Export thread
Still Waters - A spooky tale of pain and loss.
#1
LordRavage
LordRavage
I have been writing some spooky tales for the weeks leading up to Halloween. This one has been my favorite. All thoughts are welcome.
Still Waters
By Julian Ravage
Anna stared out across the cold lake. Her eyes would wander from the smooth lake surface to the leafless trees in the distance. A cold wind whipped at her as she let out a deep, frosty breath. Her white dress was stained from walking across the field. Brown and green patches laced the bottom of her dress as dirt caked on her white shoes.
Tears rolled down her smooth skin. The pain in her heart pulsed with each sigh. She slipped out of her white; mud caked shoes and stood at the very edge of the calm lake. Cold water lapped at her toes.
Anna looked away but no matter where she turned, the deep pain danced across her soul. She opened her mouth to cry out but no sound would rise. The pain continued to slither around her heart like a venomous snake. She looked skyward and thought “Why?”
There was no answer. There never is an answer.
Troubled fits of breathing would pounce on her lungs. She took one step into the cold, dark water. More fits would assault her as she took another long step into the lake. Pain drove its claws into Anna as sorrow moved her one step at a time into the lake. Each feeling was a dance partner in this ballet of sadness.
Faces swirled through her mind as every step brought the lake to her thighs, her waist, her chest and then her neck. Anna swam out into the cold body of water. Numb from the pain and cold, for a moment she felt free. Her tears mixed with the lake water like some divine painting.
Her freedom was short lived as the numbness gave way and terrible pain flooded her mind’s eye and heart’s pulse. Her face dipped into the water as she tried to wash away her tears, her long white dress flowing behind her. A crow squawked in the distance.
Anna’s arms and legs moved with a gentle rhythm. She used just enough energy to swim out toward the center of the lake. Her pain filled eyes catching glimpses of floating branches, leaves and ghosts from her past. The warmth from her body trailed away into the gloom as tendrils of cold caressed her.
The black dagger in her heart began to twist. Anna’s hands stopped moving. Her legs became still. She drifted like so many dead leaves in the autumn weather. Spaces of time passed and she was as still as the lake around her.
Then Anna’s body began to sink. Her white dress flowing around her body as the lake slowly began to claim her. She could sense death knocking in the distance. She could feel gentle ghosts tapping at her, trying to merge their sorrow with hers. It would play out so beautifully if she was not blinded by her sad pain. Bubbles rose from her mouth as she took one last look upward into the fading light.
In the gloom and darkness, Anna saw a strip of white with her dying eyes. On the bottom, mixed with many swaying lake plants, lay a woman in a white dress. Anna felt nothing as she drifted closer to the woman facing down into the dark green lake floor. It all became part of her as she drew closer to the woman. Like a gentle blanket cast out into the water, Anna settled on the woman in the white dress.
Anna had no concept of time anymore. She knew it was her own body she was staring at. She couldn’t bring her self to understand, she had been dead for eighteen hours. The cold lake preserved her well. Anna lay with her dead body at the bottom of the watery depths. She caressed her face and cried. Pain ate at her heart like a worm in an apple. Death could still be heard in the distance, knocking, forever knocking.
~Fin~
Julian Ravage
Still Waters
By Julian Ravage
Anna stared out across the cold lake. Her eyes would wander from the smooth lake surface to the leafless trees in the distance. A cold wind whipped at her as she let out a deep, frosty breath. Her white dress was stained from walking across the field. Brown and green patches laced the bottom of her dress as dirt caked on her white shoes.
Tears rolled down her smooth skin. The pain in her heart pulsed with each sigh. She slipped out of her white; mud caked shoes and stood at the very edge of the calm lake. Cold water lapped at her toes.
Anna looked away but no matter where she turned, the deep pain danced across her soul. She opened her mouth to cry out but no sound would rise. The pain continued to slither around her heart like a venomous snake. She looked skyward and thought “Why?”
There was no answer. There never is an answer.
Troubled fits of breathing would pounce on her lungs. She took one step into the cold, dark water. More fits would assault her as she took another long step into the lake. Pain drove its claws into Anna as sorrow moved her one step at a time into the lake. Each feeling was a dance partner in this ballet of sadness.
Faces swirled through her mind as every step brought the lake to her thighs, her waist, her chest and then her neck. Anna swam out into the cold body of water. Numb from the pain and cold, for a moment she felt free. Her tears mixed with the lake water like some divine painting.
Her freedom was short lived as the numbness gave way and terrible pain flooded her mind’s eye and heart’s pulse. Her face dipped into the water as she tried to wash away her tears, her long white dress flowing behind her. A crow squawked in the distance.
Anna’s arms and legs moved with a gentle rhythm. She used just enough energy to swim out toward the center of the lake. Her pain filled eyes catching glimpses of floating branches, leaves and ghosts from her past. The warmth from her body trailed away into the gloom as tendrils of cold caressed her.
The black dagger in her heart began to twist. Anna’s hands stopped moving. Her legs became still. She drifted like so many dead leaves in the autumn weather. Spaces of time passed and she was as still as the lake around her.
Then Anna’s body began to sink. Her white dress flowing around her body as the lake slowly began to claim her. She could sense death knocking in the distance. She could feel gentle ghosts tapping at her, trying to merge their sorrow with hers. It would play out so beautifully if she was not blinded by her sad pain. Bubbles rose from her mouth as she took one last look upward into the fading light.
In the gloom and darkness, Anna saw a strip of white with her dying eyes. On the bottom, mixed with many swaying lake plants, lay a woman in a white dress. Anna felt nothing as she drifted closer to the woman facing down into the dark green lake floor. It all became part of her as she drew closer to the woman. Like a gentle blanket cast out into the water, Anna settled on the woman in the white dress.
Anna had no concept of time anymore. She knew it was her own body she was staring at. She couldn’t bring her self to understand, she had been dead for eighteen hours. The cold lake preserved her well. Anna lay with her dead body at the bottom of the watery depths. She caressed her face and cried. Pain ate at her heart like a worm in an apple. Death could still be heard in the distance, knocking, forever knocking.
~Fin~
Julian Ravage
#2
Element 117
Element 117
I have many nit picks, but I'll restrain myself to one: You use "cold" far too often to function as rhythmic repetition.
#3
LordRavage
Looking at it, I do tend to use the word "cold" a bit much. I'm sure with a quick edit, the writing can be a bit tighter.
Many thanks for your input.
LordRavage
I welcome all nit picks Amy. Its one of the many ways I try to correct and better my writing. The one thing I cant stand is when people hold back. My ego is not that fragile. I may not change anything in this story, but it keeps things in mind when I write my next ones.I have many nit picks, but I'll restrain myself to one: You use "cold" far too often to function as rhythmic repetition.
Looking at it, I do tend to use the word "cold" a bit much. I'm sure with a quick edit, the writing can be a bit tighter.
Many thanks for your input.
#4
Element 117
Element 117
hyper nitpicky version follows. Strikeouts for redundancies, cliches, telling versus "showing" sins, and logical errors (She had no concept of time, she had been dead for 18 hours.) etc. Bold are word changes.
Anna stared out across the cold lake. Her eyes would wander from the smooth lake surface to the leafless trees in the distance. [STRIKE]A cold [/STRIKE]Wind whipped at her as she let out a deep, frosty breath. Her white dress was stained from walking across the field[STRIKE]. Brown and green patches laced the bottom of her dress as [/STRIKE]dirt caked on her white shoes.
Tears rolled down her [STRIKE]smooth[/STRIKE] skin. [STRIKE]The pain in her heart pulsed with each sigh[/STRIKE]. She slipped out of her white, mud caked shoes and stood at the [STRIKE]very[/STRIKE] edge of the[STRIKE] calm [/STRIKE]lake. Cold water lapped at her toes.
[STRIKE]Anna looked away but no matter where she turned, the deep pain danced across her soul.[/STRIKE] She opened her mouth to cry out but no sound would rise. The pain continued to slither around her heart like a venomous snake. She looked skyward and thought “Why?”
There was no answer. There never was an answer.
[STRIKE]Troubled fits of breathing would pounce on her lungs[/STRIKE]. She took one step into the freezing water.[STRIKE] More fits would assault her as she took another long step into the lake.[/STRIKE] Pain drove its claws into Anna [STRIKE]as sorrow moved her[/STRIKE] one step at a time into the lake. [STRIKE]Each feeling was a dance partner in this ballet of sadness.[/STRIKE]
Faces swirled through her mind as more steps brought the lake to her thighs, her waist, her chest and then her neck. Anna swam out into the icy water. Numb from the [STRIKE]pain and[/STRIKE] cold, for a moment she felt free. Her tears mixed with the lake water [STRIKE]like some divine painting.[/STRIKE]
Her freedom was short lived as the numbness gave way and terrible pain flooded her body. Her face dipped into the water as she tried to wash away her tears, her long white dress flowing behind her. A crow squawked in the distance.
[STRIKE]Anna’s arms and legs moved with a gentle rhythm[/STRIKE]. She used all her energy just to swim out to the center of the lake. She caught glimpses of floating branches, leaves[STRIKE] and ghosts from her past[/STRIKE]. The warmth from her body fled into the gloom as tendrils of cold gripped her.
The icy dagger in her heart began to twist. Anna’s hands stopped moving. Her legs stilled. She drifted like [STRIKE]so many [/STRIKE]dead leaves in the autumn wind. [STRIKE]Spaces of [/STRIKE]time passed and she was as still as the lake around her.
Then she began to sink. Her white dress flowed around her body as the lake slowly began to claim her. [STRIKE]She could sense death knocking in the distance.[/STRIKE] She could feel gentle ghosts tapping at her, trying to merge their sorrow with hers. It would play out so beautifully [STRIKE]if she was not blinded by her sad pai[/STRIKE]. Bubbles rose from her mouth as she took one last look upward [STRIKE]into the fading light.[/STRIKE]
In the gloom and darkness, Anna saw a strip of white [STRIKE] with her dying eyes.[/STRIKE] On the bottom, among swaying lake plants, lay a woman in a white dress. Anna felt nothing as she drifted closer to the woman facing down into the dark [STRIKE]green[/STRIKE] lake floor. [STRIKE]It all became part of her as she drew closer to the woman.[/STRIKE] Like a gentle blanket cast out into the water, Anna settled on the woman in the white dress.
Anna had no concept of time anymore*. She knew it was her own body she was staring at. She couldn’t bring her self to understand, [STRIKE]she had been dead for eighteen hours. [/STRIKE]* The cold lake preserved her. Anna lay with her dead body at the bottom of the watery depths. She caressed her face and cried.[STRIKE] Pain ate at her heart like a worm in an apple. Death could still be heard in the distance, knocking, forever knocking.[/STRIKE]
Tears rolled down her [STRIKE]smooth[/STRIKE] skin. [STRIKE]The pain in her heart pulsed with each sigh[/STRIKE]. She slipped out of her white, mud caked shoes and stood at the [STRIKE]very[/STRIKE] edge of the[STRIKE] calm [/STRIKE]lake. Cold water lapped at her toes.
[STRIKE]Anna looked away but no matter where she turned, the deep pain danced across her soul.[/STRIKE] She opened her mouth to cry out but no sound would rise. The pain continued to slither around her heart like a venomous snake. She looked skyward and thought “Why?”
There was no answer. There never was an answer.
[STRIKE]Troubled fits of breathing would pounce on her lungs[/STRIKE]. She took one step into the freezing water.[STRIKE] More fits would assault her as she took another long step into the lake.[/STRIKE] Pain drove its claws into Anna [STRIKE]as sorrow moved her[/STRIKE] one step at a time into the lake. [STRIKE]Each feeling was a dance partner in this ballet of sadness.[/STRIKE]
Faces swirled through her mind as more steps brought the lake to her thighs, her waist, her chest and then her neck. Anna swam out into the icy water. Numb from the [STRIKE]pain and[/STRIKE] cold, for a moment she felt free. Her tears mixed with the lake water [STRIKE]like some divine painting.[/STRIKE]
Her freedom was short lived as the numbness gave way and terrible pain flooded her body. Her face dipped into the water as she tried to wash away her tears, her long white dress flowing behind her. A crow squawked in the distance.
[STRIKE]Anna’s arms and legs moved with a gentle rhythm[/STRIKE]. She used all her energy just to swim out to the center of the lake. She caught glimpses of floating branches, leaves[STRIKE] and ghosts from her past[/STRIKE]. The warmth from her body fled into the gloom as tendrils of cold gripped her.
The icy dagger in her heart began to twist. Anna’s hands stopped moving. Her legs stilled. She drifted like [STRIKE]so many [/STRIKE]dead leaves in the autumn wind. [STRIKE]Spaces of [/STRIKE]time passed and she was as still as the lake around her.
Then she began to sink. Her white dress flowed around her body as the lake slowly began to claim her. [STRIKE]She could sense death knocking in the distance.[/STRIKE] She could feel gentle ghosts tapping at her, trying to merge their sorrow with hers. It would play out so beautifully [STRIKE]if she was not blinded by her sad pai[/STRIKE]. Bubbles rose from her mouth as she took one last look upward [STRIKE]into the fading light.[/STRIKE]
In the gloom and darkness, Anna saw a strip of white [STRIKE] with her dying eyes.[/STRIKE] On the bottom, among swaying lake plants, lay a woman in a white dress. Anna felt nothing as she drifted closer to the woman facing down into the dark [STRIKE]green[/STRIKE] lake floor. [STRIKE]It all became part of her as she drew closer to the woman.[/STRIKE] Like a gentle blanket cast out into the water, Anna settled on the woman in the white dress.
Anna had no concept of time anymore*. She knew it was her own body she was staring at. She couldn’t bring her self to understand, [STRIKE]she had been dead for eighteen hours. [/STRIKE]* The cold lake preserved her. Anna lay with her dead body at the bottom of the watery depths. She caressed her face and cried.[STRIKE] Pain ate at her heart like a worm in an apple. Death could still be heard in the distance, knocking, forever knocking.[/STRIKE]
#5
LordRavage
LordRavage
Now you have done it. I may have to pass all my writing through you from now on. 
I disagree on some of the more poetic parts but I see where you are coming from. Believe me, your help only strengthens my resolve.
I disagree on some of the more poetic parts but I see where you are coming from. Believe me, your help only strengthens my resolve.
#6
Element 117
Element 117
What you consider "more poetic" the older more cynical reader sees as "oh, he wants us to know SHES REALLY IN SAD PAIN NO REALLY, REALLY RAAURGH!" that comes out as rather..... often done before.
TELLING.
She stared at the funeral wreath, full of white lilies. She remembered Daddy’s garden, thriving with lush red roses and golden daffodils.
= bad.
SHOWING
The cloying scent of the funeral wreath made her stomach heave and her throat gag. Daddy would have hated it. Lilies had had no place in his garden among the more stately roses and cheerful daffodils.
It figures that the worst wreath would come from Barnaby Jenkins, the slime. And she was stuck holding it for the next hour.
= good, because it lets the reader set up the scene and become emotional through their own process, not "Heroine is sad, feel bad for her," but rather, "She lost her family, her friends and her daughter in a fire, but she always smiled and kept her mood up in front of us, even though I could often her her crying at night. "
TELLING.
She stared at the funeral wreath, full of white lilies. She remembered Daddy’s garden, thriving with lush red roses and golden daffodils.
= bad.
SHOWING
The cloying scent of the funeral wreath made her stomach heave and her throat gag. Daddy would have hated it. Lilies had had no place in his garden among the more stately roses and cheerful daffodils.
It figures that the worst wreath would come from Barnaby Jenkins, the slime. And she was stuck holding it for the next hour.
= good, because it lets the reader set up the scene and become emotional through their own process, not "Heroine is sad, feel bad for her," but rather, "She lost her family, her friends and her daughter in a fire, but she always smiled and kept her mood up in front of us, even though I could often her her crying at night. "