Thing I wrote for ELA a week ago ish

The Dead Soul,
by Logan Franklin

T’was a rainy and foggy night, the sorrow winds, breezing through the whistling leaves of spring, a bolt of thunder streaked its way through the sky, shining like beacon under the moon’s light. All was quiet, but the pitter pattering of raindrops against the transparent windows, much like the empty soul of mine engraved with the sadness of my deceased wife; Jeanette.

The covers served me warmth much like a heater warms a house in the bitter colds of a frozen winter, as I lay tucked in bed. My heart longed to turn over to see my blue-eyed, Caucasian wife. To embrace her in the loving hold of my arms, to hear those three words a lovely married couple share with each other, to say; I love you. To fall asleep with my spouse who would use my chest as a substitute pillow, grasping me like a child would their giant stuffed teddy.

But alas, the side of the bed opposite where I lay, remained unaccompanied, as it always has for the past five years. Our only child, Jhonathan, whom Jeanette gave birth to, twenty-three years ago, in the year of 1993, had moved on to bigger, greener pastures, enticing collage, with the hopes of becoming a therapist for troubled souls, much like myself, yet he wasn’t here to give me the aid I dreadfully needed.

As the needs for sleep to rest my tired brain, my heavy eyelids came to a close, giving way to a world unlike the one I live in, where anything may happen. I faced towards the window across the room, as another loud flash of lighting made its mark in the night sky, followed by what i swore was a faint, and anomaly voice of sorts.

“Help me,” the voice whispered, cold and quiet, as if right in front of me.

In my current dreary, and sleepless state, I had come to the quick conclusion it was naught but a thought in my head that came consciously on it’s own, and once again it said;

“Help me,” just slightly louder this time, with a slight ring in my ear.

I sat up, and gazed about the small room which I slept in, with only a brown, mahogany dresser on one side of the room, and a closet on the other, as well as the end tables on either side of the bed, each with a matching lamp atop them, mine had a small photo in a metal frame, with the image of my wife. Although it was too dark, therefore I could not see very well, save for the small area near the window where a faint light peered in from under the closed curtains.

“Wh-who is there!?” I called out into the void darkness, with a slight stutter, only to be answered to by the absolute silence from the lack of another person in my room. For a short moment there was only the sound of rain beating against all it landed unto, with a few scarce lightning bolts, who’s light danced upon the floor and walls.

Again, came the eerie voice.

“Help me,” it called in a whisper, yet instead it sounded to have come just from outside of my bedroom door, the ringing returned again for a short spell.

My blood ran cold, and my hands began to shake from the slight fear of the possibility of there being another unwelcomed man or woman within the space of my home, my mind a flutter, and there was not a word, did I mutter.

“Who is there? Tell me thy name uncouth!”

No answer still, but the rain and blowing wind of an April storm.

“Help me,” said the voice, unwilling to give its silence.

By now the wholesome fear I felt gave relinquish to a more indignant titillation which aroused me into a more angered and mental tangibility. In a fluster I rose from my bed of slumber and rose drearily to my feet, weakened by the dread of needing sleep. And ever so cautiously, I tip toed over to the door, the hackneyed trit of a wooden flooring creaked where I stepped, wearing only a simple grey tank top and trousers.

“Show yourself, intruder! I be not in the mood for thy childish, and trivial pleasures, especially during this hour of the night!” I called out, and a small creak was heard. Then another, and another, just beyond the door of which i stood three feet away from, as if the intruder had been growing wearisome, attempting to take leave, being ever so cautious.

I reached for the door knob as the creaking went on, slowly turning, and with a satisfied ‘click’, I quickly ushered it open.

Darkness. Darkness was all I saw, for the creaking had suddenly stopped at the end of the corridor once the door had been opened. I flipped the switch on the wall to the right, which in turn lit the lamp which hung in the ceiling, and even in the light, there was nothing to be seen. I pressed forward, slowly shuffling my feet across the floor which had been cold against my smooth skin.

I took on the enquiry to investigate into the other rooms in search of anybody, or anything for that matter to give resolve to the premise I might be losing my mind! My entire being shook down to the very core of my accelerated beating heart as to the fact there were no other living things that could do so little as to give a significant hypothesis to give any little note of explanation to what was calling to me in that cold and darkened voice.

Upon finally reaching the stairwell, I gazed upon the darkened living room, quiet as a mouse, cautious still, there was another streak of lightning louder than the rest, exploded its sound from outside, and at that very instant, I heard the voice another time.

“Help me,” it pleaded, no longer in a hushed whisper, and much closer, the ringing getting louder.

My head grew achy with stress, to which I placed a hand to my forehead.

“Help me,” the voice repeated dauntingly, while the lack of another being in the house made its point that I may be losing my sanity.

My ears began to ring even louder still as I had sat on the steps, wishing this nightmare be over with already.

“Help me!” it cried, echoing throughout the room, the ringing never ceasing, louder and louder it was increasing. “Help me!” it shouted again.

I snapped.

“Demon I declare you leave my brain, and out the door you go, from my consciousness, let me sleep, for woe is all you have brought me this night! Leave I say!” I said to the voice, which only infuriated it more.

“Help me!”

“Help me!”

“Help me!” it cried, in that ghostly voice, but what was a man to do?

My head swam with an utter, and unpalatable confusion to that I just might lose my wit and snap like a weak and fragile twig when stepped on? Again, I stood to my feet as the voice carried on wailing, and my ears a ringing, I ran from the house, for I felt I needed to get away as fast as possible, yet the voice lingered, screaming, whispering, wailing, and pleading for help, but all was in vain, I couldn’t do so much as lift a finger to help a non physical being.

“Help me!”

“Help me!”

“Help me!” it wailed and whispered into my brain, along with the sharp, eerie ringing.

To the car in the driveway I ran, through the wind, and the chill, and the ice cold rain, there was a black Chevy Malibu waiting. I hadn’t even put on a raincoat, I just wanted to get out of there as fast as possible. I stuck the key into the slot, and as I turned it, the engine rumbled to life after I had entered the car.

The headlights illuminated the dirt road as I sped to get away, away from the beast who invited itself into my head. The voice was still calling out to me for help, but there was nothing I could do.

“Help me!,” the voice continued to cry as rain beat against my car, and thunder rolled across the sky.

Soon I came to a fork in the dirt road, where the left path led to the lake, and the other to the local road. Trees blowing in the wind gave into the forest of which I sped through down the dirt road, the ringing getting louder still.

The speedometer read 60 miles an hour I was going down a thin and bumpy road, so little did I know which path I had gone down. But I couldn’t stop. I had to get away. I need to get away from this haunting voice in my head, why was it there I do not know but I want it gone!

“Help me!”

“Leave me alone!” I pleaded, hoping to wake up from this bad dream I find myself in, to wake to my beautiful Jeanette in the bed beside me but no.

The dock came into view in the light the car gave off. It was too late to brake as the vehicle veered off the end, and into the lake I went with a loud splash and the unblemished sound of the two ton car crashing through the ice, splashing into the water, followed by the sound of crunching metal, and shattering glass from the impact.

Just like Jeanette.

The car began to fill with water and with a thud, it came to rest at the bottom of the lake, air bubbles rising from out of the car. I tried frantically to get my buckle undone, and as the water came up to my chest, it refused to budge. Soon I was enveloped in the ice cold lake water, becoming deprived of the oxygen my body so craved. My lungs tightened from the pressure, begging for air, but there was none, and the small bubbles only served for a tease as I wished I could rise to the surface like they. I began to lose consciousness, and one final time, I heard those two words in a soft voice:

“Help me,” it said, much clearer now, and as I slid from my consciousness, I took my last breath. It was Jeanette. The voice belonged to Jeanette...

The End...