Mood Analysis in The Raven

Imagine having so much sadness built up inside you, that it eventually caused you to go insane. Being haunted by the fact that your loved one is no longer there. In Edgar Allen Poe's poem, The Raven, he uses mood to explain what happened to a man after the lost of his wife, Lenore. A raven (symbol of death) appears above his chamber door. As the bird keeps repeating 'nevermore' , the man suddenly smells the perfume of his wife and all these memories slap him in the face causing the pain he once had to explode inside of him 

Theme Analysis

The Lottery, is a suspenseful story

that is based on an unnamed town where everyone is living happily, and they're all friendly with eachother. However, they have this thing once a year called the "lottery". The lottery won't bring you anything good though, only death. It's a tradition where you chose someone to kill for harvest. Shirley Jackson uses tone and imagery to prove that we humans, are completely selfish and opportunistic. We humans do things that benifit only ourselves. If it benifits us, we don't even question or think about the consequences that could/will happen. Humans are full of greed. We will stomp on who and whatever to get what we want. Just like the story, they were willing to throw stones at someone they were just talking to 5 minutes ago because of the "tradition". 

Short Story (Horror)

It was a dark story night, water gushed from the sky and the wind whistled through the leafy trees. Arabella was sitting sitting at the end of the couch as the light of the tv reflected on her pale freckled face. Arabella was a skinny, fragile girl. She was the typed of girl that always tried her best, but wasn't good enough; no one liked her at school. She always kept to herself and tried to distance herself from people. The long red haired girl was scared of everything; the dark, bugs, birds, being alone, heights, people, and an infinity of other things. She could never conquer them, so she always tried to watched scary movies. She thought, if she couldn't finish a stupid movie, how could she overcome the rest of her fears? She tried watching The Grudge this time.  Arabella thought that was the only way she could let herself free. As the movie kept playing, the distant sound of heels came closer and closer, so could the flowery scented perfume. It was her mother. Trailing behind her was her father, they were both dolled up; and Arabella knew that meant they weren't going to be home. She pauses the movie, her heart began to beat faster with the thought of being alone.

"W-where are you guys going?"

"Oh, well your father and I are going to your aunt's wedding," She said elegantly.

"You didn't tell me... I wanna g-" 

"It's too late honey, we don't have enough time to get you a dress and all, so-" 

"But I don't wanna stay h-" 

"Stop" her father jumped in, rolling his

eyes after shaking his head, "We're so tired of your excuses; always ruining things for us because you can't get over your 'fears'. You're 13 for crying out loud! Don't you think it's time to start acting your age?" This was the first time her father spoke about how he felt about her and everyone was speechless. The room was dead silent before he stormed off, slamming the door behind him. 

"... Uh- you'll be asleep by the time we get home, see you in the morning." She said while walking out the door. The words still stung Arabella's heart. After sitting there for a while processing what had just happened, she curled back up into the corner, knees over her chest, and hit play on the remote. Everything was going fine until, the tv shut off. The lights in the living room turned off; one by one. 

"What in the world." She whispered to herself, panicking. She shuffled through the drawer next to the couch and grabbed a box of matches. Arabella slipped on her coat and opened the garage, walking towards to the electricity box; she opened it to find out it was flooded with rain and that it wouldn't be fixed till her parents got home. Great. She slammed the cover of the box shut and trudged back inside, closing the garage. As she was about to make her way upstairs, She heard a sharp scratching noise. It was as if someone was clawing against the wall. Arabella followed the sound until it got closer and it lead her back to the garage. Maybe an animal slipped in when I was out, she tried to persuade herself. 

"H-hello-o?" She stuttered, "Is anyone out here?" She flicked on the light switch. Her body tensed and froze when she saw it. Standing in front of Arabella, was what looked like a girl in a white gown. The girl had long black sleek hair that went down to her knees, exposing no part of her face. She was The Grudge. A shriek escaped Arabella's mouth and at the same exact moment, The Grudge growled and ran towards Arabella. Arabella was still in shock but when she realized she was being chased by the grudge, she literally ran for her life. Arabella ran up the stairs, 2 at a time, until The Grudge caught up to her. It grabbed her left ankle and pulled her down the stairs. Arabella cried for help, she couldn't let this happen. 'overcome your fear' she said in her head, before kicking the monster with her right foot; knocking it out. It layed unconscious somewhere below the stairs in the darkness. Arabella ran for safety, looking for somehwhere to hide until her parents got back. She had an idea. Arabella ran to her room, and locked herself in the closet. It was so quiet you should hear hoe fast her heart was beating, and it beated vigorously. She leaned her head onto the side and rested a little bit. Almost falling asleep, before she heard weird noises. They were hard to explain; it sounded like something was trying to get through the wall, and something was rubbing against eachother. She pulled out the box of matches from her pocket. She slid the stick quickly on the back only to find there bugs all sorts and sizes, and birds huddled up flapping their wings. Her fears. She screamed from the top of her lungs as she saw that the bugs were nibbling on her feet. The match wet out, and everything was pitch black again. She lit up another one. 'Conquer your fears' she whisperd to herself, reaching for the bat on the shelf above the row of coats. Panting, Arabella swung until she couldn't swing anymore, the room was lifeless and covered in blood. When she had enough time to catch her breath back, she ran to the only place that she could hide until her parents got home; her parents room.  She ran into the room, and shut the door behind her, leaning her back on the door in relief. Only to realize she wasn't the only person in the room.  The room no longer looked like what once was her parents room, but it was her english class. The desks were in rows filled with her classmates while her teacher stood next to her parents. 

"Mom, dad, y-you got to help me!" She sobbed, "All these things are happening and I-I don't kn-"

Her father pushed her away lightly as the 3 of them back away from Arabella.

"Wh-" 

"Grow up." Her father said flatly. 

"Oh Arabella, it's like you want to disappoint us." Her mother added, ashamed. 

"What are you talkinng about?" 

"And you question why everyone picks on you," Her teacher slurred. 

Arabella turned around to see her classmates whispering and giggling about her, 

"She's ugly." 

"Loner."

"Anorexic." 

"Bones." 

"STOP!" She sobbed 

'Conquer your fears' her mind kept repeating to her.

"I can't, I cant." holding her hand to her face. This was it. This was the one fear she couldn't get over; being judged and unliked by everyone, not having anyone to love her. 

Arabella walked to the balcony in her parents room, she opened the latch and shoved the door open. The cold air and raindrops slapped her in the face. Arabella walked towards the edge of the balcony and pulled her legs over the fence one by one, and sat there for a while. She starred at the ground. 

"I'm sorry." she said, with hurt in her voice before she fell gracefully down the 2 stories. Arabella was gone.

She layed there in a mental hospital that day. The heart monitor that was once active, became a straight line. She was dead. They say that Arabella had a heart attack in her sleep. It seems that her dream was so bad, that her heart couldn't take it. Her fears took over. 

Chapter 2, Character Continuation

It was a while since Payasa had been in rehab. She's been doing okay I guess, she won't let anyone visit her though. I went once and she looked crazier and paler then usual. Her eyes were no longer glassy for she hadn't been high in forever. But she still had that blank expression on her face. The expression someone has when everything inside them was broken. A few months had passed and by then, was the time they'd release Payasa. Her brother, Wilo, and I decided to pick her up that day. When we arrived, we waited for her outside of the rehab center. She walked nonchalantly toward us in her baggy black sweatpants and white t-shirt, still expressionless. The door handle clicked as she opened the door, then she plumped down. The car ride home was silent, no one anything till we were halfway home.
"Take me to the hardware shop." Payasa requested firmly.
"No." Wilo said staring at the road.
"Now."

"I SAID NO."

"WILO JUST TAKE ME,"
 Our bodies flew forward, Wilo had stomped on the brakes.
"If you wanna go, then go. When you get caught up again, don't come running back."
"Shut up Wilo, it's my life. Don't worry though, you'll get over it... Eventually." She got out and slammed the door purposely. Payasa'a appearance got smaller by every step she took.
"Are you kidding me? She literally just got out today,"
"And? You know how Payasa is, she don't listen to no one."
I felt my temper rising the longer I looked at Wilo with his careless expression. Even though we weren't together, I still cared about her. 
"Look Wilo, if you're not going to do anything, I will."
"Enlighten me."
I unbuckled my seat beat vigorously and hopped out. The door wasn't even halfway closed and Wilo zoomed off.
I stood there for a while, circling around to see if she was anywhere in sight. I knew the area though, I was in the neighborhood I used to live in when I was a kid. I knew there was shops a few blocks away, a hardware store to be specific. I asked people around me if they saw a girl that passed by, all I got were dirty looks and no's. I kept walking until I heard a familiar sound. It was the cracking sound a trash bag made, I cuffed my left ear with my hand and followed it until the sound got closer and closer. I found what I was looking for. I saw Payasa crouching behind a broken down car, next to a spray paint can. She held the bag to her face, deep inhaling and exhaling the fumes, removing the bag from her face after every whiff with a smile of satisfaction on her face. I stood there, watching her for a little bit. How could someone be this damaged? I questioned myself. I mean, like I knew I was bad, but I wasn't that bad. Her eyes widened and met with mine, she imediately tried to race away from me, but I caught up and grabbed her wrist. We ended up infront of the shops, parallel from the street where cars sped by. I snatched the bag away from her. 
"Why?" I asked her, she knew what I was talking about.
"You've known me forever, don't act like you don't. You know that I'm always gonna be like this, and I can't help it." She gritted her teeth together as a tear ran down her face. Payasa never let anyone see her cry. I hugged her to try to comfort her but she pulled away.
"I don't want your pity." She slurred at me as she snatched the bag from my hand.
"But-" 
Before I could finish my sentence she was already starting to walk across the street. And that was the last thing Payasa ever said to me. That day when she crossed, some dude sped through the red light and hit her. Doctors said she would be in a coma and that she'd be better soon, but I knew that wasn't the truth. It wasn't. I'd tell myself that I'd get over it eventually, but I couldn't. Payasa was gone.

Mastering Narration

  Her name was Alma. She wore a blue beanie, red jacket, and brown gloves. She had blue eyes and blonde hair. One morning while the light snowflakes fell gracefully from the sky, she decided to take a walk through the little shops in her town. She skipped around until she reached the wall on the left side, it was covered with kids name from top to bottom. Alma pulled out a white piece of chalk and her eyes darted around for space for where she could write her name, then she found it. 

  As her hand slid across the wall writing "Alma", she heard something behind her. She looked back confused to find that there wasn't anyone there. But what caught her eye was the doll in the shop on the other side. However it didn't look like one of those typical shops; there were two lights on the top that looked like beady eyes and the window was shaped like a mouth with sharp teeth, she did not notice this though. Alma walked over and was fixated with amazement, it looked exactly like her; blue eyed, blonde haired, and wore a red jacket with a blue beanie. The doll disappeared though. She was curious. She used her hands to wipe the snow off the window, and there it was again. But this time, it wasn't on the stand, it was on the other side of the room. Alma couldn't take it anymore, she HAD to get that doll. Therefore, she sprinted to the door and yanked at the door knob a few times, but it didn't work. Giving up because of frustration, she threw a snowball at the door and then walked past the shop about to leave, until she hears a door creak open. The door she had been trying to open creaked open by itself, luring her in.

  She gripped her hand on the door and opened it wider. It was clear, her eyes glistened with excitement when she saw the doll stand a few feet in front of her. As Alma ran for the doll, the door closed back slowly and she stepped on a toy. It was a plastic boy with black hair riding a tricycle. When she stepped on it, it triggered something which caused the doll to start pedaling fiercely, so she put it up right-side down. The doll was riding around until it got to the door as if it was trying to escape but then the door had shut. He was still pedaling though as if he could go through the shut door. He was trapped. She looked at it, but still oblivious about what was going on.

   Turning back around, Alma saw that the doll moved once again. Searching for it desperately, she saw it. It was on the 4th shelf along at the other side of the room with all the other dolls in the shop. As Alma was running towards it, she passed by two identical dolls with eyes that followed her as she ran. She stopped running. She stood there for a few seconds, admiring the doll and it's feature, then she reached for it slowly. Her hand got closer to the doll slower and slower. Then. her   hand finally made contact to it's nose. Everything flashed. She was filled with anxiety when she realized that she was no longer seeing things from her eyes. It was different. Her eyes were out of circular glass lens. As Alma still freaks out, all the dolls around her start to move and stare at her. She soon realized that all those dolls, were kids who wrote their names on the wall, and she herself had become a doll because of her curiousity. Then, she heard it again. It was the sound she  heard after she had saw the doll, and in that place, popped up a red haired doll that wore a red dress.

Internal vs. External Conflict

In The Tale-Tell Heart by Edgar Allen Poe, it describes a man who is terrified of another man's blue eye. He has everything planned out. This guy watches the blue-eyed man every night at a certain time and one night, he decides to kill the man and hides his body under the wood floors, leaving no evidence. He, the murderer, almost gets away with it, but the guilt makes him mentally crazy. The cops come and he lies endlessly, with them not expecting a thing. However, he can' t take it anymore therefore turning himself in to the police. In the end he claims he hears the blue-eyed man's heart beating louder and louder when it was just his mind playing tricks on him. I think the message that Edgar Allen is trying to send out is that; don't do something you'll regret, because us as humans have this thing called guilt, and it's not something that you can control. Guilt will eat you alive. It'll chew you up and spit you out. You can try to shun it out but it will still be there in the back of your head reminding you of the thing you did, and it could eventually drive you insane; just like the killer in the story.

Point Of View Study

As much as I'd prefer to be Vincent Price, my name is Vincent Malloy. I have been alive for seven years and people consider me as "polite" and someone who does what he is told to. They also say that I'm pale, as if I had seen a ghost or something and that I look older, probably because of my messy hair and eye bags. I live with my sister, cats, and dogs. I wished I lived in a house with spider and bats though. My hobbies include making horror inventions, I feel that they reflect on the person that I am. Since I am always alone, I wander through the dark hallways. However my oblivious aunt doesn't see me as this type of person. If you requested, she'd describe me as "nice". Probably because I'm always nice to her, what she doesn't know is that I imagine drenching her in wax to put her into my wax museum. Other than that, another thing I enjoy doing is experimenting on my dog. His suffering doesn't come to mind as I am only concerned with trying to make him a zombie. I know what you're thinking of me now, but no; I don't only think about "cruel" things. I actually like to paint and read. But the things I read aren't childish like "Go Jane, Go", I'd rather read stories and poems written by Edgar Allen Poe. One day I was reading, I felt sick to my stomach and my face turned pale; SOMEONE BURRIED MY WIFE ALIVE! I ran to her grave and tried to dig her out, only to realizing no one was there. I was just digging up my mother's flower bed. She ran outside and dragged me into my room, continuously yelling at me. She left me in there, I thought I would be spending the rest of my life in there with the portrait I drew of my "wife". She came back a few moments later telling me I could go outside and play with my friends if I wanted too. I tried to talk to her but I couldn't speak, I felt too weak. I then took out a piece of paper and wrote how this house has possessed me and I wouldn't be able to leave it again. She said I wasn't possessed and that these things were all in my head, and that I wasn't Vincent Price. I disagreed. I backed slowly against the wall. I felt insane, all these people were calling my name; Edgar, my dead wife, Vincent.  The scratchy hands grew from the wall, grabbing at me. I tried to escaped, reaching for the door. But I fell down slowly my heart beating slower and slower. I quoted one of Edgar's Poems. Everything was blank.