Writing and Publishing (week 2)

Writing classes were held on Tuesday and this is another extract that I wrote in an hour. It was much harder this time because I was trying to write horror, which is a genre I haven’t done before. I’m thinking I’m better with genres such as fantasy, science fiction etc.
BUT! Here it is anyway!

I don’t like it but tell me what you think!

Drowning is often described as a peaceful death. Blue images surround you as your lungs give way and it’s just a slow motion ride to the bottom. Its quiet and nobody can touch you anymore. My uncle always told me that if he were to die a perfect death, to drown him in a river. He made me promise I would, if the topic of death was ever bought up again. I said my perfect death would be to wake from a peaceful sleep, wake up my wife and kiss her goodbye, before lying back on the bed and quietly passing. He said that was a silly way to die and that everybody should die alone. There is no need to say goodbye, when you’re always with the people you love
“Don’t ever think that death is the last thing that happens to you. It’s just the beginning of change. A new life.” My uncle never believed in heaven. Maybe that’s why, when he finally died my hands never felt dry again, and he never really left me alone…

* * *

My relationship with my uncle was always different compared to other families. Even my own family found it weird that I spent more time with him than my own father. Probably because my father and I were nothing alike and my uncle never seemed to mind me letting myself into his house to watch TV with him, play chess, and discuss my day at school. I never liked to tell my father about my time at school because he worked so hard to put me in the best school there is. Alabaster college was an affluent school that I didn’t belong to, yet a school my father wanted me to.
When my auntie died my uncle could no longer fend for himself. He lost all the will to live his life properly and slowly begun to sink into a slimy bile of depression. At this stage in his life, the topic of death was prominent in our afternoon conversations after school. While doing my homework as he cooked baked beans on the stove he would often recite his “fun facts” like
“Drowning is often described as a peaceful death…”
When walking to his house one afternoon I could see him sitting on his roof. I didn’t go to school for a week after he broke his ankle falling on it.
Another day I walked in on him standing in the living room with a gun to his head. I didn’t sleep from that day forward.
It soon became obvious that my uncle couldn’t be left alone anymore. I offered to stay in the house with him until he got some help…or found another way while I wasn’t looking. The day I moved in was the day I had to promise I would, if the topic of death was ever bought up again.
After a year of living with him he seemed to improve and I started to believe that my presence was helping him get over the death of the person he loved. One night when he was singing in the kitchen while washing up and I was finishing my homework he sung out
“I might have a bath before I sleep tonight Jimmy. Could you start running the water?” and I knew then, this was the night…

Jinx xx