28: Thursday, I Don't Care Bout You

i there. I have an idea - Thursday's are going to be story/poem days. "Story Thursday"? "Thursdays are for Stories"? "Thursday Tales"? "Tales on Thursdays"? Hmm...Let's go with Thursday Tales for now. Today, I'm going to share with you a short story/long poem that I wrote junior year of high school. Enjoy =)

The Light-Switch in the Attic

Once upon a hallow’s eve, a newlywed couple came to be. There was a house and an old light switch, but no ghosts or spirits or even a witch. This story is not of a normal fright, and it really takes place in more than a night. The passion and depth that this story holds is the secret to the scare that it unfolds. The strength of the love that the light switch does host, is what personally frightens me the most.

Upon that mystical hallow’s eve, was a sight so glorious for everyone to see. The newlywed couple walked into their home, with nothing but only themselves alone. The place was dark, but a cozy fire, so the couple for the night decided to retire.

Later that night was heard a bump that in the throat would cause a lump. That bump came from up up above, in the attic with all the horrible love. There sat that switch ready for light, but it had to wait until the time was just right. Ah, but hark, what sound was that, for surely it was not a cat. Not a sound but a movement, not a movement but a feel, a feeling in which gives the heart a good meal. And start with a spurt, then a gradual move, came the light switch, with time, and with much behoove. The light did flicker for it was not on since never and flicker it did for almost forever. Off and on, on and off, the switch did scoff. It could not make up its mind, even when given so much time. But soon, oh how soon, but 7 minutes later, it went on, oh that horrible light that filled the attic crater. Light flooded the attic and filled up the heart, one that was empty, lost and apart.

The light in the attic never extinguished, but its glow was never, not even, distinguished. The switch on the wall, in its horror did sit, and never let the attic rest just a bit. The light was on and never turned down, unable to let go of that horrible sound. That beautiful sound that haunted the heart, the one that set the others apart. Just two in the world would give but a shiver, and never would that feeling wither.

Downstairs slept quietly, still, the husband and wife with none but a chill. They were unaware of what went on above, and how much it came, all of that love. The terrible greatness of that little light, the great terribleness of that lonely night.

Once upon a hallow’s eve, a newlywed couple came to be. There was a house and an old light switch, but no ghosts or spirits or even a witch. This story is not of a normal fright, and it really takes place in more than a night. The passion and depth that this story holds is the secret to the scare that it unfolds. The strength of the love that the light switch does host, is what personally frightens me the most. To great despair did that light-switch turn on, for never to ever or ever be gone.