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September Sight Challenge, ends on September 30
| KalElesphyl |
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Administrator
Group: Administrator
Posts: 232
Member No.: 1
Joined: 13-July 09
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SEPTEMBER SIGHT CHALLENGEA murder has just been committed, and an old woman, from her bedroom window, saw it all. Who was the murderer? Who was the victim? What relationship does she imagine they were in? Does she feel witness's guilt, or, perhaps, survivor's guilt? Do not mention sound nor smell.
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| violet |
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Advanced Member
Group: Spotted
Posts: 66
Member No.: 8
Joined: 20-July 09
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I assumed that we could describe the actual murder.  | QUOTE | | It is dark. That is all she sees at first. A single streetlight provides illumination, but very little. She thinks the moving shadows are tree branches shifting in the wind, but then she looks closer, peering through the glass. The movements are too swift, no, it is not the trees nor the wind, but people. Two people, arms flailing wildly at one another. There is a flash of white as a shoe - a trainer of some sort - connects with flesh. She imagines the blood, the bruising, the physical contact of violence. Then there is nothing. No movement. Her eyes are adjusting to the darkness. She sees a figure lying on the street. She sees another hovering, stepping back, raising his face to the window where she watches. His eyes - unseen - boring into hers, knowing what she has seen, what role she could play in his own demise. Her mind sees what the eyes cannot. Pain and anger and betrayal and fury. And then he is gone. Like nothing ever happened at all. |
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| RonsGirlFriday |
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Advanced Member
Group: Spotted
Posts: 35
Member No.: 35
Joined: 23-August 09
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| QUOTE | | That streetlight is the only one on this block that works. The city doesn’t care to fix it, so it flickers erratically, threatening to drown the neighborhood in blackness. It casts a sickly yellow light that doesn’t illuminate much outside a five-foot radius. It’s enough, though. When she looks out her window, at exactly the wrong time, that decrepit light is strong enough to cast two shadows. One man and one woman – or an effeminate man. It doesn’t matter much, because it is no longer man nor woman…it is a body. A corpse. A cadaver. Carrion to feed the morning news. She draws the tattered floral curtain, which is just thick enough to block out the yellow light. In this city, if you pretend you didn’t see it, then you didn’t see it at all. |
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| blackisback |
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Member
Group: Clean
Posts: 16
Member No.: 45
Joined: 30-August 09
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| QUOTE | The lights wake her up. She sits up in bed to look out the window. A car, headlights on, is parked near her house, lights pointed at the trunk of another. It's the only light for miles--one of the effects of living in the country. Two men- at least, she imagines they must be men- are pulling something out of the trunk. The woman strains her old eyes trying to make out what the men's bundle is. The bundle moves, and the woman realizes it is a person. Her eyes widen as she swings her legs over the edge of the bed- slowly, very slowly, because of her hip. She has read enough mystery novels to know what is taking place outside her window, and what she has to do. For once, she is glad her son insisted she keep the phone on her nightstand. She sees the metallic glint of a knife in one man's hand as she lifts the receiver, sees him hold the weapon over the bundle from the trunk, imagines she feels the victim's terror. The knife flashes in the glare of the headlights as the man stabs down. Her old eyes see the victim convulse as she turns to dial the phone, and she knows the bundle will not struggle any more. She dials the phone with shaking hands.
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My first attempt at one of these... I hope it's as good as I think it is.  .::blackisback::. |
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| ailhsa |
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Advanced Member
Group: Clean
Posts: 33
Member No.: 18
Joined: 20-August 09
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| QUOTE | | It was one of those bleak mornings as I stood by my window, reeling in the clothes line so that I could put up my washing. I happened to glance down into the street where two young men were arguing. They didn’t seem out of the ordinary to me, in their button-downs and jeans with neat hair-cuts but in my curiosity, I put down my clothes basket to watch them. They began to push each other, one shove there another forceful one there, until suddenly, the shorter one fell and hit his head against the conveniently placed fire hydrant. I flinched as I saw the blood gushing from his head, staining the grey sidewalk with red. I couldn’t get over how his motionless form lay, his feet awkwardly jutting out into the street while his head drooped to one side. In an instant, I stood there as motionless as the body in the street, never seeing the other man run off and only stirring as the blinking siren approached. |
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| ridan |
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Member
Group: Spotted
Posts: 22
Member No.: 51
Joined: 2-September 09
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| QUOTE | | The darkness is all encompassing, almost suffocating. The bare traces of light which filter into the room cause shadows to race about the room, grim parodies of the terrors lurking in the corner of my mind. The wind howls terribly, a cry of horror, and rain knocks at my window, drops trickling speedily down the glass. I start as a flash of lightning illuminates the room and once over my surprise I reach for the light, turning it on to ease the fear constricting my breast. The night bodes ill and I shuffle my aching limbs slowly towards the window, pressing my nose against the cool glass. Despite my inability to see past the rain pelting against the window, my eyes open wide as the a horrific visage appears before me. Blood, streaming in rivulets from her neck, sliding ever so slowly down her body and slithering away cunningly once free upon the ground. A knife, gleaming wickedly in the moonlight, stabbing again and again, over and over. A wicked, yet somewhat bitter laugh echoing cruelly against its stone surroundings, the sheer horror of it causing the walls themselves to shudder. I force my eyes shut, my breath coming in heaving gasps. It does nothing to stop me seeing the images as they dance upon my eyelids and flash violently inside my head, nothing at all to ease my pain, my cursed thoughts caused by my cursed physical limits, my inability to help the poor young girl. I see the dark, congealing blood coating my hands, dripping maliciously onto the floor. A stain which will remain for evermore. |
This post has been edited by ridan on Sep 3 2009, 12:30 PM
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| .fadingspork |
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Newbie
Group: Clean
Posts: 8
Member No.: 53
Joined: 3-September 09
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A flash of lightning-- a brief respite of glorious light in the suffocating darkness of a stormy midnight. You look up from your book, and something catches your eye in the window opposite. You move closer, scrunch your eyes and look. Through the glass panels and between the lace curtains, you see a girl-- a girl cowering before a middle-aged woman. You see the spasm of anger pass through the woman's face, before she strikes the girl... and the girl strikes the floor. I solemnly swear that I read ridan's drabble only after writing mine, the description of the darkness as suffocating is purely coincidental.
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| Deni |
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Newbie
Group: Clean
Posts: 5
Member No.: 61
Joined: 6-September 09
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| QUOTE | | The flashes of lightning were what awoke me from my peaceful sleep. My eyes twitched with annoyance, though fondness comes through as well. Storm's are my favourite things. I sleepily get up and slump slowly toward my window, holding my back as I do. I stare contently at the storm until a disturbance below catches my eye. I glance down and see a man overpowering a woman in the rain; she was as good as on the ground, cowering in fear and despair. I watched, horrified, as she reached down and wrapped his fingers around her throat, squeezing with all of his strength. The spluttered and kicked, weakly attempting to ward the man off, but he paid no heed to her. In a matter of minutes, she was dead, gone from the world, her eyes closing at the same time as a flash of lightning. I could see my own heart beating hardly against my chest as the man bent down and took something - I believe it was a ring - off the womans left hand. So, they were married. I watched the man drag her into the dumpster across the street, and depart in a Black Mercedes. Out of the corner of my eyes, through my blurred, tear-filled vision, not once did I see my heart slow down from its frantic spasm of terror, fear and plain horror. |
Ack, this is my first ever one, so don't kill me. Sorry if I did something wrong!
This post has been edited by Deni on Sep 8 2009, 12:16 PM
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| SilverMoonFairy |
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Newbie
Group: Clean
Posts: 5
Member No.: 43
Joined: 27-August 09
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| QUOTE | | Shadows and bright lights cast across the room interrupted her nightly ritual of channel surfing and she scowled at the window, but it didn’t keep her from rising from the chair and crossing to the window to see what was going on. She is compelled to- gossip is what she excels at. Gingerly, her frail hand pushes the cream lace curtain aside and she peers out to see a car with its headlights on parked haphazardly next to the curb across the street. It’s driver door was hanging open and the occupant was at the house of a young woman, just moved in not a week ago. A lover’s spat. Scandalous, she thought, urging the curtain back further. The door opened, spilling light out onto the walkway and silhouetting the woman’s figure while illuminating the white blonde hair and brown leather jacket of the man. The argument was accompanied by large and violent hand gestures until finally he grabbed her and threw her to the concrete sidewalk before she could close the door. The old woman wanted to reach for the phone just next to her, but a burning fear held her in place as if moving would have her noticed. The woman across the street moved sluggishly, crawling away from him but he pounced like a cat, grabbing handfuls of her hair to lift her head before crushing it into the ground. She didn’t move again as blood pooled around her. As if it made her feel more protected, she clutched her nightgown at her throat, choking on her own horrified scream lest she draw attention to herself. Too late. His blood splattered face looked up, no doubt drawn by the light and she knew she gazed at evil. The curtain fell away as if to hide her. Moments later, the headlights fled leaving her sobbing in a corner that somehow her own life was spared. |
Sorry if I did this wrong.
This post has been edited by SilverMoonFairy on Sep 8 2009, 01:55 PM
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