Gothic short story

This is the short story i wrote for my english GCSE, i hope you like it!


1. Gothic short story


That moment when I saw myself – my own, sane self, cradled in his protective arms, made me want to weep. I couldn’t understand – this scene being re-enacted before my very own eyes. Yet I, I did not play the part of myself, I was the narrator, the onlooker, observing my lifeless body, hunched and ragged. I let out a slow, silent scream, whimpering in terror and confusion. Moments before, when the menacing dagger pierced into my beating heart, when my blood dribbled from the ugly wound, when I let out my last, desperate breath and crumpled into his shaking chest. I saw it all, but I could not feel anything. I saw the sly grin spreading over his face, my pale eyes locked onto the red mass which soaked my clothing, my mouth in an expression of shock and despair. Yes, I told myself, this is what I saw. But how? and why? My mind could not comprehend.

            After what seemed like an age he placed my pale, limp body onto the marble floor and stood up cautiously. He paused for a second, guilt creeping slyly over his bitter face, but quickly regained his demeanour and turned around. That was the last time I saw him, casually strolling out of the mansion, an innocent schoolboy retreating from his crime.

             I paused at the end of the long, antique corridor, my deathly black dress billowing out from my waist, the colour of mourning. A year had passed, a whole, agonizing year, and I was consumed with hatred. Today would be the day, I reassured myself. After today I could rest at last. My eyes lazily scanned the hall; I knew each detail, each feature, each mark, and that drove me mad with frustration. A whole year! I exclaimed to myself, a whole damned year trapped in this house! Ensnared in this state, not alive but not yet fully dead. How content I would be after today when the deed was done, when I could leave this place forever, when my mind would be at peace so I could die at last.

             The stained, oak staircase curved crookedly up towards the sleeping quarter of the house, the top of the stairs not quite visible, masked by a deep, black shadow. The crumbling plaster flaked onto the aged, woven rugs that shrouded the cold hard, floor. Darkness hid in every corner, shadows skulking the floors and walls. The windows were guarded with heavy, unyielding curtains, which were almost impossible to move. It was as if the house didn’t want to be tormented with the garish light. I observed my surroundings; this was my prison. Stuck in this limbo for all eternity. But i knew what I had to do.

               I stood there silently, waiting, wondering. The clock ticked mockingly, I could’ve sworn it had slowed down, purposefully tormenting me, as if it knew what terrible deed lie ahead. My hands clasped together desperately, the steady, firm ticks driving me insane. I could not cope for any longer. I thought I might kick and scream and wail, like a disobedient child, but I remained silent and motionless. Then I heard the sound that I had waited a year for - the predicted groan of the heavy door, and the purposeful footsteps which followed. I could hear my voice, questioning and suspicious which was shortly answered with his reassuring tone. I could hear them getting closer and as soon as they entered the hall, my unbeating heart seemed to thrash inside my chest. I held a breath. He guided my still-living body towards the middle of the room. I wanted to leap at myself, to scream in my ear. Run! I would yell, get away! But it would be no good. I could not change the past, but, I smiled slyly to myself, I could alter it a little.

              I knew what came next. I felt for the sharp knife that was thrust into my tight, laced bodice and strode solemnly towards my murderer. I watched intensely at the scene before me. My alive self was crouched on the floor, retrieving the necklace which had ‘mysteriously’ fallen from her neck. And then the bastard did it. He pulled out the shining dagger from his pocket, and slammed it into her chest, exactly the same as before. I watched myself scream and slump forward, unnaturally bending, like a porcelain doll. This was the moment,  I told myself, this was what I had waited for. I gathered up all my anger from the past year, the betrayl, the confusion, the hurt, and snarled viciously. I grabbed my own dagger and launched myself onto him aggressively. And then, when the blade sunk into his flesh, that was when I felt the blessed harmony that I had waited all this time for. This revenge meant I could finally be at peace at last. And when the seductive arms of death reached out for me, I did not resist.

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