Tuesday, 20 March 2012

A really really short novella

I'm having such trouble finding things to blog about. It may be because my mind is otherwise occupied. Occupied with my essay mostly. But I feel like I should give you something to read. So here's a really short novella I wrote on the bus trip to France in 2008. Originally in Swedish, but easily translated.


In a dark room, around the midnight hour, a young woman was asleep - uneasily. She turned suddenly several times and cold sweat broke out on her forehead. She whimpered and breathed heavily. In the mists of her dreams she was running around in a long corridor covered with mirrors from floor to ceiling. She felt chased and turned hastily off from her road several times, but after almost every turn there was a dead end covered with mirrors. Everywhere her terrified expression was reflected and all possible angles of her body. Many times when she tried to turn she hit a wall of mirrors.

But then the dream changed and in every dead end covered with mirrors was a man - well-built but with something grotesque. His face was covered in a sleek, white mask with holes only for the eyes and mouth. His rattling breaths echoed across the neverending corridor and he seemed to having harder to breathe the more she ran.

In a surge of sudden bravery she reached out to take off the mask. Quick as a flash he grabbed her arm and forced it backwards. The pain paralysed her and her newfound courage disappeared as fast as it came. Speechless by fear she stared at his expressionless face that was reflected from all around by the surrounding mirrors. The reflections enhanced the image of horror even more and she turned around and continued to run with the man's rattling breaths pounding in her head - but only in her head. Around her words echoed "When you see my face you'll die..." Gasping she closed her eyes and continued running. Suddenly she hit something. But her eyes closed she felt her way and heard something fall to the floor. She opened her eyes and looked up. The man looked down at her. It was the mask that had fallen to the floor. The eyes looking down at her were drenched with blood, two trickles of blood was running from them. The face was sticky with dried blood and when he smiled blood started flowing from the corners of his mouth. The woman screamed from the top of her lungs and in a bed far from there, she took her last breath.


I couldn't think of what to write at the moment so I asked my teacher. He said something with mirrors and masks. This is what I came up with. It took me about 15 minutes to write. What do you think? I'm not entirely satisfied, but this was more unconscious than conscious writing...

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What's the first thought in your head after reading this? Let me know!