperating Carmen's dream from the waking world with italics.

Also, if you read back through there are a few places where you either missed your returns or added one by mistake. After that a quick spellcheck will have this story up to essay standard easily.

The story itself is a wonderfully twisty one, although the ending seemed a bit rushed. A little more elaboration and scene setting would serve you well there especally telling us who it was that said 'I'm sorry'. The opening set it up perfectly and I think that you could probably omit the torture descriptions and have a bit more of a thriller going, good thrillers are rare these days and I like to encourage possible ones when I see them.

[Mephistopheles]

f5 rai on the separating different themes in the tale, and also that the ending seemed rushed. other than that though, bravo! a nicely written horror short. good job tramp.

[tramp in a storm]

Thank you both! :D

It's been a while since i wrote it so the ending might have been rushed... I'll work on that and the scenes and everything as soon as my exams are done :)
One question: What does 'omit' mean?

[Aponi]

"Omit" : to leave out.

The feeling of the story is very good - I care about the characters and they have distinct personalites.

Nitpicks: The story logic needs some work. If Joseph needs to communicate with his parents, and he can write Carmen a note with 5 sentences, why can't he write "Uncle Ian killed me" ? The only really necessary words in his note are "Class 14," since Carmen can recognize his handwriting. Since he affects her dreams, it may be more believable for him to send her an image of the classroom door over and over again until she has to investigate.

Overall, a careful reading-over and a few minor adjustments, and I wouldn't be surprised if you get an A. :-)

[Christalnightshade]

I think it was one of the scariest things I've read. hehe.

Ok so what will Josef do now that his cousin is attacking Ian. I think Cam should win or ells knock him out. Her parents would believe her now that she has cuts and bruses on her body. She can tell them everything. Call the cops.

Great story!

[tramp in a storm]

...She hasn't had a dream.
Quote: Then - as if it had all been a dream – everything was back to normal.

Quote: The foreboding atmosphere had not disappeared, but it remained – haunting Carmen in her dreams. ~It says she has nightmares but not necessarilly controlled by Joseph. It's just the events and the atmosphere that gave her bad dreams.
Maybe this will be more clear when I finish editing it:)

And thanks alot for the replies everyone! They're really helping :D
My characters?Having personalities? WOW!!!! *has a party* lol I think personalities is my weakest point. This must be the first time I've succeeded *dances*.

And I'm expected an overall A in English (ssshhhh I'm not suposed to know. But we're* Ninja so we found out ;) )

*We= Phang, Vamps and I
I'm expected A*. ~Phang
Shut up.:lol: