Home | Contest | Write A Book | Write Ebooks For Cash | Be A Travel Writer | Write Children's Books Write For Newspapers | Write An Ezine | Write A Blog | Writing Skills & Tips | Novel Writing Software Please take a moment to bookmark this site and join our free hot tips list. Read & Rate Our Writing Contest Entries! See what other people have written, and rate them on a scale of 1 to 5. This is an opportunity to view a wide variety of short stories and see what kind of original material is being submitted to us on a daily basis. After you rate an entry, you will be randomly redirected to another entry to rate. You may read and rate as many entries as you wish! The user-rating system is simply a fun way for writers to receive a public opinion of their work, and does not affect the judging for the cash prizes. If you wish to enter the contest, you may enter for free here. Rate This Contest Entry: Contest: June 30th, 2005 Author: Drew Catnip “Can’t you see the knife? Can’t you see? Take it out, take it out, take it out!!” She felt on the floor; spasmodic shivers running through her body. The dogs are barking outside, but it’s too dark too see if someone is approaching the house. I go down in the kitchen to get her a glass of water. When I opened the door to my room she was no where to be seen. I looked for her throughout the house. It didn’t take me much. The dogs were still barking, but very far away now. I went back in my room and saw a knife on the floor. It wasn’t there before! He walked up and down between the chairs in the church. If you stay in the church too long you start to repent and he wasn’t going to repent, at least not today. He looked for the millionth time at the windows. The light was trying to squeeze through the colorful pieces of glass that were saints and Jesus. He was late, as always! He eventually saw the newcomer in the door way. He took out a red tissue and smiled. He looked at me smiling. I knew he liked me. He liked me a lot. “I collect knifes.” he said all of a sudden. I look in the distance – no one to be seen. “I saw you met Annie.” I look at him puzzled. “The girl that was with at your house last night…” I raise my eyebrows, but I don’t say a word. “I totally dislike her. I killed her last year, you know! She’s still complaining…” He shook his head in a mocking way. He took my hand and smiled at me, his eyes glittering. “I’m gonna kill you too, you know!” I look once more in the mirror and arrange my tie and the red tissue in my pocket. The door opens and mother peeks inside. “Who wears a red tissue now a day? I totally dislike it!” “Mother, we had this conversation before. I’m not 16 anymore!” “No, of course you aren’t! You are old enough to do anything you like.” She smiled mockingly. “Your girlfriend – Annie is here with another friend. I can’t remember her name, though!” I look again in the mirror and arrange my suit again. It’s going to be a lovely ceremony. I rose and left. I felt the knife in my hand and turned. He was lying there – dead, an icy puddle of blood surrounding his head like an aura. He looked almost like a painted saint on a church wall. Annie approached him yelling. “Can’t you see the knife? Take it out, take it out, take it out! Can’t you see?” As Annie kneeled near him she somehow started to melt into him. At the horizon the sky was absorbed in the earth. I turned and ran. I open the book once more. Weaved threads of red tissue were marking were I last read. I open the books pages back and I re-read the murder. The bloody criminal, which now I know has my name, will cut the girl’s throat and chop her. “Chop, chop, chop, chop/ the dogs are barking/ they won’t stop/ Chop, chop, chop, chop!” I open my eyes and shut out the noises. I look around. 4.30 p.m. I didn’t always have dreams like that. I use to dream of sun and butterflies, but before I hadn’t cut Steve’s throat. It wasn’t vengeance. I wasn’t even afraid of him. I just wanted to kill him. I walk down the street every day and I imagine people dead. I imagine that old lady, dressed in brown, dead. It’s simple. I just couldn’t imagine Steve dead. So I killed Steve. It was better than in my imagination. I’m not going to kill anyone else, I promise. I look at the red tissue he has in his hand. He smells it and then smiles at me uncovering his white sharp teeth like a dog (like the dogs in that novel I read.) “Chop, chop, chop, chop!” The guys are trying to get inside. “The dogs are barking…” The guys keep talking. Why can’t they shut up? Make them shut up! “Chop, chop, chop, chop!” We are inside. I snap my eyes open. It’s dark. I can’t even realize if they’re open or shut. My hand wanders to my belly. It’s a cut down there. I will die soon. They placed a red tissue on the wound. It won’t stop the bleeding. It’s really useless. They just wanted my money and to kill me. One of them was named Steve and he called me Annie. My name is not Annie. I can’t remember my name! Can’t you see it doesn’t matter anymore! Warning: fopen(/home/writingc/public_html/entries/b3_rating/b3r_data/.txt) [function.fopen]: failed to open stream: No such file or directory in /home/writingc/public_html/entries/b3_rating/b3_rating.php on line 69 Warning: fopen(/home/writingc/public_html/entries/b3_rating/b3r_data/.txt) [function.fopen]: failed to open stream: No such file or directory in /home/writingc/public_html/entries/b3_rating/b3_rating.php on line 69 Warning: fopen(/home/writingc/public_html/entries/b3_rating/b3r_data/.txt) [function.fopen]: failed to open stream: No such file or directory in /home/writingc/public_html/entries/b3_rating/b3_rating.php on line 69 Warning: fopen(/home/writingc/public_html/entries/b3_rating/b3r_data/.txt) [function.fopen]: failed to open stream: No such file or directory in /home/writingc/public_html/entries/b3_rating/b3_rating.php on line 69 |
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