Nina Tavernier

Creative Writing 1

Ill-Advised Moment

A Walk in the Dark

            The wind brushed by my face, sliding past my cold red cheeks. The trees wove back and forth, whispering to me, “Nina get home, and get out of here, Nina Nina…” Those trees were right, I wasn’t supposed to be out here; in fact what was I doing out here?

60 minutes ago…

            My back pocket buzzed as my hand quickly reached for the cell phone, a second nature instinct. It was a text message from Ashley asking me to sleep over that night. Of course I said yes, I mean it would be social suicide to say no and instead waste another night with my boyfriend, Netflix. Ashley was someone you couldn’t say no to. When I was young, she was the Regina George of the Plastics and I was the girl following behind that forgot to wear pink that Wednesday. Therefore I would be going to that sleepover.

            I got to Ashley’s house at the exact time she told me to be there, my blanket in hand, hair dripping wet, in the cutest pajamas I could find. We sat in the basement struggling to find things to talk about. The awkwardness went on as I twirled my fingers, picking at the lint of my cotton pajama pants. We finally put in a movie, ending some of the dreadful stares and small talk on a road to absolutely nowhere. I was just happy to be there but out of the corner of my eye I could see Ashley, her eyes squinted, and her body slouched in the seat. She on the other hand wasn’t having as much fun as I.

            A part of me could sense that Ashley was staring at me for a quite a while, pondering whether or not she should speak.

            “You wanna go on a walk?” she questions enthusiastically.

            “What do you mean go on a walk, like where?” I replied dazed and confused.

            “You know like go sneak out and walk around town, I do it all the time.”

            “You do it by yourself, this late, at twelve o clock at night?”

            “Nins, trust me it’s not bad at all.”

            I agreed and decided to let my guard down, to just go with it, disregarding my mother’s rules and assumption that “nothing good ever happens after midnight.” Tonight I was going out to see for myself.

            I stepped outside; the air was cold and thick, blowing through my thin fur coat. It was silent; the sound of each prick of my sneaker sticking to the gravel road was loud and piercing. I could see my breath swirl out my mouth like a puff of smoke in a dark room, only to be sucked back up. The darkness surrounded us, making only the mere shadow of Ashley beside me and the trees standing tall on the side of the road visible. We were completely alone.

            I could hear Ashley’s high pitched voice in the background, talking of a boy she liked in one of her classes, probably the third boy this week. Her voice sounded as if she was miles away and eventually faded from my mind; her lips moved with no sound. I was so focused on how nervous I was I too began to fade away from where I was and what was happening. My body was stiff, almost as if my blood had froze and my brain no longer connected to the rest of my body. The sound of my own heart beating, pulsating against my chest drew louder and louder. It was a deep bass drum inside of me. I kept close to Ashley, my shoulder almost grazing her’s. I wanted to go home.

            There were train tracks up ahead, Ashley ran and leaped over them. I on the other hand, after standing on the other side looking both ways to ensure no train was coming, tentatively tip-toed over them. It became harder to breath almost as if I were winded after running a long race. Couldn’t we just turn around and go home? It seemed like we were miles away from her house. Ashley and I kept walking as I stayed silent; crossing into foreign yards in strange neighborhoods.  Every few minutes Ashley would ask if I was ok. Every time I would quickly reply yes and we would walk further into the night.

            I heard a noise—the sound of a stomach rumbling then the click of a wet tongue. The noise was overbearing and unrecognizable, coming at me in multiples.

            “What is that!” I screamed while my hands shook. Sweat ran down my face but my body stayed cold. The hair on the back of my neck stood up and my knees locked.

            “Calm down it’s just the frogs; this is a back road, no one ever comes down here,” she answered.

            I walked forward, trying to ignore the noises, frustration in my eyes. I couldn’t ignore the next sound—the sound of a car. The engine roared and purred. The headlights peaked through the dark of the night, piercing through the thickness of the low fog. The music of the car grew louder and we knew then it was coming in our direction. Ashley was no longer by my side. Every voice in my head told me to move, to run. I didn’t, I couldn’t. My feet were taped to the ground, my hands stuck by my side. My heart pounded, I could feel the blood pumping around my body faster, the input of oxygen into my lungs increasing. The lights were blinding and the only thing visible to me. I could hear the car stopping, each tread scraping across the stoned road.

             Hands wrapped around my waste and I was drug towards the side of the road. I couldn’t see who it was, but the mellow smell of coconut and lemon reminded me that it was only Ashley. She pushed me into the side woods and my lip scrapes the side of a pointed branch. Blood drips into the side of my mouth, the taste of metal and bitterness. A tear slides down the side of my cheek and into my mouth, the taste of salt. The car door opens and two men get out, one with a long beard and the other, a shaggy haircut. The two strange figures walked towards the bush, cursing and stumbling, slurring every word they said. They were obviously severely intoxicated. One man gets back in the car appearing to be laughing, convinced that he didn’t see anything, that they had lost their minds. The other seeming less convinced searched further into the branches, and then stopped. His foot touches mine, he was so close I could reach out and touch the red hairs of his mustache. His breath reeks of alcohol and cigarettes. It is silent for what seems like too long for him not to notice me, but he turns and walks back to the car.  The accelerator roars and the car speeds off. 

            Ashley sprints off and I follow in her footsteps. We finally arrive at her blue painted porch, and it was the most content feeling in the world to be on those wooden steps. Those two men could have done anything to us two young girls, especially being intoxicated. We never spoke of the incident again but I knew what I did wrong reflecting on it myself—I followed the crowd rather than my heart, which is never a safe move.




What i thought i did well

I thought in this paper, i did a great job of incoorporating all the five sentences and placing purposeful detail throughout the paper that developed each character. I thought i made a variety of syntax choice, and also did a well job of implying elevated diction. I thought that i did a nice job of conveying the story, leaving the reader feel as if they were in the story with an important take home message