Monday, October 1, 2012


He sat outside of her open window, staring at her beautiful face, her long silky hair. Unknown to her was the danger that awaited her, breathing her name on his lips. Alyssa... it called.


She walked along the desolate street, her heart torn in pieces. Owls called to her in the otherwise quiet of night, breathing her name, tormenting her with their shadows.


     The night was cold and grey. Through the walls, Sienna Warfield could hear the rythmic swaying of the trees and could see the wind wrestling with their branches. She pulled the afghan up to her neck and resumed reading the Stephen King novel she had randomly chosen off of the bookcase. The fire crackled in it's home beneath the mantle and sent a rush of warm air toward Sienna's comfy recliner. As she got a couple of sentences into the chapter a shrill ringing sounded throughout the house, bringing her attention to the telephone. She jumped up and sprang into the kitchen, where she picked up the receiver.
     "Hello?" she asked, wondering who would be calling at this time of night.
     Nothing. A person's raspy breathing was all she could hear.
     "Hello?" she said again, a note of panic entering her voice.
     Normally Sienna wouldn't get worked up over a phone call, but it was too dark and she was home alone.
     She threw down the receiver and ran back to her comfy spot, picking up the book. Not able to actually read the words, her eyes focused on a small spot in the middle of the page. That's when she heard the sound. A sound that made a chill run up and down her spine and her hair stand on end. It was a slight clicking... scratching, even. It continued for a minute and then stopped, only to start again seconds later.
     Sienna stood up. She began walking slowly toward the window feeling as if she was in a home movie and the audience was screaming, "No, stop! Don't go in there!" But curiosity kept her legs moving, step after fatal step. She unlocked the window and felt herself pulling it up inch by inch. It was too late by the time she noticed the screen was missing. A gloved hand reached up and grabbed her head, pulling it down until it was outside all the way. A glint of metal shown in the moonlight as the killer drew back his hand. She tried to scream but it was cut off by the slash of a knife across her throat.
     Sienna woke up screaming, having fallen asleep in her chair. As she looked across the room at the window, a scratching started....

This was written for my sophomore creative writing class back in 1995.

WRITING: start of a story

I was floating through an open field. The breeze gently wrestled with the tips of my shoulder length hair and a pleasant smell drifted up to me as I made my way across the rainbow of wild flowers. Suddenly, the sky turned black with anger and a flash of lightning was followed by a crack of thunder in the distance.

I sat up in bed as I awoke from my dream, a bird's singsong voice wafted up to me through my open second-story window as I stepped onto the plush burgundy carpet. My feet made little thuds as I galloped down the steep stairway with the expectation of breakfast growling in my stomach. But the familiar smell of eggs and bacon frying weren't noticeable as usual and the house was incredibly quiet. As I stepped into the kitchen, a feeling of fear fell through me, pooling in the center of my abdomen. Where were my parents? I looked at the refrigerator hoping to find a note explaining my their absence. None was there. I turned back the way I'd come and entered my parents bedroom. I'll never forget what I saw. My father, at first glance, looked to be sleeping, but as I approached his unmoving body I realized he wasn't breathing. I almost tripped trying to back away. That's when I noticed their bathroom door. It was open and spotted with blood. I didn't want to look inside, hoping with all hope that my mother was somehow still alive, but as I passed through the door, her lifeless eyes stared up at me.

This is the beginning of a story I never finished...