January 5, 2017
By Adrine SILVER, Wyckoff, New Jersey
Adrine SILVER, Wyckoff, New Jersey
8 articles 0 photos 0 comments

Simple and polished hands grasped firmly around a flower. A scarlet flower. A fifteen petal piece of art. A rose. A simple gorgeous rose, that fills the dark inside the household. She walks silently. Step after step. Not even the shadow surrounding her could mesmerize her attention away from the rose. Footsteps, creeks, breaks, tears, yet nothing does the trick. As the clock ticks around her, she begins to hear things. But nothing to takes her away. Nothing matters.  
Her heels click through the foyer, the walls speak to her. She answers back with a heartwarming song. An elegant melody that rings and tickles the top of her lip. Still, a growl tails her very movements, everywhere. She can not escape the constant rumble that shakes the walls. But it does not bother her. Winds cry outside. The moon becomes her only gleam of light to guide her strides. The walls give out shadowy human like figures. Howls in the night. Screeches from the outside. But the very walls protecting her, don’t allow a single thing in or a single thing out.
The flower remains in her hand, now with thirteen petals. Her laugh occupies the mansion. She paces up the stairs with the same speed. The millions and millions of stairs. She finally reaches the top. Her mind grows curious and more curious  about her location, not understanding where she is or why she is there. The hallways seem endless. Each one the same as the last. Doors. Countless doors. But none are open. No sound creeps from any of them. As everything around her sleeps quiet in the night, she walks with such grace. Strands of her hair glow in the streaks left by the moonlight. Her eyes sparkle from the highlights of the stars. The violet dress draped around her leaves a trail of shimmer on the grand carpet. Her shoes sound like a rainstorm, and fill the castle with music.
The rose still seized in her fingers, eleven petals remain. Clap! Thunder strikes and the candles blow out. The flashes of lightning do nothing but glisten upon her face. Her pace quickens. Her spine quivers in fear while trying to find the only warmth near. As her endless dash comes to a dead end an illumination peers around the corner from a single door. Her eyes clutch onto the flames of the fire’s luminescence. Her arm slightly pushed the door to a 90 degree angle. Peaceful and calming. She is drawn to the flame. As if a string is pulling her closer and closer. Her footsteps lighten with each stride. Her body falls onto the pillow that awaits her. Her head rests. Her eyes fall to sleep. The rose lays on her fingertips just as she does on the pillow.
She awakens. Time acts as if it has stood still. The clocks around her, about two on each side of her, read different times. Not knowing which one to believe, she stays seated continuing to glare at the fire. It warms her from the once cold she felt on her arms. Goosebumps still arise from her arms. Instantly, the flame diminishes. The chill that once consumed her, returns. An enchanting bellow travels to her ears from below. The two petals on the floor enclose her. Nine petals remain. Each petal becomes more valuable to the touch of her hand. She hurries to the staircase to peek over the railings. There is nothing in sight but a single shadow.
Gravity pulls her down the mountainous staircase. Hushed footsteps crawl closer to the twilight. Two more petals leave a trail behind her. Seven petals remain on the flower. Her shadow merged with the other into one monstrous silhouette. The figure remains a mystery. But the same bark continues to engages her. Finally, there is no more shadow. A creek in the floorboard rattles.
Then. A horrifying face that does not belong to any other terror know before reveals itself. Frozen in place. She can not move. She can not speak. She can not even hear the sound of her own thought and two more petals leave the stem, like the color from her face. Five petals remain. Covered in fear like a blanket on a cold winter night, her hand opens wide. The flower descends the room. Quickly dropping, yet seen in slow motion. When the rose strikes the floor, two more petal flee and a roar shatters the windows. Angered by her sight in his domain, the scratches of the demon are marked on her chest. Her body drops. One petal is left. She is left alone for the first time that night. No more worries. No more strange noises. Just one petal, one girl, one final breath. The humble starlights emerge in perfect harmony once again from the damaged window. 
Her breaths shorten. Her eyes peacefully drift away. The last petal falls and the moon is put to sleep. Sunlight appears. Daylight has arrived. But nothing makes a sound.

The author's comments:

My piece is a twist on the story Beauty and the Beast. It is a story that keeps you thinking and wondering what's giong to happen next. It is a mystery that happens in the dark and contratsts to the light. 

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This article has 1 comment.

on Jan. 13 2017 at 10:32 am
TheEvergreen GOLD, Birmingham, Alabama
11 articles 1 photo 64 comments

Favorite Quote:
"Never laugh at live dragons." -JRR Tolkien

I really like this spin-off of beauty and the beast! But I do have one critique; I think that some of the descriptive words you used were a little out of place, or a bit unnecessary. Besides that, this short story is absolutely stunning!

Parkland Book