Tuesday, 3 July 2012
Where it all began
The Goth subculture is a contemporary trend found in many countries. It began in England during the early 1980s in the gothic rock scene, an offshoot of the post-punk genre. Its imagery indicates influences from the 19th century Gothic literature along with horror films. The term "Gothic" was used in the Renaissance to describe certain types of art and architecture in the Middle Ages, according to Shelley Esaak's Art History 101. In the 18th century the term "Gothic" morphed into a genre of literature that had elements of horror. Esther Lombardi's Classic Literature Guide describes the genre as "characterized by supernaturalism, melodrama, and sensationalism." In the late 20th century it morphed again into a style and subculture characterized by heavy eyeliner and all-black clothing.
Monday, 2 July 2012
THE CHASE.
The sudden silence was deafening.
Where is he? Her legs were shaking and her thoughts were scrambled, this was by far the worst part of the daily chase. The not knowing.
She daren't move, not an inch. Not yet. She had made that mistake too soon three months previously and her scarred right eye is a result of that story. Her breathing began to reduce, gradually returning to its normal state although somehow it was still too loud. She waited patiently with deep red blood trickling down her left cheek from the scratch he had engraved into her soft, pale skin.
Moments passed before she reached out to feel for the cold hard barrier between herself and outside; a routine she was too familiar with. She crept forward as a flash of white light burst through a tiny window above her. She froze immediately, her head jolting behind her, then in front then behind again. An expected roar of thunder shook the entire castle; this was a sign he was nearby. Where is he?
The lightning struck once more and she felt a chilling presence, one that had been her only company for as long as she could remember.
Where is he? Her legs were shaking and her thoughts were scrambled, this was by far the worst part of the daily chase. The not knowing.
She daren't move, not an inch. Not yet. She had made that mistake too soon three months previously and her scarred right eye is a result of that story. Her breathing began to reduce, gradually returning to its normal state although somehow it was still too loud. She waited patiently with deep red blood trickling down her left cheek from the scratch he had engraved into her soft, pale skin.
Moments passed before she reached out to feel for the cold hard barrier between herself and outside; a routine she was too familiar with. She crept forward as a flash of white light burst through a tiny window above her. She froze immediately, her head jolting behind her, then in front then behind again. An expected roar of thunder shook the entire castle; this was a sign he was nearby. Where is he?
The lightning struck once more and she felt a chilling presence, one that had been her only company for as long as she could remember.
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