gothic story

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic
this is a short gothic story that i had to write for english... i personally quite like it so i decided to post it... i dont really write stories i prefer poetry but you never know... also i had no idea what genre to put it under so sorry if its under the wrong one.... its not a perfect story but please comment also im open to any suggestions to make it better... as well as this i have no idea for a title so if you can think of one please tell me... thanks

Submitted: May 17, 2008

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Submitted: May 17, 2008

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As she took her last breath, my mother Mildred whispered, “in your uncles cottage there is a will, and the truth about your father. I know I said I knew nothing, but I was saving it until you were older. But now is the time you should know. Your father was…….” Then she died. Mildred my wonderful mother died. She was gone forever, but at least now, I could know the truth.
 
I could hear rattling every moment while the carriage was making its way down the road. I knew where I was going and why, because I wished to know the truth. But what could this truth be?
 
The journey to France took many days. All the time storms raged and cold winds howled. It was as if the world was warning me, telling me to turn back. However, I could not, not when I was so close to finding out the truth.
 
On the twelfth day of our journey, finally I saw it. A small tumbledown stone cottage rising out of the hill. It looked so old and abandoned that I did not realise this was it, until Fredrick my bodyguard pointed it out.
 
The windows were boarded up, the door was swinging on its hinges, and the roof looked like it would fall in at any minute. I had a strange feeling about the place. Something was not right yet still I pressed on.
 
Fredrick held the door open as I stepped in. With each step there was a creak, as if the floor was moaning with age and despair. As I looked around, the house seemed to shiver, as if it was scared of something.
 
I walked through the dimly lit hallway, into what appeared to be a study. It was filled with pile after pile of papers. I decided if I was going to find the truth, this would be a good place to start.
 
I called Fredrick in, he started lifting up piles, and clearing them so there was enough space to sit. After piles of useless rubbish were searched to no success, we decided to go and have a cup of tea before continuing.
 
That’s when I heard it CRASH! I turned around; Fredrick was nowhere to be seen. I called out to him sprinting room to room. That was when I spied it in the corner of my eye, the will. It was just sitting there on the dining room table, but a black figure was standing next to it. “Fredrick. Thank goodness you found the will!” I exclaimed. The figure turned around. It was not Fredrick.
 
The figure stepped into the light. I took him in. He had blue eyes, a strong electric blue. His hair was black with soot; I could only just make out it was blonde. His limbs were grazed and his nose was bleeding.
 
I made a grab for the will. He made a grab for me. I saw a flash of silver then a flash of red. He held a knife against my throat. A small crimson ribbon dribbled down my neck. I called out for Fredrick but he was not there. The mans hand covered my mouth. I could not breathe.
 
“Stay still and quiet and you don’t get hurt” he hissed maliciously. I sank to the ground and hugged my knees. I saw him take a piece of paper from the will, look it up and down, and laugh at it.
 
I decided to make a grab for it, I could not come this far to lose it. He seized my hair and dragged me up. "You will regret that" he spat. His knife reappeared. He was teasing me with it, taunting me.
 
Suddenly from behind me I heard. A smash of glass and a rumble of heavy boots on the wooden floor. The hands of the stranger were ripped off me. The man was flung against the wall. My hero was reaching out to me; he clasped me in his arms. I could feel his heart beating.
 
I looked up at his face, and it was no one other than my friend and bodyguard Fredrick. As I looked into his deep brown eyes I realised I loved him. I stayed there staring at him for ages until he realised. He sat me up and placed his hands on my shoulders, to be assured I was ok.
 
Then unexpectedly my senses informed me that the man was stirring. Fredrick shot to his feet like a lightening bolt and within the second, he had the stranger by the neck. He yelled at the man “spill why you are here and what you want and I won’t hurt you”
 
Breathlessly the man gasped “Im here to protect the truth behind the lies that I have hidden myself behind for the past seventeen years.” Seventeen years? I thought to myself. That is nearly my entire life.
 
 
 
With eyes filled with tears, he almost screamed, “I wanted to protect my daughter Catherine from knowing the truth about me. About how I managed to get addicted to opium. It would have ruined her life!”
 
“Catherine?” I whispered, “That’s my name… I came here to find out the truth about my father.” The man looked up and said with surprise “really? Oh my goodness, you are more beautiful than I ever imagined. Catherine, I am your father”
 
I looked at him in disbelief. My father? I knew he reminded me of somebody. His eyes reminded me of mine. He was not perfect but he was my father, the one who I had missed for almost my entire life. I ran to him and embraced him. My father, I could not believe it.
 
? Three years later ?
 
I am now Mrs. Fredrick cooper. I have one beautiful son called Bertie. He is almost a year old. I also have another baby on the way. I am very happy. Or at least I thought I was. But lately I am beginning to worry. My father says he has not once visited the opium dens for such a long time, but I keep smelling that sweet sickly smell.
 
Fredrick has been acting strangely too. He has been going down the bars and coming back stinking of the very same stuff. Also never before has he been so ambivalent about Gary and me. It is strange to realise that the one truth I wanted to know, the truth about my father. Has turned my love to the terrible affliction of opium.
 
The End


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