The Blue Eyed Demon

Autobiography written by ladylunaivy on Saturday 10, April 2010

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Description
The Demon

Overall Rating: 89.4%

This writing has been rated by 4 members, resulting in a rating of 89.4% overall. Below is a breakdown of these results:

Concept/Plot:87.25%
Imagery:91.5%
Spelling & Grammar:89.75%
Flow/Rhythm:90%
Vocabulary:88.5%
The blue eyed demon stood before me, a gaze locked on me that would kill any other person instantly. Furry burned in those eyes like a fire that fought to be released; a fire that I knew would free itself so very soon. The demon's eyes shifted away from me in search of a reason to release its rage. My time to escape was now. My legs reacted and I ran from that small room. The demon roared something from behind me. Its fiery rage had found its release and I knew that if I was caught it would release it upon me. As I came to a set of stairs I did not slow my flight and leapt down them bypassing every step. The impact from my landing sent a sharp pain threw every joint in my body but there was no time to check for injury and in a flash I was off again. I had to get out of this prison, this house that the demon dwelled in. My plan was simple, not well thought out, but simple. I just had to get to the front door and get out, and then I would run away as fast as I could. To where, I had no idea, but like I said it was not that well though out. A loud crack from behind confirmed that the demon still pursued me as it followed my example and jumped down the stairs. The old demon let out a grunt of pain that shocked me. I glanced over my shoulder at the demon. It was forcing itself up already, those blue eyes already locked onto me. My heart felt as if it had stopped in that instance. My attention turned again before me. The door was so close. My fingers wrapped around the handle and flung open the door. The air outside was cool and sweet, interlaced with the fragrance of the first flowers blooming in the early spring. My heart whispered a hint of hope. Freedom, it was there before me. Thin arms wrapped themselves around my torso as I felt myself ripped back into that prison. My mouth opened as I wanted to call for help but nothing was released and the door that once reviled my freedom was slammed closed. No sooner than the door had closed I found myself being tossed across the room, my small frame gave little resistance to the strength of the demon. I landed on my side with a thud and slid a few feet across the smooth floor. My mother, another prisoner of the demon, stood in a nearby doorway. From the corner of my vision I seen her standing there, her hands tightly clasped over her mouth to keep her from crying out for the demon to stop. I seen the begging in her eyes though, those eyes that glistened with fear and tears. Turning my attention to the demon there was no time to react. It was upon me and blue light flashed across my eyes from the impact of its fist upon the side of my left eye. I can not tell you how long the wrath of the demon lasted. I had been the creature's victim so many times that I had began to fade out when these situations occurred. The next thing I remember is my mother kneeling over me and shaking her head. She runs her hand down each side of my face, her eyes focused on mine. "You have such beautiful eyes," she whispers. I am not sure if she is talking to me really or to herself. As I grew up she often would look into my eyes then look away. I never knew exactly why. I always just thought it was because I shared the same eyes as the demon's; a gift of my blood line. "You don't have to be the thing he is," her words stunned me and all I could do is blink at her. "If God had wanted us all to follow the same path, he would not have given us a sky full of stars to choose our own to follow," she spoke just above a whisper and forced a smile for me. "Don't let him turn your gentle heart bitter." She left me there on the floor at that point, going on about the room cleaning it up to make it look as if nothing had just happened. My mother was not much for conversation and she hardly ever talked. But those words are the single words that shaped me to be the person I am today.
   

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Comments

    To tell you the truth, It feels as if this is just a small excerpt from a larger story. So I'm a little confused. Wink
    The imagery drawn here is sharp, and the narration taut, with just a few minor spell errors.

    I also get the feeling that this might be just part of a larger story.

    I would like to read more of this.
    Ditto.
    could have been added ti Revenge if it was in third person.
    I put a lot of my own self and my life in my stories. Grin My characters are often made after people I have met in life, taking pieces of their personalities and traits.
    Furry burned in those eyes - I think you mean 'Fury burned in those eyes.
    the door that once reviled my freedom was slammed closed. - reviled or revealed?
    Oh, and go visit your mother.