This is an in-class task where we were asked to selected two characters from two stories and create a whole new story. It was fun. I chose the characters from two short stories: “The Lottery” and “The Use of Force”.
Characters: Bill Hutchinson Jr. from “The Lottery” and Mathilda from “The Use Of Force”
I stopped after I spotted her sitting alone on the pavement. It was very late at night. There were a few people on the street, but they were so busy that they just walked pass and did not notice her.
Stepping closer, I began to study her. She has long blonde hair, her blue eyes focused on nothing. It seemed that she did not know where she came from or where she was going to do.
I walked up to her and said, “hey.”
“Hey,” she looked up at me, without a change of expression on her pale face.
“What are you doing here? I suppose normal people don’t sit in the middle of the street.” I tried to show my friendliness.
She shrugged, still with no facial expressions.
“Your name?” I jerked out of surprise when she asked.
“Bill. What is your name?”
“Mathilda.”
“Nice name,” I sat down beside her, “why are you here, Mathilda?”
“I was bored. That’s all.” She stared at her feet. I’ve learnt that when you move your sight like that, you’re lying. However, I did not want to point that out.
I was trying to come up with something more to say until she picked up a small rock on the side of the road. Then she lifted up her right arm and was about to throw it.
“No!” I grabbed her wrist in extreme fear. The stone fell onto the ground.
“What!” This was the moment that her face showed an emotion for the first time. Her face was getting red, her eyes opened wide with hostility. She clenched my arm hard and started groaning.
Her roaring anger was shocking. I should have apologized for being rude but the pressure and pain on my arm drove me away from my sanity. I used my greatest force to pull her away. She fell down.
“Ah�K I’m sorry.” I stuttered in bewilderment.
Suddenly, she jumped up and punched my stomach non-stop. I wanted to fight back but I hesitated when I noticed her crying. She was crying and fighting desperately, like every victim in the ritual in June in my home village, like my mother when she had been stoned to death ten years ago.
Mathillda’s face, my mother’s face, the victim’s faces… I saw all of them, spinning in my mind. They made me dizzy. I fell on my knees and warm tears ran down my cheeks.
“Sorry.” Mathilda stopped hitting me.
“I’m sorry for all this.” I told her without looking up at her, “I’ve… a phobia.”
“Is it that rock?”
I nodded. “My mother was stoned to death.”
She sat down again and wiped away the tears on her face, “I’m sorry.”
“It isn’t your fault. I should not have touched you in the first place.”
“No, not your fault either.” She shook her head and shrugged, “it is my phobia.”
“Of what?”
“Erm… violence.”
I raised my reddened arm and joked, “like you’re not good at it.”
She smiled and sighed before she turned away to gaze at the dark sky, which was calm and peaceful.
I kind of like how this turned out. 7 April 2005
Acts of Violence
This is an in-class task where we were asked to selected two characters from two stories and create a whole new story. It was fun. I chose the characters from two short stories: “The Lottery” and “The Use of Force”.
Characters: Bill Hutchinson Jr. from “The Lottery” and Mathilda from “The Use Of Force”
I stopped after I spotted her sitting alone on the pavement. It was very late at night. There were a few people on the street, but they were so busy that they just walked pass and did not notice her.
Stepping closer, I began to study her. She has long blonde hair, her blue eyes focused on nothing. It seemed that she did not know where she came from or where she was going to do.
I walked up to her and said, “hey.”
“Hey,” she looked up at me, without a change of expression on her pale face.
“What are you doing here? I suppose normal people don’t sit in the middle of the street.” I tried to show my friendliness.
She shrugged, still with no facial expressions.
“Your name?” I jerked out of surprise when she asked.
“Bill. What is your name?”
“Mathilda.”
“Nice name,” I sat down beside her, “why are you here, Mathilda?”
“I was bored. That’s all.” She stared at her feet. I’ve learnt that when you move your sight like that, you’re lying. However, I did not want to point that out.
I was trying to come up with something more to say until she picked up a small rock on the side of the road. Then she lifted up her right arm and was about to throw it.
“No!” I grabbed her wrist in extreme fear. The stone fell onto the ground.
“What!” This was the moment that her face showed an emotion for the first time. Her face was getting red, her eyes opened wide with hostility. She clenched my arm hard and started groaning.
Her roaring anger was shocking. I should have apologized for being rude but the pressure and pain on my arm drove me away from my sanity. I used my greatest force to pull her away. She fell down.
“Ah�K I’m sorry.” I stuttered in bewilderment.
Suddenly, she jumped up and punched my stomach non-stop. I wanted to fight back but I hesitated when I noticed her crying. She was crying and fighting desperately, like every victim in the ritual in June in my home village, like my mother when she had been stoned to death ten years ago.
Mathillda’s face, my mother’s face, the victim’s faces… I saw all of them, spinning in my mind. They made me dizzy. I fell on my knees and warm tears ran down my cheeks.
“Sorry.” Mathilda stopped hitting me.
“I’m sorry for all this.” I told her without looking up at her, “I’ve… a phobia.”
“Is it that rock?”
I nodded. “My mother was stoned to death.”
She sat down again and wiped away the tears on her face, “I’m sorry.”
“It isn’t your fault. I should not have touched you in the first place.”
“No, not your fault either.” She shook her head and shrugged, “it is my phobia.”
“Of what?”
“Erm… violence.”
I raised my reddened arm and joked, “like you’re not good at it.”
She smiled and sighed before she turned away to gaze at the dark sky, which was calm and peaceful.
I kind of like how this turned out. 7 April 2005