My Writing: Short Pieces Of Narrative

When I applied for Manchester Met University, I had to write a paragraph of Narrative from the point of view of three different characters. We had to write about them and fire. I chose to write about there being a fire and the characters are in different situations. In the end I went to Sheffield Hallam instead to Manchester, but I decided to share the narrative with you lovely people. 

A Business Man 

I watched as the flames consumed the building that I had lived in for 10 years; as all my years of hard work and determination was devoured by the furious flames that climbed higher and higher. I’m supposed to be organised, helpful, a leader, but here on the ground, watching my home burn to ash. I feel helpless and disorientated. All I see is despair and devastation. All I smell is burning and all I hear is the helpless cries of a young couple whose daughter is trapped in the ignited building. Their cries won’t help her, but I don’t tell them to be quiet. I just stare into the flames and hope that, that little girl is okay.

A Homeless Man 

I followed the sound of the fire engines, to see an apartment block on fire. I remember when fire had consumed the home I had once lived in. It was devastating. To see all these helpless people losing their homes.  The flames shone a fiery glow on the residents of their now ablaze home. They stood, looking from a distance; freezing, alone, scared, ejected involuntarily from their beds. The flames were fighting against the brave firemen, determined to live, to thrive, and to survive in this world. That’s when I see them, the young couple who always stopped to help me when they passed, crying out for their daughter. Their daughter, who was trapped in the claws of this devouring demon.

A Small Child 

The dragon came in the night, blowing hot fire into my home. I awoke scared, feeling the heat rising into my bedroom. I knew I had to escape, away from this monster who wants to take everything away from me and lock me away like the princess he used to guard before the prince stole her away. It’s scary.  I just want my mummy; I want to get far away from the monster. I hear the shouting, the screaming coming from the darkness. I want my mummy. Is she here, or has that beast taken her too?

© Sarah Kaye Hancock

My Writing:: The Angel Maker

He watched from a careful distance as his prey; a beautiful blonde woman in her mid-20’s turned off her bedroom light and was plunged into darkness. He smiled at himself; that was his cue. His prey would soon enter her deep sleep and he was ready to sneak into her poorly secured home and take her away from this world.

She is his fifth victim. The fifth blonde woman he had observed; stalked and planned to remove her from this world permanently. These girls, these women didn’t belong in this corrupt and harsh world. They needed to be safe, in a place where it was safe, and nothing could harm them. He had planned her death meticulously, he wanted to watch the life drain from her eyes, feel her life leave her as he sent her to safety.

Twenty minutes had passed since the light had been turned out. He left his hiding spot and crept along the quiet street towards his victim’s house. He knew his way around her house, where she slept unprotected and alone.

He walked silently through her house, towards her bedroom. He waited outside, and listened for signs of movement; there was none. When he was sure that she was in her deep slumber he entered her bedroom, and stared at her quiet sleeping body.

She had curled herself into the foetal position, her hair sprayed out onto her pillows. She was breathing steadily and had her TV playing quietly in the background. This lonely woman hated to sleep in silence; she hated silence but now she was going to sleep silent forever.

He moved; observing every detail to ensure that he didn’t disturb anything. Details are important. Nothing is to be disturbed. Everything has to remain exactly how his angel left them. He leaned over the sleeping woman and smiled before he wrapped his hands around her delicate pale neck. She awoke quickly, gasping for breath and frantically kicking, and clawing at his hands, trying to get out of his chokehold. It was no use, he stared into her eyes as he increased the pressure around her neck, constricting her airwaves and watching her eyes drain of life, until she went limp, lifeless. Asphyxiated.

Once he was sure his angel had left the world, he released her from his tight grasp. He positioned her, flat on her back, with her arms folded on her torso, her hair framing her face like a golden mane. His angel, sleeping forever. Finally free from this corrupt world and then he left her soulless body in the house she was once trapped in, another angel freed.

© Sarah Kaye Hancock