"The Fall of the House of Usher" Part 2

I had to write the next chapter of a piece of literature and I chose "The Fall of the House of Usher" by Edgar Allan Poe.

            I turned and sped down the path away from the empty space where the house had resided.  I stumbled once; catching myself before I fell to the dark, damp soil.  A depressing mist slightly blanketing my vision, I failed to notice the root sticking out of the ground.  My foot caught in it and I collapsed to my hands and knees, a splinter of wood puncturing my palm.  I scrambled to my feet and continued in a dead sprint from the gloomy forest.  I caught a hint of footfalls echoing mine at half the tempo.  Pausing, I spun around in search of the source and found nothing.  I spun again and resumed my run at a somewhat slower pace, then heard the snap of twigs.  I whirled around again and glimpsed movement, as of something or someone getting closer.  Roderick appeared from the fog and let out a pained, muted howl.  I joined in with my own shout of terror and Roderick vanished as he got nearer.  I shakily turned and continued my journey home.

            Upon arriving home, I pushed open the door I locked before my journey to the Usher house.  The latch no longer worked.  A shiver traveled up and down my spine as the temperature inside made contact with my skin.  I closed the door behind me and proceeded to the kitchen, halting suddenly as a low, melancholy voice pervaded my ears.  I cautiously crept forward and the voice grew louder.  It was none other than the voice of Roderick Usher.  An empty space filled the kitchen and the words slurred into a continuous moan.  I tried to rationalize this along with the other strange occurrences in the forest.  No doubt these hallucinations must come from a lack of sleep and due to stress.

            I started toward the bathroom so that I could wash away the dirt and grime that had slowly accumulated throughout the day.  Entering through the deteriorating wooden door, I tromped over to the sink.  I turned the knob for the faucet, somewhat cool water rushing out.  I glanced at the mirror and a scream escaped my mouth as my fist involuntarily shot at the reflection, shattering the mirror.  Madeline still stood, staring at me with dead eyes through the broken mirror.  Small shards of glass stuck in my hand and blood ran with water, creating a waterfall of a dim red.  I pulled the glass shards from my knuckles, trembling ever so slightly with the clawing pain.

            I finished pulling the mirror bits from my hand and went into the kitchen for a cloth.  Placing the cloth over my wound, I mentally scolded myself for such strange and reckless behavior.  “You’re acting this way due to sleep deprivation,” I told myself.  “Just get some rest and tomorrow all will be well again.”  Arriving at that conclusion, I moved my leaden feet to my cot.  My eyes closed eagerly.

            Footsteps drifted into my subconscious.  My eyes snapped open, wearily alert.  Lady Madeline stood at the foot of my bed and Roderick stared at me in a daze from my side.  I shouted and got to my feet, evading the arms that reached for me in some strange desperation.  I tripped over something that did not exist.  The hands of the Ushers reached for me, claiming victory over my defenseless body.

            I awoke, strapped to a weighted chair.  Water lapped at my knees, longing for the taste of every part of me not yet consumed by it.  The air around me contained no scent, not even the scent of the water rising ever so slowly.  Surely I could somehow escape.  I could think of no worse death than one of such hopelessness, such helplessness.  I thought of the Ushers.  They shared this death with me.  They became trapped with no hope to escape.  They knew death would come for them and they knew they could not do a thing about it.  Although I sat with Roderick until the end, Roderick sat alone.  He sat in wait for Madeline.  Did I wait for anyone?  I did not.  The icy water caressed my chin and climbed up to my lips.  The tender kiss of frozen death offered some comfort along with the dread of dying.  The water consumed the rest of me that remained above it.  I exhaled unseen bubbles.  I inhaled death.