Page 79 - Bellfort Magazine Issue 8
P. 79
English Excellence! der boomed. A stormy storm was Fear is late darkness.
brewing. A tall, thin, muscular fig-
th
It was November 5 1996. A cold Fear is unknown followers.
ure in a long black, shaggy coat
and sombre evening in the city of Fear is someone watching your
was approaching us. He walked
Paris when compared to the every move.
calmly and his upturned collar
nights before. A raven haired fig-
covered his face. He looked as if Fear is your echoing voice.
ure emerged from the huddled
he was ready to solve any mystery Fear is loneliness in your empty
crowd of chattering and shivering
or crime that was about to be dis- room.
people, both local or foreign. She
cussed. The air smelt of crime and
adjusted her mid-back length hair Fear is the crunching and cracking
the storm was now here…
from out of her face and contin- of feet on a country path.
ued on her walk through the dim- Lois Thompson Fear is silence.
ly lit streets of the city. All of her
The day was grey and gloomy. Fear is everywhere…
attire was various shades of mon-
The rain pounded down like rocks.
ochromatic colours, almost
The wind was sharp; it cut the air
matching the dull mood she emit- Rachel Wilson
like a knife. The mood of the day
ted to the area around her and
was depressing, dark and dismal.
complimenting her pale features.
The sky was as dark as night;
Her deep, ocean blue eyes Fear is a pitch black night.
there was a sad, miserable and
seemed to scan the area around Fear is an isolated and abandoned
dreary atmosphere surrounding
her - trying to comb out anyone house.
the deserted city and it felt like it
suspicious walking by her or even
was closing in - like a hand around Fear is the skeleton fingers of a
on the other side of the street; bare tree.
a neck. The thunder rumbled loud-
though that proved to be a chal-
ly in the bleak and barren sky that Fear is the sound of twigs snap-
lenge with her smoke grey and
was devoid of life. The lightening ping.
fossil grey scarf blowing into her
flashed across the sky - lighting it
face no matter what she did to Fear is unnatural eyes watching
up like a torch during a search.
stop it. your every move.
Kate Lamont Fear is the unknown.
Alisha Getty
The door to the basement was Fear is voices echoing in the dis-
The woods were as dark and devi-
white with a small crack in the top tance.
ous as the night sky. The skinny,
left corner. Inside was an uncom- Fear is diseases threatening your
long trees were like scrawny little
fortable silence; darkness filled existence.
fingers ready to clasp around my
the room. However, there was a
neck and choke me to death. The Fear is allergies annoying you con-
beam of light shining onto the
once beautiful, green meadows stantly, as you think it’ll become
hardwood table. On the table lay
were now nothing but a waste something more.
six sharpened pencils in line with
land of hatred and sin. The dark Fear is a high-pitched scream.
each other. Everything sat in
path overflowed with weeds to
place, everything was tidy, every- Fear is everyone around you.
the point where you could only
thing was strange. A vintage
see dead grass. The thorn bushes
gramophone played a sweet, slow
were like the claws of a roaring Shaun Crawford
melody; almost a calming tune. It
lion ready to pierce through my
stopped mid-tune, as if… As if it
heart. It felt like I was in the
was being controlled. Except
depths of hell…
there was no-one there to control
Hannah Hill it. A stack of books was piled
neatly in the corner, all of them in
Grey waves rolled across the
French.
cloudy, misty sky as bolts of light-
78
ning cracked overhead and thun- Josie Carson
