Creative Writing Challenge. The winner this month is.

gsklb04

Congratulations to @frenchielove your our winner this month and what a price it was.

So thank you to everyone who entered and I hope you will be back for this months theme soon.

The Calm before The Storm. Is this months theme.

The winner will be the post with the most votes.

All comments must be on the link below this.

https://community.giffgaff.com/t5/General-Discussion/Creative-Writing-comments/td-p/20659659

ALL ENTRYS ON THIS POST PLEASE.

If you enter more than one entry your first entry will be the one counted. Voting finshes at midnight August 31st 2017.

Your entry must be 1,500 words or less, if you use another person piece please credit that person.

Thank you to everyone who get involved, and good luck to everyone.

geu42

The Calm Before the Storm...

It's not the moment that it happens,

It's the moment right before,

It's not the rain or crashing thunder,

It's the calm before the storm,

It's that feeling that you get,

As the sky begins to cry,

It's just you, the wind, and rain,

And you swear that you could fly,

The stormy clouds demand attention,

And the wind can't be ignored,

It's the love of building tension,

Just before the violent storm,

And if you've felt like this before,

Or if it's all that you dream of,

You'll know I'm not talking of rain,

But that I'm talking about love...

Author, Katherine Hump ©

vickyjakesmum

The Calm before the Storm.

I should really have known that something was wrong,

the days seem so somber, the nights last so long.

Try as I might I just cannot relax, with sofa nor chair not cheap paperback.

The silence is deafening, I'll cover my head, no solitude found, not even in bed.

I've been here before, yes many a time, just waiting, I'm trapped, no reason or rhyme.

It comes by the back door, never the front, like a Red Blazered horseman, the thrill of the hunt.

Thence once it's arrived, there's nowhere to run, no country or building, it's now that's it's won.

It creeps into my conscience, a stronghold of fear, I stop in my tracks, I've been hit by a spear. It tears through my lungs, my breath is too fast, I'm fighting to breath, from the shadow it's cast. I'm no longer au fait or equal to you. I surrender myself, as meek as a shrew.

My soul is destroyed, I've little fight left, my body's exhausted my mind needs to rest.

I slip into the noose, my feet on a chair, my mind is just clear, no noise or nightmare. I shuffle my feet, things darken and end. No more smiles or laughter no need to pretend.

halisha24

It was Friday night. In other words...Taco night!

Larsen put a bit too much jalapenos in his but it went down a treat.

That night as he lay in his bed, everything was silent. Like the calm before a storm...

Suddenly his stomach made monstrous noises. Pain filled his insides. He dashed to the bathroom but the door was jammed!

The other bathroom was down another flight of stairs. He wasn't even sure if he would make it but he held his breath and ran as fast as he could.

The toilet looked like a throne suddenly. As he let out a humongous explosion.

The storm was finally over.

HOPE everyone enjoyed my entry.

alicia_humphrey

The calm before the storm..

Thunderous grey clouds droop heavier and heavier out of the sky.. yet don't errupt.

The once soft, sweet, summers breeze picks up a little.. but isn't too ferocious.

People and animals alike search for shelter.. with a sense of excitement, not urgency.

The air is muggy, heavy, almost choking..

A single rain drop escapes from the clasp of the clouds. Tumbling down, gracefully landing with a "plip"

Everything is quite. Everything is still.

frenchielove

The aromatic smells of the steak casserole filled the air, she actually hummed a tune as she finished the hoovering. The kitchen floor had been scrubbed with bleach three times. Everything sparkled and shone. Catching a glimpse of herself in the hallway mirror, she tutted and dabbed at the split in her lip. The black eye had faded to yellow, more make up would hide that. After her shower, she made herself look how he liked. She pulled her hair into a messy chignon. She applied the perfume he bought her.

Everything was perfect, the apple pie was cooling on the side.

Ahhhh, she sighed, the calm before the storm. It was nice to remember how it had been when they first were together and after the wedding. He was gentle, caring, thoughtful. Yes, he liked everything a certain way, that was allright though, as long as she did it that way. It started with a slap, he was always so sorry, flowers, gifts. He started checking her phone. Banning her from seeing her friends. There had been many hospital visits, fallen down the stairs, walked into a door, trapped fingers in the car door.

Three years of torture and torment. But making her give up her job, that was heartbreaking. She loved being a primary school teacher. It was everything to her. Lying to her family was hard, they knew her too well. But he was ultra charming around them, kissing her on the cheek, holding her hand.

She jumped as she heard the car door slam. He was whistling, good sign. She greeted him in the hallway. Put away his shoes and jacket. Pulled out the dining room chair, nervously, she saw him checking the cutlery. All was ok, the calm before the storm.

The casserole was delicious. He cleaned his plate. She fetched the apple pie and cut a large slice. “Cream” he asked.

“I made custard” Ruth answered.

The dish hit the sideboard with a smash, broke and apple pie seeped down the front of it. He was up in a flash, had her by the hair, dragging her into the kitchen.

She never made a sound. The first punch smashed her nose, she went down like a ton of bricks. He was astride her, spittle splattering into her face as he shouted and raved. His hands were around her throat. She gasped, her fingers fumbled in her skirt pocket. She found the handle of the knife she had hidden there. It was surprisingly easy to stab it into his neck. The look of shock on his face was something she would never forget.

She scrambled out from under him, his hands were grasping the knife and the wound but blood was gushing, pouring out.

Calmly, she went into the hall and dialled 999

scrips49

The Calm Before the Storm

The road ahead was clear and straight with very little traffic. Behind the wheel, I turned and smiled at Francine as the wind blew her hair. She'd refused to wear a headscarf and I knew she'd be annoyed when we got to the party but the weather was too good to drive with the roof up.

"We don't get enough days like this," I said, as much to myself as my passenger who was ignoring me and watching the hedges speed past. I could sense her anger building and this was my way of trying to talk her down before her mood deteriorated further. It wasn't working, I knew because she sighed loudly and refused to join in the conversation. This was how it always began. Her anger would build throughout the rest of the evening and later when we’re alone, she’ll explode. I still have the bruises from the last time. I tried again to defuse the escalation of her temper.

"I wonder who’ll be at the party; what do you think?" Again my question was met with quiet displeasure. Aware of the intense silence I leaned over and switched the radio on. She immediately turned it off. I knew what was coming.

We arrived and I parked the car outside Jane and Peter’s house. Francine got out, slammed the car door shut and headed to their front door, without waiting for me. I checked I was parked okay and after removing the present from the boot followed her up the path. When I got in the party was in full swing and Francine was laughing, already with a drink in her hand, with a group of our friends. They had no idea who she really was. In those moments when the rage took over her when we were alone. I smiled at her but she didn’t even acknowledge me, she merely took the present from me and handed it to Jane and kissed her on both cheeks.

“Ten years together,” I heard her say to them as Peter removed the wrapping from our gift.

“I’m really sorry if it’s not what you want but we have the receipt if you want to change it for something more suitable. Never trust a man to buy a present.” She joked but scowled at me; nobody else saw. I managed to endure the party small talk and later when we were heading home, I got the silent treatment again. She was pretty drunk but rather than making her relax, the alcohol fuelled her anger. I’d been drinking orange juice all evening so I was perfectly sober. We arrived home and I went into the house and left her in the car. She’d fallen asleep and, knowing her mood, I didn’t want to antagonise her any more than I had already done.

I walked into the kitchen and switched the kettle on. As I waited for it to boil I ran some water in the bowl and began washing the things we had piled in the sink before going out. Then I heard the door open, slam against the wall and I cringed as I heard her shouting.

“Why did you leave me in the car?” I knew it best to keep quiet. Then she was behind me as I stood at the sink, my hands in the water. She hit me across the back of my head and then began pounding my back and shoulders; she was screaming at me and her rage was stepping up to a higher gear. I turned, without realising the carving knife was in my wet hand. As she made to punch me in the face I drove the knife hard into her chest. She screamed one last time and sunk to the floor, her face contorted in disbelief. All was quiet and I stood there shaking as I dialled 999. When the police arrived, they led me into another room and waited for a detective to arrive.

I was calm when I met Detective Inspector Storm and he took me away for questioning.

jedsam56

The Calm before the Storm

The surface of the loch was as smooth as a millpond. Overhead the sun shone relentlessly; the heat was oppressive as the two brothers bounced stones across the surface of the water. Jake, 15, and Adam, 13, had come up from the city with their parents the day before to stay in a wooden chalet by the loch. Dad, never able to completely escape his job as a company executive, was working the phone. Mum had gone in the car to the nearest town to buy a few supplies they had forgotten to bring.

Already, the boys were bored. "Come on Addie," said Jake, "Let’s see where this path leads to." They followed the overgrown footpath along the shore. As the brothers progressed, the trees and undergrowth became denser. Suddenly, they came across an old ramshackle boat shed, right on the water's edge. The door was hanging off its hinges and a lot of the timber cladding was rotten.

The temptation was irresistible, and the boys entered the shed. "Wow! Look Jake, a boat" The small wooden rowing boat was tethered to an iron ring on the wall and looked in much better condition than the shed in which it was housed. "This is more like it; let's take her for a paddle" said Jake. Without hesitation Jake untied the boat and together they were easily able to launch it and jump in. Neither of the brothers had done any rowing, but Jake reckoned it would be a piece of cake; he'd watched boat racing on television enough times.

Being bigger and stronger Jake took the oars. His efforts at rowing were ungainly, like a new-born foal taking its first steps. Always a quick learner at practical things, Jake's rowing soon improved and the small craft headed out into the loch. “Hey, look Jake. What’s that?” About fifty metres out a shiny black head could be seen trailing a V-shaped wake as a seal headed down the loch towards the Atlantic Ocean. All was calm and peaceful on the water. A pair of Buzzard hawks circled high above the fell which rose steeply behind the bordering treeline.

As the boat progressed further into the loch a derelict crofter’s cottage could be seen clearly on the far bank. “This is fun” said Jake “we’ve got a couple of hours till dinner, let’s row across the loch and have a look at that old ruin.” What the brothers didn’t realise is that distance can be deceptive, especially across an expanse of still water. What looked to be a few hundred metres was in fact nearly two kilometres distant.

After another ten minutes rowing Jake was growing tired and thirsty, so stopped for a rest. Looking round to see how much further to the far bank, Jake was startled to see that the old cottage had disappeared. The tide had turned and they were now being swept along by the strong current in the centre of the loch; they were drifting towards the ocean. Puzzled by this as well as their slow progress, Jake made a decision, “Perhaps we’d better head back now, it’s further than we thought.” No sooner had he said these words there was a rumble of thunder, followed by another. The sunshine was extinguished by a thickening bank of cloud rolling in from the West and large raindrops fell, slowly at first but soon becoming more persistent. The temperature dropped several degrees and a wind had sprung up raising small waves on the surface of the loch.

As the rain grew heavier the wind increased causing the small boat to pitch and roll on the surface. Visibility was now greatly reduced; the boys were soaked to the skin and in their panic they had lost their bearing on which bank to even head for. Jake’s rowing efforts were making virtually no difference now, as the increasing storm carried the boat towards its inevitable destination; the Atlantic Ocean.

.....................................................................

“Jeez, we’ll never get back to the docks in this, boys. Best we take shelter in the loch till she passes over” Hamish, the be-whiskered skipper of the small fishing boat said to his two crew members. The heavy swell was rocking their vessel perilously and this was the safest option. The plan was to pull into the mouth of the loch where it was sheltered from the worst of the storm and drop anchor until conditions improved.

It had been a gruelling two days at sea, and all three of them were disappointed not to be able to get straight back to the dock, unload their catch and get off home to their families for the weekend. The way things were looking they may have to anchor up for the night.

“Captn, captn!” shouted Joe, the younger member of his crew, with the best eyesight, “Take a look over there. What’s that in the water?” The visibility was poor and Hamish raised his binoculars to get a better view. “For the love of God!” he cried. “It’s a small dinghy adrift, and I swear there’s someone in it; grab the boat hooks lads we’re going to pull her in.”

Jake and Adam had given up trying to control their small boat and resigned themselves to fate. Huddled together to conserve body warmth, their feet and ankles were already under water; they were both becoming delirious due to fatigue, hypothermia and dehydration.

Having secured the dinghy alongside their fishing vessel the two crewmembers hoisted the semi-conscious teenagers on board, tried to make them comfortable in the crude cabin with blankets and hot drinks, while the skipper radioed the coastguard.

Jake and Adam made a full recovery and kept their school mates entertained for weeks with their adventurous tale.

dolly247

The Calm Before The Storm

It was such a lovely day. Not too hot for the dogs so they had had a good run.

I left them snoozing as I popped up to the shop to get them some more treats. Maybe a bottle of wine for myself. Black Tower. Hadn't treated myself for a while.

The air stilled. The clouds appeared to cease moving. The crickets fell silent mid chorus. Everything seemed to just stop.

The birds frozen in mid-flight.

It pierced my every fibre. It coursed right through me. The sound of metal scraping metal.

The two cars twisted together.

The Mother of the child who had run into the road swooped him up in her loving arms, checking he was uninjured. Reassuring both him and herself that he was ok.

People came rushing out of the shop to see what had happened, most of whom quickly reaching for their phones to call the emergency services. I did not. There wasn't time. I had to act fast.

I don't know how I found the strength yet I managed to pull the door off of one of the cars. Not just open, actually off! I tore away the seat belt and pulled the passenger to a safe distance. Shortly after, the paramedics arrived. They put me on a stretcher too which was absurd.

When I came to in the hospital, they informed me that I was the only person injured in the crash. I'd been hit as both vehicles swerved to avoid the wee boy who had chased his ball.

That's when I felt the pain hit me.

beffle

The Calm Before The Storm.

Silence. Peace. It's how I knew something was about to happen.

Those times when I would sit still and feel nothing. If my heart didn't quicken at the mere thought of something I had planned in the near future or my eyes didn't fill up with tears at a sad memory. When I was no longer affected by anything, it was the time to worry. Whoever I was, whoever I'd become... I changed. Something inside of me would snap and break. I wasn't me anymore. I was an imposter.

I looked over at his still sleeping frame. His breathing being the only sound in the entire house. I let my fingertips trace across his forehead, then his cheek. His face was dipped mostly in darkness, with only the streetlights illuminating his eyes and nose. I heard him mumble in his sleep, something about running and hiding. A bad dream. Little did he know, he was about to wake up to a nightmare.

secretessie

A day.

A week.

A month.

For once, they all tick by,

smoke-free.

It's strange.

The breath of relief that want to escape

holds on.

Unsure.

It could all be a trap.

Like the last time.

But, naively, comfort is allowed back into aching bones.

Old, dried tears are forgotten, washed out of cold bedsheets.

Once again the world floods with colour

and it lasts, pouring over tired eyes.

Fragments of heart and brain fuse into one happy painting,

whole again.

Pain is forgotten as the mind settles,

dormant-

waiting to erupt.

It hits.

Familiar, black tar reaches in

with its strangling limbs.

Colours flash and fade selling false hope

at every opportunity.

The art of fighting, which is like second nature now,

kicks in and the voices

disperse.

Leaving a moment of silence.

Only to consume the heart

with the shattering feeling of falling and

loneliness.

Days.

Weeks.

Months.

Until the next calm

and the next storm.

acetech

It was James and Annette's fifth wedding anniversary. They had decided to go for their favourite walk along the canal bringing a picnic. Though this time they also decided to spend the night in an abandoned lock keepers hut by the side of the canal.

Taking only the basics and a nice bottle of their favourite champagne they set off. The walk was lovely as expected, wandering hand in hand and stopping for the occasional kiss.

Lunch, although basic was amazing, overlooking the lock and the old stone built bridge beyond. Grabbing some rare alone time together out of their hectic lives feeding the loved up feeling between them that made them so strong as a couple.

Upon reaching the lock keepers hut the light was starting to fade, they went inside and it was dark with the door closed, and with just the moonlight coming through the hole where the window used to be.

Unperturbed, James lit 3 candles and placed them on the hearth in front of the fireplace, and laid out the picnic blanket which would also double for their bed for the night.

They weren't bothered about the small gap in the wall from the old window as it was a warm evening and they found the moonlight romantic, plus, there was no footpath that side so nobody could see in.

They sat chilling and chatting and cracked open the champagne and were having a great evening together. As the temperature started dropping James pinned an old towel over the hole from the window and they lit a small fire in the fireplace and snuggled under a blanket they had brought with them.

They were soon cosy again and settled down to sleep, laying on the picnic blanket using their jackets as pillows.

James woke with a start at around 3am, hearing what sounded like a young girls voice saying "he's coming". He looked around with his torch but couldn't see anybody so decided it must have been a strange dream.

The room was cold and the fire had almost burnt out, so before going back to sleep he added another couple of logs then settled back down.

A short while later James woke up again, this time the girl was screaming "I warned you, why didn't you listen?"

This time James shot up and pointed the torch straight at her, asking who she was and what she meant, the girl just pointed to behind where James was standing before literally disappearing in front of his eyes...

Now scared, James turned to see a large scruffy looking man standing over Annette wielding an axe, looking like he was about to strike!

With this, James lunged forward attempting to tackle the man and was shocked to pass straight through him!

Thinking he had seen another ghost he decided he would wake Annette and get the hell out of there...

It was only when James looked down and saw his already dismembered body that he realised...

The man was real and there was nothing that he could do!

cruxer

The moonlight filtered down through the clouds, casting silver light down upon the gently undulating waves of sea. Like silver velvet dancing above an abyssal, ever dark canyon. Fortune had been a sailor and a reaver all of his now considerably long life but the sea at night entranced him as no woman ever had, or could. He sighed. The slow breeze had been steadily picking for some time but even now unfurling the sails would be wasted effort. They wouldn't see land until morning and Fortune cursed himself, not for the first time since they'd set out, for a fool. It was common knowledge that Poseidon didn't like ships, no matter how big or small, to grace his oceans while moonlight bathed them and Fortune thought that he was pushing both his luck and the Sea Gods patience to the boundaries by continuing to sail through the night. But he had raided late into the season and now his hopes to return to the homeland before winters icy grip made the Sea God rage would turn to dust if he didn't sail through the nights. Poseidon was not one to suffer bitter winds. This would be Fortunes sixty-seventh winter, and he could feel it in his bones that something was not quite right as the wind suddenly died away. He strode down the gangway in between his rowers and reached the prow, he stretched a powerful arm up after licking his finger. Nothing. He stared out across the ocean that now resembled granite more than the sea. Still, deathly still. Fortune’s mortality was screaming at him in the silence and his gut feeling would not shift.

'Boys, bring your oars in!' He bellowed, his deep voice ringing with authority, a voice that had cowed kings. 'You'll all call me a madman if this proves fruitless, curse that damned seer! But I want all of you on the spare, now. Do it quickly.' The spare was a small boat that would barely carry his crew but he didn't much care. It had been lashed to the starboard side with leather and rope. The seer had told him his end and here he was facing it, but not at the cost of his mens lives. They glanced at him quizzically but set about their orders efficiently. He scratched at his long, thick, almost fully gray beard as he turned back to stare across the ocean. The seers words drifting back to him from down the years.

'When you stay too long, Reaver of the Sea, and time ceases across the black oceans, a god swims to drown your pride. Your impertinence will see you undone oh Fortune Seaborne, Reaver, Killer, Slayer.'

Of course, in the heady days of youth he'd killed the seer for her disrespect, but her words had burned into his mind, staying with him until at last, at the last, he now understood.

'Spares ready, cap'n,' came his first mates voice from behind him, snapping his wandering mind back to the present. 'Whats the orders, sir?'

'All the men on the boat, Leukon. Head southwest, if all is still calm in the morning, head back here and we'll continue our journey. I have a feeling that something isn't right. There is a small island roughly eleven leagues that way, you should reach it before sun up with time to spare if you row hard. Good luck to you, Leukon.'

‘Will you not be on the boat with us, sir?’ Asked Leukon, failing to keep his dismay and concern from his voice.

‘No, I will stay here and keep the boat company.’ Fortune replied with a wink and a lopsided grin that didn’t reach his eyes. Leukon saluted and joined the rest of the confused crew. Fortune listened as Leukon relayed the orders calmly and then watched his crew slowly row off to the southwest, picking up speed as the rowers settled into a rhythm. Fortune lowered himself onto the deck stretching out on the aged, foot worn planks of his small galley. Age had crept up on him quietly. His back ached and his shoulder was stiff. His leathery, deeply tanned skin had lost it’s tautness as the years had passed. His knee was starting to pain him in colder weathers, if it was colder than usual he had to try hard to conceal the limp that he had acquired. Age, he thought. No, not age, but time. Time was an enemy no man could fight and to a man used to winning in almost all aspects it was galling to say the least. He thought back to his younger years and the hotheaded youngster he had been. Life was stretched out before him then, age almost seemed like a choice. As if people had allowed themselves to grow decrepit and old. As if he were a young immortal that not even time could defeat. He’d felt invincible, empowered and entitled. He allowed himself a small chuckle. He hadn’t even realized that he was growing older, that his old enemy was slowly wearing him down. But now, right here in the eerie calm, he felt ancient. He remembered the battles he had been in, sea battles, land battles, sieges and raids. How much his life had Fortune wasted? What would he leave behind? A reputation as a feared reaver and peerless commander? A few Galleys and Triremes? Riches? He wouldn’t be remembered one hundred years from now, his name wouldn’t echo down through the ages, like that of Achillies or Hektor, Herackles or Ilos. He had sired no sons, he had no grandchildren to mourn his passing.

His mood darkening he sat up and peered over the port side. The sea was still oddly calm, the wind, non-existent. He stared across the Great Green and felt calmer. This was place and truth be told, he wouldn’t want to be anywhere else facing his end. He accepted his death and a strange tranquility settled upon and Fortune felt… At peace. Calmer than his turbulent nature deserved. Clouds covered the moon and a drop of rain fell from the sky and landed on his forehead. He turned his face to the sky, to the gods above him. He stretched out his arms, ignoring the twinge of pain in his shoulder, ignoring the dull ache of his back. Rain fell harder and harder, and Fortune laughed aloud, accepting the gods plan for him and with a certainty born of intuition knew that tonight was his last. The rain became torrential, the wind picking up slowly at first, but stronger as time went by. His sombre mood was still sitting heavy upon him but he no longer cared for it. He no longer worried. He smiled to sky and smiled to the gods.

The wind picked up again the sea becoming violent. The rain was lashing him, purifying him. He tore off his cloak and his Jerkin. Reveled in the torrent lashing his skin. Reveled in the sway of the boat as the ocean swell became stronger than his fears. He surged to the prow and his eyes went wide as he saw the great wall of water hurtling towards him in the distance. It was all encompassing and it rose so high into the air that it looked as if it touched the angry, volatile clouds that hung there, mercilessly thrashing the world with unforgiving rain. He screamed his fears at the wall of death in an inhuman roar. He placed one foot on the rail and bared his teeth as swung his great arm around the prow beam. The death wall was closer now and soon would be upon him, his boat pitched forward dramatically as the behemoth wave pulled water away from it and then crashed into the beginning of the rise of water that preceded the titanic tidal wave before it, sending salt water up in a spray that drenched him.

Fortune Seaborne, King of the Reavers, Master of the Sea, roared mighty defiance as he and his galley met the Tidal wave for the greatest and the final battle of his life.

Sorry the entry is so late into the competition, I recently joined, saw this challenge and couldn't resist. Hope you all enjoy, thanks for reading.