The Eye of the Beholder
folder
Vampire › General
Rating:
Adult
Chapters:
3
Views:
1,623
Reviews:
4
Recommended:
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Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Vampire › General
Rating:
Adult
Chapters:
3
Views:
1,623
Reviews:
4
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited. And that's the truth-pbbt...
Chapter 2
As Aaron told me, the principal’s lecture is basically a lesson on the respect we as students are to give to the authorities of this school and on how to correct the teacher in a more private, appropriate way. As punishment, I have to be prop manager for the drama department every Tuesday and Thursday after school. I don’t even get to try out for the play. That is truly punishment for me. Although, I think Mr. K totally overreacted when it was a simple correction at first. But he had to make it a bigger problem than it was instead of admitting when he had made a mistake. As I said earlier, that man has SUCH a huge ego. I go through the rest of my classes: Trigonometry, PE, and Chemistry. Trigonometry, the measure of triangles, is a review for a test the next day on basic trigonometric functions. I excel at math, so the test shouldn’t be a problem. PE at this school is segregated by gender, and even then, we still have to wear dorky uniforms. Since we are meeting outside at high noon, I show a note from my optometrist to the teacher that says I need to wear my blue glasses outside. Contrary to popular belief, vampires do not turn into a pile of dust in the sunlight, although it can weaken them to points of near exhaustion. I am weakened a little, and all I need is to protect my eyes from the blinding rays. All we do is play a few games of badminton. I have never played it, although I have watched before. I pick it up easily, missing the birdie only five times. Chemistry is a lab about the reaction of bases with acids and find the product of the reaction.
My last class of the day is English. The teacher appears to be a pleasant woman, about average height and size. Her blue-green eyes show from behind her slightly wavy blonde hair, the sun catching the red highlights in it. I sit down and as I take a closer look at the teacher, I recognize her from sixteen years ago. I met her when she was a high school student. Her name is Aubrey Morgan. My God, how she’s grown up. The last time I saw her, she was talking about how she hated teachers. Now she’s teaching English: her worse class.
“Good afternoon. I trust that everybody read the poem that I assigned to you?” As students take out their books quickly and look over it because they had forgotten about the homework, Aubrey says, “Well, whether or not you read it, we’re going to discuss it today. So those that didn’t read it, you might be a little confused about this discussion, although the poem shouldn’t be unfamiliar to most in here.” I smile as I remember her rebellious attitude towards homework. She pulls out a worn, hard-back book from her satchel, opens it, and glances at the page. She smiles subtly, then redirects her attention to her class. “Alright then, who can tell me what the homework assignment was?”
A student from my World History class raises her hand and answers, “The Raven by Edgar Allan Poe, Miss Morgan.” I can see her a little bit better this time from a side angle. Her light brown hair is tightly curled and just brushes her chin. Her green eyes are wide in anticipation behind wire-rimmed lenses.
“Correct, Lorelai.” What a pretty name…Lorelai…I’ll have to use that when I get a new identity. “I can see you paid attention. Would those that read The Raven like to share what they thought about it?” There was a silence in the room after she asked. “C’mon, it’s ok. You aren’t graded on how you liked it.”
“It was really sad,” says Lorelai. “It must have really been hard for him to lose his beloved.”
“The rhythm of it’s cool,” says a black guy in the middle of the classroom. “Kinda sounds like you could put it to a rap, you know?”
“I thought it was really creepy. That dumb bird wouldn’t leave him alone…and the bird TALKED,” says one of Allison’s minions.
“It was too morbid and dark for me,” one of the guys in the front says. “I like the funny stuff.”
“I liked it,” says Aaron in the back. He must have snuck in while I was looking at Aubrey.
Various students in the class room just spoke up, without raising their hands, but it seemed that Aubrey liked this kind of spontaneous participation instead of being awkwardly called on and embarrassed.
“Good, good. Those are all good observations: the context of the story told, the overall mood of the poem, the rhythm or ‘meter’ of poetry. Everyone has their own perspective of literature because of their own experiences. So who thinks they can tell me what Poe was trying to get across?” The room is silent once again. It’s one thing to tell what you yourself think of it; it’s another thing to say what you think the poem means and be totally embarrassed when you find out you’re wrong.
After a few moments of everyone just looking at each other, wondering who’s going to speak first, Lorelai answers, “I think the raven represents the loss of his Lenore, and it represents his sorrow in that no matter how many times he wants his sorrow to leave, it never goes away.”
“That’s a good theory, Lorelai. Anyone else?”
Aaron again speaks up: “At the end of the poem, as he lays on the floor dying in sorrow, it is apparent that he has chosen death over a life without Lenore: meaning he killed himself.”
“Another good theory, Aaron. Deeper thinking from a young man…it’s almost starting to sound like Poe himself. Any other ideas about it?” The students are absolutely quiet, except for the thumbing of their textbooks, searching for footnotes or any clue of what the teacher wants to hear. I slowly raise my hand, waiting for Aubrey to recognize and call on me. “Ah, the new student, Samantha, wishes to interject into our lively conversation.” She looks at me, and I see a slight demeanor change in her face.
“From what I remember of The Raven, the narrator wants to rid himself of the sorrow that pains his heart. He wants to die: the only way to lose his grief and pain. As he naps, a tapping is heard at the door; a hint of something bad to come, maybe. Then as the raven flies in through the window, it is the death that he wished for. Once death comes to him, he doesn’t want to die. He comes to that realization and tries to send death away, but like all men, they try to control whether or not they die, but death takes him anyway.”
Everyone is staring as I explain my meaning of the poem. Some jaws drop in shock while most of them roll their eyes as the smart girl shows off in class. I feel Aaron smiling as Aubrey says, “That’s right, Samantha. How did you come to that conclusion?”
“When I think about Poe, his stories and poems usually have such a deeper meaning that what you first see. Many people think of the other theories right off, not discrediting Lorelai and Aaron for their observations, but to truly understand literature, as well as people, you have to look deeper than what you first see, because first sight isn’t always correct.”
Just then, a guy comes into the room, kind of hunched over with his long black leather duster covering him, and places a piece of paper on the overhead. He looks Aubrey for a split second then walks towards the desks. He takes off his duster and drapes it over the back of the chair next to me. The white wife-beater he wears shows that he isn’t as ripped as David, but he isn’t a couch potato either. His baggy black jeans show just the toe of his black leather boots as he sits to my left. His blood red hair is pulled back into a tight ponytail, the end of it touching the top of his neck. The ponytail leads me to see the tattoo on the back of his neck: a pair of wings. One wing is a white-feathered angel wing, and the other is a black dragon wing.
Aubrey takes the paper and reads it. “Ah, welcome to Brookstone High School, Douglas O’Reed. And welcome to my English class. I’m Miss Morgan, and right now, we are discussing The Raven by Edgar Allan Poe. Do you have any thoughts about it?”
“Sure, I do.” His deep voice is laced with a strong Irish accent. “With the stress of Lenore keeling over and dyin’, the junk food that he ate after she died, and his freakin’ out over the bird that won’t leave him alone, it built up and hit him all at once in the form of a heart attack that lead him to keel over and die himself, just like Lenore did.”
Not exactly sure how to react to that, Aubrey responds, “Not even here for a minute and has a unique theory for the class. Well, let me give you another perspective on it. Just because someone may be right about something, it never hurts to see another perspective on the same subject to make you think about it and make your own theories about things. In this poem, Poe uses several symbols to take the poem to a higher level. The most obvious symbol is, of course, the raven itself. When Poe had decided to use a refrain that repeated the word ‘nevermore’, he found that it would be most effective if he used a non-reasoning creature to utter the word. It is also important that the answers to the questions are already known, to illustrate the self-torture to which the narrator exposes himself.” I just sit and listen, totally amazed at her knowledge of the subject. As she explains everything, her facial expressions change and her hands move about to further communicate just what she is talking about.
“The room is richly furnished, reminding the narrator of his lost love, which helps to create an effect of beauty in the poem. The tempest outside is used to even more signify the isolation of this man, to show a sharp contrast between the calmness in the chamber and the tempestuous night. Poe had an extensive vocabulary, which is obvious to the readers of both his poetry as well as his fiction. Sometimes this meant introducing words that were not commonly used. In The Raven, the use of ancient and poetic language seems appropriate, since the poem is about a man spending most of his time with books of ‘forgotten lore’.”
As she goes on to talk about the poetic language, I begin to monitor this class. Aaron is again sitting behind me, but not as far behind me this time. The preps that are usually off in their own little world during class lectures are actually staring, whispering, and motioning to Douglas. I guess they think the new guy is “totally hot”. I turn to him and ask, “Where did you come up with that idea about the heart attack?”
Without turning to me, he just leans and whispers, “That sort of thing happened to my uncle in Ireland after my parents were killed in a riot. He didn’t die, but he almost did.” When he does turn to me, he smiles, but it’s a strange smile… “That’s why we moved to America. He thought he could get over their death easier away from home… and I wouldn’t be in the middle of all the riots and get killed myself since I’m all he has left.”
**Note from Author**
YES, I have FINALLY started Chapter 2, but I'm not done with it yet. A little more than before, but not done yet. A NEW CHARACTER added!!! Please be patient, and REVIEW!! I will check them and any helpful suggestions will be thought through... or just tell me if you like how it is going so far! :) ENJOY!!
The vampire,
Aldys Annabel Clairveux
My last class of the day is English. The teacher appears to be a pleasant woman, about average height and size. Her blue-green eyes show from behind her slightly wavy blonde hair, the sun catching the red highlights in it. I sit down and as I take a closer look at the teacher, I recognize her from sixteen years ago. I met her when she was a high school student. Her name is Aubrey Morgan. My God, how she’s grown up. The last time I saw her, she was talking about how she hated teachers. Now she’s teaching English: her worse class.
“Good afternoon. I trust that everybody read the poem that I assigned to you?” As students take out their books quickly and look over it because they had forgotten about the homework, Aubrey says, “Well, whether or not you read it, we’re going to discuss it today. So those that didn’t read it, you might be a little confused about this discussion, although the poem shouldn’t be unfamiliar to most in here.” I smile as I remember her rebellious attitude towards homework. She pulls out a worn, hard-back book from her satchel, opens it, and glances at the page. She smiles subtly, then redirects her attention to her class. “Alright then, who can tell me what the homework assignment was?”
A student from my World History class raises her hand and answers, “The Raven by Edgar Allan Poe, Miss Morgan.” I can see her a little bit better this time from a side angle. Her light brown hair is tightly curled and just brushes her chin. Her green eyes are wide in anticipation behind wire-rimmed lenses.
“Correct, Lorelai.” What a pretty name…Lorelai…I’ll have to use that when I get a new identity. “I can see you paid attention. Would those that read The Raven like to share what they thought about it?” There was a silence in the room after she asked. “C’mon, it’s ok. You aren’t graded on how you liked it.”
“It was really sad,” says Lorelai. “It must have really been hard for him to lose his beloved.”
“The rhythm of it’s cool,” says a black guy in the middle of the classroom. “Kinda sounds like you could put it to a rap, you know?”
“I thought it was really creepy. That dumb bird wouldn’t leave him alone…and the bird TALKED,” says one of Allison’s minions.
“It was too morbid and dark for me,” one of the guys in the front says. “I like the funny stuff.”
“I liked it,” says Aaron in the back. He must have snuck in while I was looking at Aubrey.
Various students in the class room just spoke up, without raising their hands, but it seemed that Aubrey liked this kind of spontaneous participation instead of being awkwardly called on and embarrassed.
“Good, good. Those are all good observations: the context of the story told, the overall mood of the poem, the rhythm or ‘meter’ of poetry. Everyone has their own perspective of literature because of their own experiences. So who thinks they can tell me what Poe was trying to get across?” The room is silent once again. It’s one thing to tell what you yourself think of it; it’s another thing to say what you think the poem means and be totally embarrassed when you find out you’re wrong.
After a few moments of everyone just looking at each other, wondering who’s going to speak first, Lorelai answers, “I think the raven represents the loss of his Lenore, and it represents his sorrow in that no matter how many times he wants his sorrow to leave, it never goes away.”
“That’s a good theory, Lorelai. Anyone else?”
Aaron again speaks up: “At the end of the poem, as he lays on the floor dying in sorrow, it is apparent that he has chosen death over a life without Lenore: meaning he killed himself.”
“Another good theory, Aaron. Deeper thinking from a young man…it’s almost starting to sound like Poe himself. Any other ideas about it?” The students are absolutely quiet, except for the thumbing of their textbooks, searching for footnotes or any clue of what the teacher wants to hear. I slowly raise my hand, waiting for Aubrey to recognize and call on me. “Ah, the new student, Samantha, wishes to interject into our lively conversation.” She looks at me, and I see a slight demeanor change in her face.
“From what I remember of The Raven, the narrator wants to rid himself of the sorrow that pains his heart. He wants to die: the only way to lose his grief and pain. As he naps, a tapping is heard at the door; a hint of something bad to come, maybe. Then as the raven flies in through the window, it is the death that he wished for. Once death comes to him, he doesn’t want to die. He comes to that realization and tries to send death away, but like all men, they try to control whether or not they die, but death takes him anyway.”
Everyone is staring as I explain my meaning of the poem. Some jaws drop in shock while most of them roll their eyes as the smart girl shows off in class. I feel Aaron smiling as Aubrey says, “That’s right, Samantha. How did you come to that conclusion?”
“When I think about Poe, his stories and poems usually have such a deeper meaning that what you first see. Many people think of the other theories right off, not discrediting Lorelai and Aaron for their observations, but to truly understand literature, as well as people, you have to look deeper than what you first see, because first sight isn’t always correct.”
Just then, a guy comes into the room, kind of hunched over with his long black leather duster covering him, and places a piece of paper on the overhead. He looks Aubrey for a split second then walks towards the desks. He takes off his duster and drapes it over the back of the chair next to me. The white wife-beater he wears shows that he isn’t as ripped as David, but he isn’t a couch potato either. His baggy black jeans show just the toe of his black leather boots as he sits to my left. His blood red hair is pulled back into a tight ponytail, the end of it touching the top of his neck. The ponytail leads me to see the tattoo on the back of his neck: a pair of wings. One wing is a white-feathered angel wing, and the other is a black dragon wing.
Aubrey takes the paper and reads it. “Ah, welcome to Brookstone High School, Douglas O’Reed. And welcome to my English class. I’m Miss Morgan, and right now, we are discussing The Raven by Edgar Allan Poe. Do you have any thoughts about it?”
“Sure, I do.” His deep voice is laced with a strong Irish accent. “With the stress of Lenore keeling over and dyin’, the junk food that he ate after she died, and his freakin’ out over the bird that won’t leave him alone, it built up and hit him all at once in the form of a heart attack that lead him to keel over and die himself, just like Lenore did.”
Not exactly sure how to react to that, Aubrey responds, “Not even here for a minute and has a unique theory for the class. Well, let me give you another perspective on it. Just because someone may be right about something, it never hurts to see another perspective on the same subject to make you think about it and make your own theories about things. In this poem, Poe uses several symbols to take the poem to a higher level. The most obvious symbol is, of course, the raven itself. When Poe had decided to use a refrain that repeated the word ‘nevermore’, he found that it would be most effective if he used a non-reasoning creature to utter the word. It is also important that the answers to the questions are already known, to illustrate the self-torture to which the narrator exposes himself.” I just sit and listen, totally amazed at her knowledge of the subject. As she explains everything, her facial expressions change and her hands move about to further communicate just what she is talking about.
“The room is richly furnished, reminding the narrator of his lost love, which helps to create an effect of beauty in the poem. The tempest outside is used to even more signify the isolation of this man, to show a sharp contrast between the calmness in the chamber and the tempestuous night. Poe had an extensive vocabulary, which is obvious to the readers of both his poetry as well as his fiction. Sometimes this meant introducing words that were not commonly used. In The Raven, the use of ancient and poetic language seems appropriate, since the poem is about a man spending most of his time with books of ‘forgotten lore’.”
As she goes on to talk about the poetic language, I begin to monitor this class. Aaron is again sitting behind me, but not as far behind me this time. The preps that are usually off in their own little world during class lectures are actually staring, whispering, and motioning to Douglas. I guess they think the new guy is “totally hot”. I turn to him and ask, “Where did you come up with that idea about the heart attack?”
Without turning to me, he just leans and whispers, “That sort of thing happened to my uncle in Ireland after my parents were killed in a riot. He didn’t die, but he almost did.” When he does turn to me, he smiles, but it’s a strange smile… “That’s why we moved to America. He thought he could get over their death easier away from home… and I wouldn’t be in the middle of all the riots and get killed myself since I’m all he has left.”
**Note from Author**
YES, I have FINALLY started Chapter 2, but I'm not done with it yet. A little more than before, but not done yet. A NEW CHARACTER added!!! Please be patient, and REVIEW!! I will check them and any helpful suggestions will be thought through... or just tell me if you like how it is going so far! :) ENJOY!!
The vampire,
Aldys Annabel Clairveux