Narrative Of A Gothic Story

810 Words 4 Pages
Gothic Story
Depression: feelings of severe despondency and dejection. To have a gloomy or upsetting mood that can happen after a tormenting experience in one’s life.
This is exactly how I felt. London, 1845, the well known and proud Victorian era which was ruled by Queen Victoria I. The moon had vanished in the midnight sky as the clouds crawled over it. The air started to make a lullaby in my ear, like a music box for little children. The horse’s clipped and clopped along the old concrete road. Their hooves reminded me of my old rocking horse that I grew up with as I got bigger, stronger and more powerful. As the air sang its lullaby, it tried to whisper to me. Was it telling me something? Was there something it even wanted to tell me? Or was I just going crazy
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I grabbed my cane and whacked it in the head as hard as I could. The skull cracked, like a coconut. It laid there in agonizing pain and whimpered. As I ran to the streets, it got back up again, sprinted on all fours and tied to catch me. As I ran, I saw the metal pole blocking the alley way that I passed before. I jumped over it and skidded to the pavement of the road. As it ran, the creature banged it’s head on the pole and went flying back. It’s skulled cracked and it lay there, injured. I ran into a near carriage and decided to go to my home and rest.

As the carriage drove, I thought to myself. Why didn’t I help it? Will it die? Horrible thoughts raced into my head and I could not stop picturing the poor thing. I told the carriage to stop, and so I rushed over to it. As I looked over at it, I saw one of its organs lying there next to it. I picked up the organ and handed it over to the poor thing. It was soft, squishy, like a stress reliving toy. I sat down next to it, with its battered head lying on my lap. I sat there. I did not care about the people walking past and seeing me, or it, I just wanted this thing to be safe and to be in

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