THIRD GRADE
UNIT 1B
SUSPENSE LITERATURE
Suspense... is a feeling of pleasurable fascination and
excitement mixed with apprehension, tension, and anxiety developed from an
unpredictable, mysterious, and rousing source of entertainment. The term most
often refers to an audience's perceptions in a dramatic work. Suspense is not
exclusive to fiction. It may operate whenever there is a perceived suspended
drama or a chain of cause is left in doubt, with tension being a primary
emotion felt as part of the situation.
READING TIPS
There are 8 strategies that
good readers use while reading to increase comprehension:
1. Making Connections
Good readers make connections to what they
are reading. They connect the reading to
their own experiences, things in the world, and other stories they have
read. Readers should be thinking,
"What does this remind me of?"
2. Prior Knowledge
Good readers think about what they already
know about a topic to help improve their understanding. They should always ask themselves, "What
do I already know about this topic?"
3. Ask Questions
Good readers question what they are
reading. Questions can be asked before,
during and after reading. Readers think,
"What do I wonder?"
4. Visualization
Good readers use their 5 senses to imagine
what is happening in the reading. What
can you see, hear, feel, smell and taste?
"It's like a movie in my head!"
5. Inference
Good readers combine what they already know
with what they learned in the reading to come to a conclusion or make
predictions. "Read between the lines!"
6. Determine what is
Important
Good readers can pull out the information
that is of most value. "The text
was mostly about..."
7. Summarizing
Good readers can retell the main details of
a story in only a few sentences.
8. Synthesizing
Good readers can go beyond the text and
combine their own knowledge with the reading to create something new.
WRITING SUSPENSE STORIES
Nine tricks to try Suspense is a hard discipline to master,
but the following tips will help to ensure a thrilling experience for the
reader:
1. Give the reader a lofty viewpoint. The
reader should have foresight. Let the reader see the viewpoints of both the
protagonist and the antagonist. By giving the reader a ringside seat to the
story’s developments, she gets to see the trouble before the protagonist does.
The reader sees the lines of convergence between the protagonist and antagonist
and feels the consequences of the perils ahead. Also, this technique allows the
writer to place emotional weight on the reader. The tension will build from the
reader’s self-imposed fears of knowing that the hero is on a collision course
with disaster.
2. Use time constraints. Another key way to
build suspense is through the use of time. The protagonist should be working
against the clock, and the clock should be working for the bad guys. In Robert
Ludlum and Gayle Lynds’ The Altman Code, Covert One agent Jon Smith has only
days to prove the Chinese are sending chemical weapon materials to Iraq. In
Greg Iles’ 24 Hours, Will and Karen Jennings have one day to escape their
captors to rescue their child from a kidnapper. Every minute you shortchange
the protagonist is another notch up on the burner under the reader’s seat.
3. Keep the stakes high. This doesn’t
necessarily mean the story’s hook has to be about global annihilation. But the
story must be about a crisis that’s devastating to the protagonist’s world, and
the hero must be willing to do anything to prevent it from occurring.
Therefore, the story could be about a father trying to rescue his wife and
child from an impending flood, or an innocent man who’s framed for murder going
on the run to establish his innocence. The crisis has to be important to ensure
readers will empathize with the protagonist.
4. Apply pressure. The protagonist should
be working under what seems to be insurmountable odds. All his skills and
strengths must be stretched to the breaking point in order to save the day. The
hero should bend, but never buckle under the pressure the antagonist applies.
There should be only one person left feeling helpless in the story, and that’s
the reader.
5. Create dilemmas. Suspense loves a
dilemma. The antagonist needs to be throwing things at the protagonist that
present awkward challenges or choices that will test her caliber. The choice
must seemingly be a lose-lose situation for the protagonist. This may take the
form of choosing to save one person while leaving another to die, picking up a
gun after swearing an oath never to do so again or taking that offered drink
after years of sobriety.
The antagonist, by his nature, will cross
lines without a second’s thought, while fully conscious of his actions. But the
protagonist is a different breed—as a hero, he can’t let innocent people die
without a fight, or stray from his morals or promises. The great thing about
dilemmas is that they need time to be solved, and with the pressure of time
constraints, the tension can only build. So test, tease and tempt the
protagonist.
6. Complicate matters. Pile on the
problems. Give the protagonist more things to do than he can handle. The hero
has to be stretched wafer-thin. If you’ve ever seen one of those old music-hall
acts where spinning plates are perched on top of flimsy bamboo poles, and
there’s some poor guy running himself ragged trying to keep all the plates from
crashing down, well, that’s how it should be for the protagonist. The hero
should be that guy trying to keep all those plates spinning, while the
antagonist is forever adding another plate to the line. By the end of the book,
the protagonist should be just barely preventing everything from crashing to
the ground.
Let’s use The Altman Code and 24 Hours as
examples again. In The Altman Code, Jon Smith’s problems are further
complicated by having to break the president’s father out of a Chinese prison camp.
In 24 Hours, Will and Karen Jennings’ daughter is diabetic, and the kidnappers
don’t have her insulin. Both these examples add another layer of complication
to their respective stories.
7. Be unpredictable. Nothing in life runs
perfectly to plan for anyone. Make nothing straight-
forward for the protagonist. The hero
shouldn’t be able to rely on anything going right for her, and any step forward
should come at a price. The antagonist shouldn’t go unscathed, either.
In Newtonian physics, for every action
there’s an equal and opposite reaction. The sheer presence of the protagonist
is going to gum up the antagonist’s plans, which means the antagonist is going
to have to improvise. Both players will have to be quick-witted to deal with
any and all upsets, especially as the story progresses toward its climax.
Remember, the protagonist and antagonist don’t have to be the only monkey
wrench in each other’s lives. Let outside forces be that, too. These characters
might be locked in a do-or-die battle, but the rest of the world isn’t.
Friends, neighbors, deliverymen and even public holidays can all be flies in
the ointment. And don’t forget Mother Nature herself. A great illustration of
this is the opening of Robert Crais’ Demolition Angel, where two bomb disposal
experts are trying to defuse a bomb—and an earthquake occurs. Brilliant!
Essentially, keep that storyline fluid. The reader might know what the story’s
end game is, but this doesn’t mean they should know how it’s going to get
there.
8. Create a really good villain. In a
mystery, the villain has to be somewhat transparent because you don’t want the
reader to catch on to who she is too quickly. But in a suspense novel, the bad
guy is very visible. A great villain isn’t someone who twirls a handlebar
moustache and ties damsels to railway tracks. The ultimate antagonists are
smart and motivated. They have to be to have created this spectacular hook
that’s going to keep readers riveted to their La-Z-Boys for the length of a
book. Flesh this person out. Explore the antagonist’s motivations and
character. Give the reader reasons why the antagonist is who he is. The reader
has to believe in and fear this person. The villain has to be a worthy opponent
to our hero. Anything else won’t do.
9. Create a really good hero. If the book
has a great bad guy, then it’s going to need a great hero. This may be key to
any story, but the suspense hero has to be someone the reader believes in and
cares about. When the hero is in peril, the writer needs for the reader to hope
that person will pull through.
Suspense writing is all about creating a
pressure cooker with no relief valve. You have to keep turning up the heat
using multiple burners. Employ these techniques and your reader will never come
off the boil.
Positive and Negative Emotions
Emotion is Energy-in-Motion. It is a way of expressing
oneself in life. It is the quality of how one relates to life.
The emotions expressed by humans can be divided into two
broad categories. We can regard them as polarized, as opposite of each other,
or we could just say that there is a dividing line where one type of emotions
change into the other type of emotions.
We can call the two types of emotions Negative and Positive.
That is not so much as value judgment as it is a description of the main action
of each group. Judging either as "good" or "bad" isn't very
helpful.
Negative emotions express an attempt or intention to
Exclude. Strengthening one's own position at the expense of others. Keeping bad
stuff away, destroying what is perceived as a threat. Negative emotions are
fueled by an underlying fear of the unknown, a fear of the actions of others,
and a need to control them or stop them to avoid being harmed.
Positive emotions express an attempt or an intention to
Include. Taking the whole into consideration. Working on learning more
viewpoints, interacting more with others, enjoying making things better.
Positive emotions are fueled by an underlying desire for enjoyment and unity.
Negative emotions are, for example: apathy, grief, fear,
hatred, shame, blame, regret, resentment, anger, hostility.
Positive emotions are, for example: interest, enthusiasm,
boredom, laughter, empathy, action, curiosity.
WORDS FOR DESCRIBING FEELINGS AND EMOTIONS
Descriptive Words for Characters: Physical Qualities
Positive
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Negative
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Active
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Exquisite
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Pretty
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Awkward
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Hideous
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Ugly
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Adept
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Fair
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Ravishing
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Bizarre
|
Homely
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Ungainly
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Adroit
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Fascinating
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Robust
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Cadaverous
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Horrible
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Unkempt
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Agile
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Good-looking
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Shapely
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Clumsy
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Incongruous
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Unmanly
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Attractive
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Graceful
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Skillful
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Coarse
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Invidious
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Unwomanly
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Beautiful
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Handsome
|
Spirited
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Decrepit
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Loathsome
|
Weak
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Brawny
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Hardy
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Spruce
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Effeminate
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Odious
|
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Charming
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Immaculate
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Stalwart
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Emaciated
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Repellent
|
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Comely
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Lively
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Strapping
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Feeble
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Repugnant
|
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Dainty
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Lovely
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Strong
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Frail
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Repulsive
|
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Dapper
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Manly
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Sturdy
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Gawky
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Sickly
|
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Delicate
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Muscular
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Virile
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Ghastly
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Slovenly
|
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Dexterous
|
Neat
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Vivacious
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Graceless
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Spare
|
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Elegant
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Nimble
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Winsome
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Grotesque
|
Thin
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Descriptive Words for Characters: Mental Qualities
Positive
|
Negative
|
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Apt
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Learned
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Bigoted
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Stupid
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Astute
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Observant
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Crass
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Ungifted
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Capable
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Precocious
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Dull
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Unintellectual
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Clever
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Prudent
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Fatuous
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Unintelligent
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Competent
|
Rational
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Foolish
|
Unlettered
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Crafty
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Reasonable
|
Ignorant
|
Unschooled
|
Cunning
|
Sage
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Illiterate
|
Vacuous
|
Educated
|
Scholarly
|
Inane
|
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Erudite
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Sensible
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Irrational
|
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Gifted
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Shrewd
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Narrow-minded
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Ingenious
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Subtle
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Obtuse
|
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Intellectual
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Talented
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Puerile
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Intelligent
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Wily
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Shallow
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Inventive
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Wise
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Simple
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Descriptive Words for Characters: Moral Qualities
Positive
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Negative
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Abstemious
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Righteous
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Base
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Iniquitous
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Austere
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Straightforward
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Corrupt
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Intemperate
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Chaste
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Temperate
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Deceitful
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Notorious
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Decent
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Trustworthy
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Degenerate
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Reprobate
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Exemplary
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Truthful
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Depraved
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Ribald
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Faultless
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Undefiled
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Dishonest
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Sensual
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Guileless
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Upright
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Dishonorable
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Unprincipled
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Honorable
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Virtuous
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Dissolute
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Unscrupulous
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Idealistic
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Foul
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Vicious
|
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Innocent
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Immoral
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Vile
|
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Pure
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Incorrigible
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Vulgar
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Puritanical
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Indecent
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Wicked
|
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Respectable
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Infamous
|
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Descriptive Words for Characters: Spiritual Qualities
Positive
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Negative
|
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Angelic
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Agnostic
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Materialistic
|
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Devout
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Atheistic
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Mundane
|
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Faithful
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Blasphemous
|
Profane
|
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Godlike
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Carnal
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Sacrilegious
|
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Holy
|
Diabolic
|
Skeptical
|
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Pious
|
Fiend
like
|
Unregenerate
|
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Regenerate
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Godless
|
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Religious
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Impious
|
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Reverent
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Irrelevant
|
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Saintly
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Irreligious
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Descriptive Words for Characters: Social Qualities
Positive
|
Negative
|
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Affable
|
Acrimonious
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Irascible
|
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Amiable
|
Antagonistic
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Malevolent
|
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Amicable
|
Anti-social
|
Misanthropic
|
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Cheerful
|
Boorish
|
Obsequious
|
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Civil
|
Brusque
|
Peevish
|
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Congenial
|
Captious
|
Perverse
|
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Convivial
|
Caustic
|
Petulant
|
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Cooperative
|
Churlish
|
Provincial
|
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Cordial
|
Contentious
|
Quarrelsome
|
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Courteous
|
Crabbed
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Rustic
|
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Debonair
|
Critical
|
Shrewish
|
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Elegant
|
Crusty
|
Sniveling
|
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Genial
|
Cynical
|
Sulky
|
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Gracious
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Discourteous
|
Sullen
|
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Hospitable
|
Fawning
|
Sycophantic
|
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Jolly
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Fractious
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Uncivil
|
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Jovial
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Grumpy
|
Unctuous
|
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Polite
|
Ill-bred
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Ungracious
|
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Politic
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Ill-mannered
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Unpolished
|
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Sociable
|
Implacable
|
Unrefined
|
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Suave
|
Impolite
|
Unsociable
|
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Tactful
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Imprudent
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Waspish
|
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Urbane
|
Insolent
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Descriptive Words for Characters: General Qualities
Positive
|
Negative
|
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Admirable
|
Gentle
|
Phlegmatic
|
Apathetic
|
Indiscreet
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Rebellious
|
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Altruistic
|
Gullible
|
Plucky
|
Arrogant
|
Inefficient
|
Recalcitrant
|
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Ambitious
|
Humane
|
Punctual
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Artificial
|
Insensitive
|
Reckless
|
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Aristocratic
|
Humble
|
Radical
|
Avaricious
|
Insidious
|
Refractory
|
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Artless
|
Illustrious
|
Reactionary
|
Boastful
|
Insignificant
|
Remiss
|
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Assiduous
|
Imperturbable
|
Refined
|
Brutish
|
Intolerant
|
Reprehensible
|
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Audacious
|
Imposing
|
Reserved
|
Bumptious
|
Irresolute
|
Ruthless
|
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Benevolent
|
Impressive
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Resolute
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Bungling
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Irresponsible
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Sanctimonious
|
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Candid
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Indifferent
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Resourceful
|
Callous
|
Lackadaisical
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Scurrilous
|
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Cautious
|
Indomitable
|
Responsive
|
Capricious
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Lazy
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Self-centered
|
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Charitable
|
Indulgent
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Reticent
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Complacent
|
Lethargic
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Self-indulgent
|
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Circumspect
|
Industrious
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Saturnine
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Conceited
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Listless
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Silly
|
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Compassionate
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Influential
|
Saucy
|
Contemptible
|
Malicious
|
Slothful
|
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Confident
|
Ingenious
|
Scrupulous
|
Contemptuous
|
Malignant
|
Smug
|
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Conscientious
|
Intrepid
|
Sedate
|
Cowardly
|
Mediocre
|
Squeamish
|
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Conservative
|
Kindly
|
Self-impassive
|
Craven
|
Mercenary
|
Stingy
|
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Considerate
|
Laconic
|
Self-reliant
|
Cruel
|
Mischievous
|
Stubborn
|
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Courageous
|
Liberal
|
Sensitive
|
Dilatory
|
Mulish
|
Timorous
|
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Coy
|
Long-suffering
|
Serious
|
Disdainful
|
Niggardly
|
Traitorous
|
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Cultured
|
Magnanimous
|
Shy
|
Dogmatic
|
Obdurate
|
Treacherous
|
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Demure
|
Meek
|
Sober
|
Domineering
|
Obnoxious
|
Truculent
|
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Determined
|
Melancholic
|
Solemn
|
Eccentric
|
Obstinate
|
Unambitious
|
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Diffident
|
Merciful
|
Staid
|
Egotistical
|
Odd
|
Unreliable
|
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Diligent
|
Moody
|
Stoical
|
Envious
|
Oppressive
|
Unruly
|
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Discreet
|
Munificent
|
Strong-willed
|
Erratic
|
Ordinary
|
Unstable
|
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Distinguished
|
Naïve
|
Sympathetic
|
Fastidious
|
Overconfident
|
Vain
|
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Earnest
|
Natural
|
Taciturn
|
Fickle
|
Parasitic
|
Venal
|
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Efficient
|
Noble
|
Thrifty
|
Frivolous
|
Parsimonious
|
Vindictive
|
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Eloquent
|
Nonchalant
|
Timid
|
Gluttonous
|
Perfidious
|
Voracious
|
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Eminent
|
Patient
|
Tolerant
|
Haughty
|
Petty
|
Wearisome
|
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Enthusiastic
|
Pensive
|
Unaffected
|
Headstrong
|
Pharisaical
|
Willful
|
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Flippant
|
Persevering
|
Uncompromising
|
Hypocritical
|
Pompous
|
Worthless
|
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Forbearing
|
Persistent
|
Valorous
|
Imperious
|
Prejudiced
|
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Frugal
|
Persuasive
|
Wary
|
Impetuous
|
Prolix
|
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Garrulous
|
Pert
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Well-bred
|
Imprudent
|
Proud
|
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Generous
|
Philanthropic
|
Whimsical
|
Impulsive
|
Quixotic
|
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Genteel
|
Philosophical
|
Witty
|
Incompetent
|
Rash
|
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Zealous
|
Reading 1
A Nightmare
ENGLISH SHORT STORY BY ABOLI
PUBLISHED ON JUL-13-2013
Our footsteps echoed down the stairs as we
reached the dimly lit lobby. The clock on the opposite struck 8:00. The usual
bustle and chatter of after-class students was followed by their eagerness to
return home. We were art students being tutored in this ramshackle of a school
for our Intermediate Art Examinations. We had to stay back late in another
school as a specially gifted art teacher used to commute a long distance to
teach us. Our school didn’t permit late night classes so we were shifted to Our
Lady of Roe High school.
The classes usually ended at 7:00 in the
evening but teacher herself had turned up late today and hence the delay. I was
at the back of the group, walking alone when Isha strode up to me with a
request, “Malini, can I borrow your geometry box for today? Mine has been
stolen.”
“Sure.” I replied as I slipped my hand into
my bag and groped around. Something did not feel right…where was it? Sweat
formed on my upper lip. Had I left it in the classroom? Of course I had.
“I think I forgot it in the class, Isha.
I’ll go and get it now.” I replied.
“Are you crazy? Don’t go back in there!
Besides the lights on any of the floors in this wrecked school aren’t working.”
Isha cried.
“True, I don’t know why they make us wait
here for so long…some people say this school is haunted.” A student chimed in.
“They should pull down this building…I
don’t understand why they didn’t hold the classes in our own school” Another
declared.
“It’s because that old hag…— I didn’t get
to hear the comment of that boy since I had slunk away to climb the stairs and
reach my class.
Nervously shifting the bag from shoulder to
shoulder I pushed the door of my class open and stepped in. I flicked up the
main light switch. The room was flooded with fluorescent light. I found my box
just where I had left it. Relieved, I put it in my bag. As I advanced towards
the light switch to click it off I froze in midway. My ears had caught a soft
crack. Turning around I looked about the room. The source of the sound was a
couple of chalk-sticks which had fallen, probably due to the wind and had
broken. I replaced them and left the room. As I hurried past the classes
something, once more, made me stop abruptly.
The light in one of the classes was on. I
stepped in puzzled. ‘There weren’t lights in any of the classrooms when I came
here…then why…?’ My thoughts wandered. Nevertheless I went over to the switch
which was at the end of the aisle and flicked it off. The next moment I heard a
thump. I turned around startled. There was another thump, a sort of a wet
squishy thump. My throat turned dry. I flipped on the lights again but this
time they began flickering. I stared frightened and swallowed hard. I gasped
loudly when I saw a solitary figure moving towards me.
In the eerie half-light I could make out
the figure of a woman. She wore torn and bloodied clothes. They came up to her
thighs and her arms and legs were covered with scars. The clothes stuck close
to her body and long loose hair covered her entire face. She moved slowly in a
drunkard like fashion and her slick feet made wet thumps on the floor. I was
immobilized. Panic stricken yet with presence of mind I slid between the
benches of the middle row planning to make escape by dashing into the last
aisle and running a roundabout way to the door. But alas, my clumsiness played
the devil. As I made a dash for the door I tripped on the leg of the bench and
fell. I grabbed out wildly and gripped the desk to haul myself up but ended up
bringing down the whole desk on myself. My head hit the edge of the bench hard
and I blacked out.
The red light before my eyes faded. I
opened them slowly. The blur of faces drifted before me. I blinked myself
awake. I sat up. I was on a bench. It was the same bench on which I had
stumbled. The desk was on its place. I looked around the lights were back to
normal. I stared at my friends for an explanation.
‘We heard you scream so we came to check.
We didn’t find you in our own class so we assumed you may have fled from the
middle stairs. We were just walking back when Chetali saw you stretched out on
the bench in this class. The light was on. Tell us what happened.’ They
expounded.
‘But the table fell on me! How was I on the
bench?’ I thought. I wished to mention the encounter but hesitated for the fear
of being ridiculed.
We trooped out of the school campus and I
decided to laugh it off. Maybe I imagined the whole thing. I had a good
imagination but being a story producing freak gave you nightmares and
hallucinations. With a setting like this who wouldn’t? Curiosity made me lag
behind everyone and I quietly glanced back at the building only to freeze.
There. Watching me from one of the windows
with a grin was the girl ghost.
END
Reading 2
The magician
ENGLISH SHORT STORY BY HASEEB ZAFFAR
PUBLISHED ON JUL-3-2013
Hugo arranged his old coat properly and was
waiting and listening to the claps and noise that the spectators were making
while his master James Douglas was addressing them. As he waited besides the
curtains at one side of the stage he heard his master say now my associate Mr.
Hugo will shoot me with a gun while I will try to catch the bullet in my mouth.
Hugo came in front of the audience and they
all clapped. He had heard them clap before a thousand times, but all the glory
all the fame was not for him to keep but his master the great magician James
Douglas. Douglas announced anyone to come forward to check the genuinity of the
gun.
One man came on the stage he checked the
gun, the iron ball which was to be the bullet and even the gun powder. Hugo
looked at the man impatiently; as he has seen hundreds of them checking the
instruments before and none had ever found anything wrong for there was no
trickery in the tools. It was the place where the bullet in the barrel was kept
that mattered. These guns were used earlier by people but now they only existed
in museums and with magicians doing the bullet catch stunt. The powder was
loaded into the pistol but the bullet that the people expected to be thrashed
deep inside the barrel of the gun was just kept on the outer brim of the
barrel. The little alteration made the bullet eject slowly, enough for any
person to catch it but the audience couldn’t notice the change.
Hugo adjusted the bullet on the brim and
aimed it right at the great magician. Hugo had been working for him for the
last 20 years .he had come as a boy and agreed to work for Douglas hoping to
become a great magician himself, and he could become one if Douglas was dead,
for he knew all the tricks all the stunts that Douglas knew and even better but
with Douglas alive he could not dare to start his own show. only if he would
die then the stage would be Hugo’s the men working for Douglas would be his for
Douglas had no family.
The audience was silent and all were
staring at the two. Hugo remembered how he escorted Douglas everywhere
anywhere, but he was never appreciated more and never had Douglas given Hugo a
chance to perform himself on the stage, only if he would die today thought Hugo
the coming days would be his. He looked straight into Douglas bright excited
eyes. In the coming years his eyes would also look as excited though Hugo whose
eyes right then seemed to burn with rage.
He quickly his put finger in front of the
barrel and pushed the bullet deep inside. The audience didn’t notice Douglas
did but before he could do anything the bullet had blown his brains. Hugo
screamed, the audience screamed the doctor came rushing and declared him dead.
Hugo was crying in front of the crowd but deep inside he was just happy. The
newspaper termed it as an accident. Now the stage was Hugo’s, the audience was
Hugo’s.
20 years later the same newspaper wrote;’
the great magician Hugo died accidentally in a stunt called as ‘catching the
bullet’. The bullet that his 20 year old associate shot at him blew his brains
out while he was trying to catch it with his mouth.
END
Reading 3
Through the Eyes of a Killer
ENGLISH SHORT STORY BY SUNNYBRIDGES
PUBLISHED ON JUL-25-2013
I look at the woman as she lays there
dying. My stomach grows as it always did when I was working. I ignore it going
back to work on my masterpiece. I had only wanted to scare her at first, a sick
joke to get back at her for all the times she had treated me like I was less
than her. Still sometimes what we want and what we need are two different
things. What I wanted was to scare her. What I needed was to torture her. To
make her as ugly as she made me feel each and everyday. Her eyes, those eyes
that longed for release seemed so sad. Even before I made the first incision. I
almost felt sorry for her though almost is at times short lived. She lets out
one final scream as her soul leaves this world. I walk away a porcelain doll
painted beautifully against a moonlight backdrop on this cold autumn night.
I wake up next to my wife, sweet dripping
down my face. My palms are shaking. I reach over caressing her blonde hair.
Like silk against my skin. I kiss her closing my eyes. I open them again to see
the blonde again…no a woman with red locks smiles back at me. We make love for
a few minutes then get dressed and head into the kitchen. I sit down at the
dinning room table as she hands me a cup of coffee and the morning paper. Not
too black and not with a lot of cream and sugar. Just right. I sip at it as I
open the paper to read the sports page. A few minutes go by she places a plate
filled with eggs, bacon, sausage and pancakes down in front of me. I put the
paper down. Picking up the fork to eat.
She smiles as words escape her lips “I will
be home late tonight Robert. Judith is having a baby shower for her daughter
Grace tonight.”
I nod smiling though deep down inside baby
showers were death to a man. I knew this all men knew this. It meant that all
the fun you had had to make the child would soon be out the window. A dream
that was just out of reach. My wife Lucy had always wanted to have a baby but
to no avail she was barren. Lucy leaves going to her job as a psychologist for
the criminally insane. I go back to my coffee and paper this time reading the
headline. The car engine roars from outside- the coffee cup falls from my hand
in slow motion-shattering into a million pieces. The blonde I had dreamt about.
Her lifeless corpse was on the front page there to haunt me during my waking
hours. Those empty eye sockets, ruby red lips and perfect…no this was not
happening. Only a nightmare that I was trapped inside of. I stand up running
past the kitchen. It’s walls white with brown cabinets. I must have still been
sleeping up the lightly gray carpeted staircase. I begin to feel dizzy the
world around me becoming disillusioned. The white flowery blanket covers
something or someone. I grasp the sheet praying that I am still asleep. Pulling
back the blanket quickly I see the bed is empty nothing underneath. I fall to
my knees passing out on the carpet below.
“Robert? Robert?” I hear her voice. I hear
her speak my name frantically. Slowly the blonde woman comes in to view. A
white dress adjourns her small frame. Eye sockets devoid of life pierce deep
within my soul. A black liquid flows from the emptiness within. I blink feeling
as though my world was becoming a series of nightmares and reality. Slowly
blending together to drive me insane. The woman fades into Lucy kneeling down
in front of me. Her hand gently stroking my hair a look of concern filled her
eyes.
“What happened” she asked me. I could not
answer only sit there for a moment to figure out what was going on. Time seemed to slow down for awhile my
thoughts wondering if Lucy was real or if I was loosing my sanity. Who was the
woman I kept seeing? I had to find out. Without a word I stood up running out
of the house. I could not be in there, something was drawing me towards it. I
was a moth to the flame. The woman had been found in a garden near Fifth and
Main. The police had already searched the area and had found nothing. No weapon
of any sort that could have been used to murder this poor woman. Yet as if I
had been there I knew where to look. An old tree just a few feet from where the
body had laid decomposing in the dirt. My fingers glide over the trunk of the
tree. Lightly tapping at the wood till I hear a part that was hollow.
My fingers dig at the loosened piece of
bark that had been cut out then placed neatly back. A small hole had been
carved inside. It was small enough to hide something little and only big enough
to allow two fingers to slip through. I take my thumb and forefinger pinching
at the bit of metal that poked out. Carefully I remove the scalpel from the
base of the tree and grip it in the palm of my hand. I had never held a
scalpel, nor had I ever gone to medical school. Yet it felt as natural for it
to be in my hand as each breath I took. I fall to the dirt and once again my
world goes black.
I awaken in an alley my knees pressed tightly against my chest. My
clothes are wet how I cannot remember. Perhaps it had ran while I slept out
here. Why was I out here? Didn’t I have a home to go too? The sound of footsteps
approaching catch my attention. I look towards the sound, nervously wondering
who was coming. I see her stroll up to me. Lucy…my wife… not my wife. Lucy is a
doctor for the criminally insane. I remember now. She knells next to me
smiling.
“You did good Robert.” she whispers in my
ear. I feel the prick of something sharp piercing my skin. A knife? No a needle
filled with some drug. I look at Lucy my world becoming a blur once again.
“Sleep dear boy and fear not you won’t remember a thing”
If only Lucy had been right. I wish that
when I woke up again I could not remember. My eyes slowly open I am in a
hospital bed and there is a woman sitting next to my bed. Lucy… it had to be.
She had set me up for murder and had kept me asleep this whole time. I grunt
slightly to catch her attention. She stands up bolting for the door. I can hear
her scream for the doctors to hurry. A sound of relief and joy in her voice.
What a good actress she would make. Her hand caress my hair gently. I grab the
I.V that was feeding me fluids, ripping it fro my arm. Blood begins flow out of
my arm as I plunge the needle into her neck. I hear her scream. Something about
“Why Robert?” and I think I hear an “I loved you.”
Her body falls across me. The doctors
finally come in their eyes wide with panic at the scene. I didn’t care anymore.
I had gotten my revenge.
“What happened?”
that voice? I knew that voice. But how? I
look at the doctor standing there as everything finally comes into focus. There
she was safe and sound…Lucy. But how was she alive? Had I not killed her? I
look at the body. The blonde woman laid there her blood soaking the sheets. I
leap out of bed knocking the blonde from off me. I push Lucy to the side and
take off passed the doctors, passed the security. I run towards the door marked
stairs and head up them. My blood leaving a trail for them to follow. I make my
way to the rooftop this had to be a dream it had to be. I stand on the ledge
over looking the world below. I close my eyes and step off, the world rushes up
to greet me and then darkness.
“Bravo, Robert, Bravo.” the voice is
scratchy and harsh. “I honestly didn’t think you had it in you.” I look up my body felt like it had been
burned over and over again. “Who are you? Where am I?”
“Who am I? Well you can just call me
Lucifer.” he says stepping out of the shadows “As for where you are…well dear
boy this has been your home for the last several years.”
Did he just say years. I had to wonder what
I had done that would have gotten me a spot in hell. Still none of it mattered
I was happy to finally be awake.So none of it was real only a demented illusion
as part of my torment. I smile walking away whistling “Do your ears hang low”.
The End