My Strange Stories XII

May 27th, 2011

“The clock gave its twelfth chime and Cinderella went out from the Ball, running. It was an odd scene. A lady, dressed with a deluxe dress riding a poor horse by the mud street, sprinkled with it.”

That were the first lines of the acknowledged mockery of the famous fairytale of Cinderella, Michael was writing for his Literature Class. He knew it would make laugh the assembly. He was merrily thinking on it when he fall in a deep dream

He was dreaming he was on a ball, a Masked Ball, dancing with the most beautiful girl he had ever met. He said something and she laughed. Oh, how beautiful her smile was! She was dressed like a fairy… the Queen. But suddenly, she made a worrying expression of anguish and ran away. He tried to stop her but she was quickly and could leave him behind.

Michael woke up with an idea on his mind. He took the draft he was writing and made a ball with it before bowl it. He took a new paper and began to write:

“We all know what happens with Cinderella. She has to suffer a lot, but no one ever talks about the Prince. About what he has to live, because he finds the love of his life, the perfect woman he had been looking for and she left him because a pumpkin and the clock! That’s totally unfair! I’m saying this because I have felt what Prince did. I dreamt with a woman who disappeared at the twelve o’clock and it was one of the saddest experiences of my life…”

My Strange Stories XI

May 13th, 2011

The cat was standing behind the stained glass of the church because in that time cats were considered as diabolic creatures, so they couldn’t enter or walk by many places, including churches. It was St. Michaels Church and the cat was waiting for its owner, Loise, who was set in the furnished room of Lady Margaritte, who was the principal of the respected Institute for Ladies Loise was studying on.

Loise had broken a window that was the reason she was there. She was looking by the window, gazing the horizon, searching for peace in a place, beyond the mountains. She was a lonely girl. Her unique friend was Mr. Moustache, the cat. So, when she saw Mr. Moustache will be seen –and probably killed –she didn’t care about herself and threw to the window to cover it, but she was not a lucky girl, then, she hid the cat but broke the window, and was taken to Lady Margaritte’s Office… such a great day she had!

Lady Margaritte was a beautiful woman; she was the Duchess and had refined taste. In spite of this, her office was not as comfortable as it should be. It was glare and the chairs were located in a way that made people understand they must talk straightly and quickly. Well, that was what Loise thought because she believed all the School, besides the church, was ghastly in extreme, but the reality was that the office was totally comfortable and luxury; and the school was not as bad as she thought. By the contrary, it was one of the most recognized institutions for ladies in the country, it’s just that Loise felt alone because her parents never came back and it made her stood apart of people… The unique situation she used to share with her partners was the huge fear when the clock made his continue clang.

After she received her punishment for the broken window, she went to the church to meet Mr. Mustache. After that, she went upstairs to her room and continued gazing the horizon.

My Strange Stories X

(Basado en The Masque of the Red Death de Edgar Allan Poe)

April 10th, 2011

My dear friend,

You are not going to believe this. I can’t although I saw it all with my own eyes! My dear, Prince Prospero is dead. Lord Wilghbur is dead, Carlotta is dead… everybody is dead! Do you remember I told you, there was a disease killing the people? The red death found us although we hid from her per six months! Oh, that’s so frightening!

Prince Prospero invited us –the nobility, indeed –to his abbey to hide from the illness and to entertain us, he offered a Masked ball. “Oh my God that is a splendid idea!” we all thought. I prepared my costume. I went to the Ball dressed like Cleopatra and made a beautiful masque. When I arrived to the suite I noticed it was formed by seven rooms. Each room was decorated with one specific color of walls, tapestries and stained glasses. The first one was blue, the second was purple, the third was green, the fourth was orange, the fifth was white, the sixth was violet and the seventh, oh my God! The seventh was black with scarlet stained glass! The death color! I didn’t have the courage enough to remain in the seventh room because of the atmosphere and bad feelings it produced me. The light, the fire of the braziers outside, each room went through the stained glasses and reflected the color of the glass over the people and the walls and it was a magical beauty effect excepting the seventh room because when the light went through the red stained glass you saw the people dancing happily, covered in blood. Lord Whilmood said to me, “Indeed, Madam. You are a superstitious woman!” but I didn’t pay attention to him and went out of there to the white room. I danced there two songs more the magnificent orchestra played but I still felt horrified, so, I went to the bathroom to calm myself when I heard one, two, three morbid clangs of that ebony clock. And the clangs continued. I couldn’t dare it! I knew there will be nine chimes more because it was twelve o’clock. I don’t know but that morbid clangs made me feel I must run away of there. So, guided by the most ghastly feeling I went out of the suite and run away to my room…

I reached my room when the twelfth clang sounded. And I heard the music stopped and there was silence where had had place happy music before. I knew the right thing was made by me. There was a lapse of silence, but then there were shouts and jells that sounded like an echo everywhere! That was horrifying! I couldn’t do anything! I just hid. Lord Whilmood told me I was superstitious but now he’s dead and I am not…

When everything returned to silence it was four o’clock I knew it because of that diabolic clock. I gathered together all my braveness and went downstairs to the suite and walked by the blue and purple rooms. Everybody was dead! I didn’t keep walking because I knew how the other rooms will be, full of corpses… I reached to see from the distance Prince Prospero dead and the seventh room was now completely red. The red of blood… that was no doubt it was fault of Red Death. All corpses I reached to see –unfortunately –had his bloody mark.

I never approved what Prince Prospero did –leaving his people to die –but I really appreciated he for inviting me to hide from Red Death. And now I thank God for giving me the chance to escape…

With my strongest affect,

Your friend

Lady Elizabeth M.

My Strange Stories IX

April 22nd, 2011

Amelie, with her blushed cheeks and her delirious mind was ripening to womanhood, but if something was true it was that she dreaded it.

Amelie stretched his body to look through the window for being sure there was no one on the room, and once she had assured of it, she broke into the room and earnestly began to search her vignette. She had to know if the work of the painter was perfect and the instructions she had gave him were meekly taken in consideration.

“The former portrait was terrible”, she thought. That was the excuse she invented for convincing herself her actions were right.

Over the wooden table there was a gilded frame sumptuously set, waiting for being placed on the vignette. And she, led by her curiosity, touched slightly all the frame with here index finger.

What a terrified expression she spread by her face when she saw in the door the austere glance the painter had! She stood suddenly pinned and quickly –there were not necessary words of the painter –left the room. It seemed like being a situation when a person with a horrifying look says, “you must go away” and the other person –Amelie, in this case –answers, “Indeed!” with her acts.

My Strange Stories VIII

April 15th, 2011

By the smooth ramp the deceased was falling in his marine entomb, instead of his normal funeral. On the ship the young boy was gazing the harsh scene with awe. Would that be his destiny? He knew he couldn’t do anything else than gave in and stop struggling. He must obey and seem like a harmless adolescent –an emaciated one –if he wanted to avoid that horrid hollow called Dungeon.

The captain greeted the young man and expressed his condolences with a typical marine phrase: “the sea is our Lord. It’s the one which decides to let us arrive to the safe shore.”

The captain got aware his words, although wise, hadn’t had a good effect on the boy, therefore, decided to leave him alone with his thoughts and the sea. But before leaving him he said, “The unique reason you had to be here is dead. The ship arrives to the shelter in a fortnight, then, you could mold your destiny. The child has died with his father today, you’re a man now. But remember, during this fortnight you’re on my ship, and I don’t allow lazy man on my boat.” And then, he left the now-young-man.

Now the boy was alone in the world. “What would I do?” asked to the near whirlwind, and with his acute senses he heard the answer –a useless one –what kind of “look into your heart” answer was it? It didn’t bring him any kind of relief. It just let him gasp of thinking all possibilities he had.

“What shall I do?” –he asked to the clouds –“What must I do?” –asked to the waves –“What do I want to do?” –asked to his heart…

My Strange Stories VII

April 1st, 2011

The lady was thinking in a dull, dreary landscape while she was remembering all the things she wanted to forget. The rough words he said, the iciness with which he fill the conversation they had.

“He arranged all the things” –she thought – “I just fall in his tramp” –He left her down in a malady she would never get over. Her mind was traveling by a bleak space, which her memories called home. It was like an archway, a narrow one that was illuminated by a feeble light.

The lady rattled with herself for hours, hesitating about everything and nothing at the same time making a carving of his pain, a mental carving.

She imagined herself like a tattered peasantry, without dreams or illusions. But she knew well that peasantries had dreams, she just didn’t find a better metaphor.

She was tired to death of everything, of nothing. She thought she would never be able to leave that bleak place… until she opened her eyes and awoke.

My Strange Stories VI

September 10th, 2010

The cat struggle with the mouse scornfully. Meanwhile, Christopher was wrapping with a cord the hands of the prisoner.

– Lead me to your boss! –said Christopher

– Never!

– I was waiting you to say that. –ended with an ironic smile

And suddenly he began to torture him. The cat kept struggling with the mouse until he ripped it. And the room got involved in silence. Well, with a few painful shouts…

My Strange Stories V

August 13th, 2010

The man was dozing in the canoe, waiting to arrive to the landing place. He needed to lay awake but he couldn’t. The graze was bleeding and it caused him nauseas.

Perhaps if he wouldn’t drank so much his condition will be better. Maybe if he would respect the other’s wife he will be healthy. Maybe.

– He was trying to die –people said – Otherwise he couldn’t do what he did. And, surprisingly, they were right. He was not upset, he was not sad, he wasn’t depressed. He just wanted to die. Why? Because he was tired of everything and wanted something better. And what is better than arriving to other world? That was the only reason for his dares.

And, fast, he will fulfill his wishes. The landing place was ever further of his eyes.

My Strange Stories IV

August 6th, 2010

The man and the young lady trotted as fast as their horses could. The man mumbled to Alice to be careful and to expect some future ambush.

The gallop and the speed of the escape made Alice plunged of the horse and hurt her leg with a stone. For a moment she thought she will be desert by him because the horse run away, but Christopher was a brought up man. He stopped and returned for her, although guards were behind them. Using a strong pole she could stand up and gripped the hand Christopher offered to her.

Guards took aim to them but he was faster and the shout killed a near deer. A beautiful and dangerous red blaze refulged through the trees when a fire’s arrow was threw as a last desperated guards attempt of catching them, but they escaped, and now they are far, far away.