My Creative Writing

"The End"

The struggle of writing a Narrative poem is a great one. Sometimes the mind just comes undone. This is a story about when writing took its toll upon a young soul. Charles locked himself in his room, shades drawn, lights out. His face was drawn together in a pout. 

He grabbed his hair and pulled. Charles's brain was blank. It was quite frank that he would NOT get this assignment done on time. All the while, he wouldn't stop until he found a rhyme.

He wouldn't eat, couldn't sleep. His brain was always on repeat. Find an end, find an end, find an end. It was this thought that would send him into a trance. It caused him to twist and jerk like there were ants in his pants.

Days passed, then weeks. Charles's brain had hit its peak. Insanity rang like a bell in his ear. This fact paralyzed his mom with fear. He locked the door, his muscles sore. From all of the violent shaking from his core. 

FIND AN END! FIND AN END! FIND AN END!

Voices screamed and bounced through his mind. It seemed he was running out of time. He sobbed and hit his head into the wall, trying to make the voices quit. This made the voices erupt into a laughing fit. He realized he couldn't take it anymore. His mind seemed to have "strolled out the door".

In a desperate attempt to make it all stop, he grabbed a chair and got on top. A rope was tied to the ceiling. In a sorrowful feeling, he wrapped it around his neck. He wore it like a gruesome necklace. He stepped off the chair and left himself breathless.

His mother unlocked the door, scared for her child's safety. She screamed "Lord help me!" She saw her only son hanging. On his arm, she saw a saying. Written in his own blood, were carved the words "THE END".