Wednesday, September 21, 2011

Another Story For Creative Writing

Spider

The colossal spider picked my mother up and I could see her turning paler and paler. I could vividly see her bones turning gelatinous; drooping lower and getting soggier. Only being a nine year old girl, I thought this was a joke and my dad would spring out of the spider as if it was a suit, my mother would get up and we would all laugh. I realized this wasn’t a game when the spider turned on me and I ran through the living room to the kitchen and saw with a shock my drained pale dad on the kitchen floor. The spider hadn’t been interrupted when it attacked my dad so I had had time to suck out all of his insides. He was now no more than a mound of dead skin heaped in a mass on the ground. A tear started well up in my eye for my parents, but then I thought If I stand here and morn for them I will be killed as well.

Then I saw it, my tiny raw of hope for survival, the ancient machete my dad had kept above the fireplace for decoration. The machete caught my eye because light from the TV reflected it perfectly; it was still playing my father’s favorite movie “Saw 2”. I knew if I could get to the machete before the spider got to me I would have a chance at living. I sprinted over to the fireplace faster than I had ever run in my life. Right as I reached the ancient blade I heard the spider enter the room. I yanked it of the wall and spun wildly on the spot. One thought was reverberating through my skull, kill Kill KILL!!! I thrust the old metal through the spider’s head as it lunged low to grab my small body.

The second the machete was fully submersed in the spider’s skull it let of a moan of pure pain and with a sickening POP it exploded all of the living room. So there I was only nine drenched in spider entrails and the half digested insides of my parents.


No comments:

Post a Comment