Oddmanthefirst
Member
|
I had to write a short story for my AP Literature class. I just turned it in yesterday on turnitin. Hopefully this won't show up :p. Well, without further to do, here it is.
Icarus
A melody of fantastical tunes upheld the night of a summer’s feast. Aromas of roasted pig, a fresh harvest, and spices filled the air, and tickled the noses of the children that laughed and cried of stories told of long ago. Joy was a recurrent theme of the party, and never died down till late at night, when even the moon turned away to slumber. Most adults fell to alcohol-induced sleep, their bellies full of the night’s delicacies. Only a select few were still awake, conversing ever so quietly, careful to not wake up their neighbors. It was at this moment that a fragile old man stumbled upon the party, taking very small steps with the support of his cane. The ones left awake cried to the man, thanking him for his knowledge and his caring. The elder just nodded his head, and stumbled on his way to sit on a wooden stump not too far away from the fire. Once the man became comfortable and the flame turned into a smolder, a group of the children surrounded him. A small girl, concealing her yawn, tugged cautiously on the elderly man’s tattered robe.
“Excuse me mister.”
“Hello young girl, how are you?” the old man said.
“We want a bedtime story!” the girl responded, her hard brown eyes concentrated on the man’s hazy pupils.
The elder politely waved his hand. “Look how late it is child. I would be glad to tell you a story in the morning.”
But the girl would not take no for an answer. She pouted and tears swelled up in her eyes, ready to descend upon her rosy cheeks. Her lips quivered, and her hand reached over her face in order to cover the disappointment in her eyes.
“But…mister please…”
The old man sensed her sorrow, and quickly changed his response. “If you will obtain happiness from it, I will tell you a tale.”
The blonde girl’s whimper instantaneously turned into joy as she quickly hugged the elder and ran back among her friends to eagerly hear the story.
“Tell it old man, I don’t have all day,” an old young face screamed.
The elder ignored the comment, and began his tale.
“The story I have is a story of a time long ago. A time when even your parents were not even thought to be born, and a time where mystical creatures ruled the forest and knowledge was scarce. A time, in which only a small boy knew that knowledge was power, and so he began a quest to seek for it.”
--
A small boy sat gingerly upon a stump, reading a scroll tinted yellow and tattered by time. His feverish eyes danced delightfully upon each word the paper had to offer. And page by page he turned, and as he read more and more, his desire increased. A young beautiful girl came to the boy one day, asking a question as many others did each day.
“You are the one they call Icarus, correct?” the young girl inquired, her bright red hair bouncing off her keen shoulder blades. She was quite magnificent, to say the least. The exotic strands of hair that flowed down to her waist traveled in curls that mystified anyone who got lost in them, while her bright green eyes stabbed into those hearts’ that were entrapped in her sight. Her plush rosy red cheeks complemented well with her fair complexion, which was a certain rarity among the usual tan women of the forest.
“Yes I am Icarus, and you must be?” the boy boasted, as he continued to stare down at his parchment. Making no notice of the guest that entered his presence.
“Ms. McIntosh.”
“Well, Ms. McIntosh, I assume that you are here to ask me a question. And I assure you, I will be able to answer it. I have yet to not been able to do so. Now please, Ms. McIntosh, if you would so kindly, please come near my ear and ask the question.”
And so the young lady did without hesitation. Her voice sounded very tranquil as she whispered each syllable; however the boy did not even deem it necessary to pick up his head. When she finished, the boy merely laughed.
“Is that it? Even a fool’s fool could have answered that!” he sneered. He finally looked up from his book to see who the woman was, and when he did, he was entranced by her beauty.
“The answer is…,” Icarus began, but he could not think past that. The answer that he had seen so clearly before became muddled in his asker’s angelic being. Humiliated, Icarus’ face became bright red in embarrassment.
“The answer is…,” he began again; however he could never finish the sentence. The beehive of thought that was his brain had stopped, to a point where even the simple task of breathing became a bother for the mind. Icarus became mortified at what he had put so much stock in blew up in his face, and as a result, he ran away from the girl. He sprinted far into the forest, hearing her mocking laugh travel behind him. In his panic, Icarus tripped over one of the many large trees’ roots. In his brief flight, Icarus’ head collided with the tough robust trunk of the tree, knocking him out instantly.
When Icarus woke up, his head pounded and the Sun’s bright light burned his eyes. When he tried to shield them, he could not. Both his arms and legs were strapped to the ground by vines. Despite any struggle, Icarus could not separate himself. And so he closed his eyes against the Sun while awaiting rescue. Hours passed, and no help had arrived. Icarus began to fear for his life, his stomach twisted around itself and his lips cracked from lack of hydration. A cast of shade covered his eyes, and in response Icarus looked to see who was there. A shadowy figure was presented before him. It had the features of a young boy, but there was something about him that could never make him seem that young. There was some feature of the boy that looked old, and worn away. His snake-like eyes cut into Icarus, and he calmly licked his thin lips.
“Hello Icarus,” the old boy sneered as he slithered toward Icarus’ body. Icarus tried to speak, but could not for every time he spoke up a sharp pain began in his chest. “Save your breath Icarus, there is no use in speaking. Now, I know why you do not know the question that was asked earlier.” Icarus’ heart began to race. ‘How could he know about that?’ Icarus thought. “Do not worry Icarus, your humility is safe with me…But I do know why it is that you did not know the answer. It is emotion that is your downfall.”
A puzzled look overcame Icarus’ face. ‘What could he mean?’ Icarus thought.
“You must be wondering what I mean,” the figure scoffed, “It is simply natural that you have no idea what I am trying to convey.” Icarus just continued to stare at the devilish boy. “Why do you think you could not answer the question earlier? It was not because of the actual question, you knew the answer sure enough. It was because of emotion that you could not answer the question.” Icarus pondered about this statement. ‘Emotion is my downfall? How could a simple thing like that be the death of me? How am I ever to reach perfection if something as trivial as that is to stand in my way?’ The boy smiled, as if he knew exactly what Icarus was thinking at all times. “If the opportunity arose that you could get rid of this emotion, would you take it?” Icarus thought about it quickly, and nodded his head confidently. “Well I guess it is lucky for you that I am in that type of business,” the boy laughed. “By the time you wake up tomorrow, it shall be done.” And with this, the shade retreated into the shadows from which he came. When Icarus awoke the next day, his emotions were stripped just like the boy said they were to be. Rage, love, lust, happiness, and all of his other emotions vanished. Never again would emotion come in the way of the truth. However, Icarus would no longer know any purpose for his life. He was a shell of a man without a soul. And so with this notion, Icarus roamed aimlessly around the world, answering all questions presented with a cold hazy stare.
|
Printable Version
Icon Legend
New Messages
No New Messages
Hot Topic w/ New Messages
Hot Topic w/o New Messages
Locked w/ New Messages
Locked w/o New Messages
Post New Thread
