I have debated long and hard about whether or not to post this piece on my blog, but a lot of people have asked that I do so I will, maybe only for a short while. We'll see.
I took a creative writing class this semester and for Halloween we had a writing competition. I wrote a poem that won the scariest. I've never won anything in writing except for my essay in 6th grade for the D.A.R.E presentation. I don't think that one counted. So here is the first, legitimate piece that won me something. My prize was actually this nice picture frame, which was specifically chosen since this piece is about friends, it's kind of ironic honestly.
Don't Forget
"Shhh…
Can you hear it?
It’s the faint screaming
of the tortured soul.
The one that was stolen away
that night with five others.
Shh…
Can you hear it?
You wonder why it’s so
familiar sounding?
It’s your own scream
escaping from your cracked
and bleeding lips
as your body hangs
But no one else can hear you
You’re miles away from any
town
with only me to keep you
company
Shh...
We’re in this together
We’ll escape together
Do you remember how you got
here?
No? I’ll tell you.
I was there watching it all
happen
You and five of your friends
were coming
home from a weekend trip
Everything was fine until
you started telling
stories and awoke the wicked
creature
that roams the reservation
borders.
He was trapped in a corner
after his death.
His soul could not leave this world so he is
forever tormented to roam
the earth
Never to taste freedom
Only to cling to his
victim’s dying breath
as if it is his own.
Shh,,,
Let me tell you what
happened
You ran out of gas three
hours out of Tuba City
You’re kids and rather than
flag down a passing car,
which there were none,
you decided to camp out for
the night.
You naïve suckling
Late hours into the night
the six growing cold
your friend left to gather
more wood.
The five gathering in close
to steal one another’s heat
Shh…
Do you remember the sound?
The rustling?
It’s coming closer
Behind you
In front of you
Right next to you
That’s when you saw the
eyes,
The glowing, crimson blood
eyes
He’s been watching, waiting
for you to drift off
into that foolish escape you
call dreams
Dreams ha
After you see his eyes you
notice the rest of him
He’s tall, big, muscular
but his skin hangs on him
as if it’s not his own.
His fingers are boney
his fingernails short and
raw
as if he’s just scratched
his way
out of a dark hole
where they bury the
desperate lost ones.
His breathing is deep and
raspy
like he’s been breathing in
dirt
from the living tomb he
sleeps in.
It’s quick as if he’s been
running all night
but he hasn’t,
he’s only been there a few
moments
called forth by your foolish
stories of spirits.
But his hunger for release
riles his breath.
It riles his yearning
He looks at you. The curve
of your body.
The freshness of your skin.
His blood pulses in his
veins, his muscles
throbbing to touch.
To caress.
Blood drips from his eyes as
he stands there naked,
with his long, brown matted
hair
Shh…
Remember what happens next?
Remember the bitter cold air
that crawls over you,
from your toes to your
calves,
around your knees and
thighs, past your hips and stomach,
across your chest and
wrists, up your arms to your shoulders
clutching at your skin as it
grasps your face.
The hair on your body stands
on end
You don’t realize what’s
happening till it’s already done
You don’t hear your own voice
before it’s over
Watch as he creeps across
the way,
through the fire
Watch as he grabs your
friend’s leg
and begins peeling back her
skin like wrapping paper.
Shh…
you’ll soon forget the sound
of her agonized scream
You’ll soon forget the scene
that unfolded next as she bled
from every part of her body
after he ripped the skin
from her and draped it on
his shoulders.
You’ll soon forget he then
took her to a tree
and hung her from a branch.
Remember how he came back
for the others?
And for you?
How each time he pulled the
skin from their faces
their eyes met yours and
pleaded for release.
For an escape from this
demon
His eyes
His eyes
His eyes as they bled with
ejaculation cried the same plea.
His chest heaving with
ecstasy as he stole their breath
calling it his own.
Shh…
Can you see the river?
The rippling red river
underneath
their bodies as they hung
from the aching wood?
Can you see his dangling
finger
as he scratches the symbols
in the dirt beneath the tree?
Those symbols
His raw fingers
His arched back
Why didn’t you run?
Why did you stay and watch?
Shh…
It’s almost over
You should have run. But
maybe
he still would have found
you
maybe you didn’t want to
keep on living with these images
haunting you for eternity.
It’s ok, I’ll help you
forget
just like he helped me to
forget.
Shh…
Hold still as I erase those
memories
I should have sent you to
get more firewood
then you would see what he
sees,
what I see
Then you would learn to
forget
to just do as he does.
You don’t want to?
Ok then.
Hold still.
It stings at first but I’ll
be quick,
quicker than he so you won’t
feel it
for too long.
As I tear think of something
else
Think of your family and how
I know where they live.
You should have ran.
Why didn’t you?
Shh…
Can you finally hear it?
It’s you screaming."
