My Weekly Summary

This week was definitely a learning experience for me. Having never trying to write a horror story before, I found myself in a difficult place while doing the main part of this week’s assignment. I’m not a huge fan of horror in the first place. Suspenseful movies rarely scare me and I refuse to watch anything with heavy gore (except for The Evil Dead 2). However, I learned that a great part of learning to create horror is understanding atmosphere and what it is that truly frightens people. Usually, that means the supernatural or things that are simply beyond one’s control. Perhaps even a sense of helplessness.

But on the bright side, the easier side of this week was setting up all of the social media accounts (I had like half of them already set up). Next week, I’d like to try my hand at better understanding how to write whatever story we have to next. Other than that, this has been a treat so far and I look forward to the rest.

Fasten your socks, kids…

In Late November, a night most would have called innocuous unfortunately became something much worse. A young man, Thomas Rainier, from a small town in southern Virginia, had finished another shift at his mundane job. Accounting. He’d never had a passion for it but, as a recent college graduate, sought to pay off his loans as soon as possible. An “average joe,” he’d call himself, Thomas viewed most things as “uneventful.” He was 5’10”, wore relaxed fit clothing that was neither too fitting nor too loose, and had mussy, dark hair that he kept swept to one side at all times. To the ordinary on-looker, there wasn’t a single remarkable thing about Thomas. But upon closer inspection, one would be very, very surprised.

As he parked his car into his driveway as uneventfully as ever, Thomas stopped once he’d turned the car off. It was always a bit small for him but, even then, it felt more cramped. Condensation was beginning to form on the windows and he wrote it off as humidity. He hadn’t gone through four years at college without learning to question a few things here and there but in the back of his mind, he already knew what was happening. He fumbled around for his keys and eventually opened the garage door. Stepping through the kitchen, Thomas paused. There was the same humidity but this time, it felt more concentrated. There was a puddle lying on his counter next to the coffee maker just waiting to cause an accident. Rushing to clean up the mess, he reached out for it and felt a shock– some of the water had made it towards the power cord. It burned a small circle onto the palm of his right hand. The smell of searing skin nauseated him. A little shaken, but mostly fine, Thomas headed toward his bathroom’s medicine cabinet to rub a little ointment on the wound on his hand. The lights flickered on and off and there was a creaking sound from the un-oiled hinges of the cabinet’s mirror. Closing the window, Thomas’ burn continued to hurt him but he was more concerned with what now faced him.


It was the visage of a woman whose face was somewhat deteriorated. He knew this face, or what was left of it, well. This spirit had been haunting him for the past few years, six to be precise. Immediately after his father’s death, he’d inherited his “curse.” All the while the spirit stared on at Thomas, a faint screaming could be heard. It was unnerving and sent a chill down his spine in waves. Feeling a numbness wash over him, he fought through it and made his way to the couch. Thomas hoped that watching some TV would calm him down. Reaching for the remote, he felt the woman’s presence again as she seemed to reach through him. Thomas knew that the woman was the spurned lover of his great-grandfather and an evil woman. She swore vengeance upon him and his household when she was left with a child and no support. Years after Thomas’ great-grandfathered denounced her publicly, she began to practice outright witchcraft in an attempt to wreak havoc upon his life, even offering her newborn son as sacrifice to further her goals. Though she’d never acted out against the Rainier men, they always knew she was there– watching, waiting… and for some reason, she seemed to have had enough. Thomas lived a somewhat solitary life and felt no especial happiness throughout any part of it. He never wished to die but he was indifferent to the idea of it. He felt that he could never truly object to something he would never feel. And as he sat, shivering in his chair, the woman’s form– fading into and out of ethereal space– drew closer. Perhaps she felt as though his misery wasn’t yet sufficient, that he hadn’t felt enough pain. She reached her hand into him and paused, a blank stare seemingly filling the room. In what felt like seconds, there was a surge of blood that sprang from Thomas’ chest, yet there was no wound. Whether or not it was his, none could tell. He choked for a while, fading into unconsciousness and feeling a sharp pain surge through his chest and with one or two final breaths, he collapsed. The woman’s corpse made its way back into the bathroom and stood vigil inside the mirror, seemingly glad that her job had been done.

A bit about myself…

I’m a senior here at UMW, ready/(un)prepared/excited/scared for the year to come. I’d say I’m easy to get along with but I mostly just make stupid jokes and pretend that I don’t like people. I’ve been told I’m easy to see through, though, so…

I like JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure, poetry, contemplating life’s finest mysteries (how socks go missing in the dryer, existentialism, that sort of stuff). I’m horribly forgetful, too, so I can’t remember much about my interests unless asked.