The Call (English Short Story)

Maya und Domenico
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  • Qualität des Beitrags: 0 Sterne
  • Beteiligte Poster: jana - Prissi
  • Forum: Maya und Domenico
  • aus dem Unterforum: Schreibforum
  • Antworten: 3
  • Forum gestartet am: Freitag 06.10.2006
  • Sprache: deutsch
  • Link zum Originaltopic: The Call (English Short Story)
  • Letzte Antwort: vor 13 Jahren, 7 Monaten, 2 Tagen, 18 Stunden, 55 Minuten
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    Re: The Call (English Short Story)

    jana - 24.08.2009, 22:34

    The Call (English Short Story)
    Hey ich stell mal eine englische Kurzgeschichte rein, die ich geschrieben habe. Ich wollte nur mal sehen, wie es für mich ist eine Geschichte auf Englisch zu schreiben. Es ist eine Gruselgeschicht. Ich bin in dem Genre nicht besonder gut, vorallem nicht auf Englisch. But I thought I just give it a try.
    Die Geschichte hat vermutlich sehr viel Fehler, ich behersche die Sprache eben auch nicht perfekt. Ich höffe ihr mögt sie trotzdem. Vielleicht stell ich mal eine deutsche Übersetzung rein...

    The Call

    I was with my school on a field trip. I was going to an all girls’ school. We were staying at a youth hostel. All the girls slept in one big room. It was pretty crowed and I was annoyed, because I wanted my peace.
    I took out my cell phone to check if I got any new text messages. I didn’t. I sighed and let it slip back into my pocket.
    “What’s wrong?” asked Megan and looked at me with a worried expression on her face.
    “Nothing,” I said.
    “Well, there must be something bothering you or else you wouldn’t sigh every ten seconds.”
    “Okay, okay, I tell you what’s wrong.” It was impossible to hide anything from Megan. It would be bad if it were otherwise. She was my best friend for almost ten years now.
    “I told you about the guy I went out with last weekend, right?” She nodded.
    “Well he didn’t give me a call since then. Not even a text. I thought that there was something between us, you now? The right chemistry or something. But I guess I was wrong.”
    She shrugged her shoulders. “Why don’t you give him a call then?”
    I looked at her in shock. “No way!”
    “Why not?”
    “Well isn’t the guy supposed to be the one who gives the first call?” I asked chary.
    Megan laughed. “Gosh, you’re so old-fashioned!”
    I turned red. “I don’t want to look desperate.”
    “You look pretty desperate to me,” she said grinning. “You like him, right? So just do it! C’mon!”
    I considered the option for a few seconds and then I shook my head. “I can’t. It’s embarrassing.”
    Megan looked at me pitiful. “You’re so hopeless.”
    “Who is?” asked Courtney curious and sat down next to me.
    I didn’t want to talk with Courtney about stuff like that, because she was a tattletale. If I would talk to her about my love problems, everybody from my school would know about it by tomorrow.
    “It’s nothing,” I said and looked to Megan in a pleading manner. She wouldn’t tell her anything, I knew.
    “It’s nothing,” confirmed Megan.
    But Courtney figured it out by herself anyways.
    “Guy problem, right?” She caught the whole attention of the room with those words. Suddenly everybody was interested and eager to share their experiences. I got up immediately and left the room with the words “I’ve to go to the bathroom.”
    I leaned against the closed door and suspired. I still could hear the girls wildly arguing inside the room. I didn’t want to go back there.
    I felt so confused and I just couldn’t stop thinking about him. Why didn’t he call? Didn’t he enjoy last weekend? I mean we almost kissed! I probably should especially point out ‘almost’. Maybe I was just imaging things. Maybe he hated our date. He probably didn’t kiss me because he felt disgusted by me. I couldn’t bear the thought of it.
    I was standing in the poorly lighted hallway. There were no windows of course, just a lot of doors. I was bare-footed and I could feel a cold breeze blowing around my feet. It felt like little fingers stroking softly my bare skin. I shivered. It was giving me the creeps. I wanted to go back inside. But then I remembered Courtney and the other girls. So I thought I might as well go to the bathroom as I had told them.
    The whole hostel was rather old and so were the sanitations. It seemed that both wall and floor tiles were formerly white, but now they were pigmented in a kind of yellowish color. As if someone had pissed at them. I felt grossed out. I wanted to go back, but suddenly the door slammed close behind me. I startled and stumbled backwards. I hit the floor and lost my consciousness for a few seconds. When I gained it back it was all dark around me.
    I could hear whispers in the darkness, buzzing around my head. Somebody or something was breathing into my ear. I slapped into the direction the breathing came from, but there was nothing.
    My heart hammered against my chest. I could hear footsteps which drew circles around me.
    “Who’s there?” I said, trembling. Nobody answered. The person just kept walking.
    Tap-tap-tap… One step after another.
    “Who’s there?” I asked again, fighting with my tears.
    “Say something, please!” I begged. “You’re creeping me out.”
    I tried to stand up, but I just couldn’t control my limbs. I was unable to move.
    I breathed heavily. The person or the thing (?) seemed to come closer.
    I wanted to scream, but just a weird growling noise left my lips. Till I realized that this noise didn’t came from me. It came from somewhere in the darkness. Hot tears streamed down my cheeks.
    Suddenly the ceiling light started to flicker and the room was illuminated for a few seconds. I thought I could see someone standing in a corner. The light became constant, and the someone just turned out as an ordinary shadow.
    I looked around. I was alone. I still could hear the tap-tap-tap sound. But I realized it was just a leaky faucet. I stand up and looked at my reflection in the mirror. Mascara had dyed my tears black. I turned on the faucet and washed my face with cold water.
    Then I raised my head.
    Someone was standing behind me. I couldn’t see the face, just its shade.
    Before I was able to scream, the shade put its hand on my mouth. Its fingers were not human. There were bony, long and pale. The fingernails were red as blood. It looked like a dead persons hand.
    The shade dragged me backwards. I couldn’t defend myself. I wasn’t able to move.
    The shade whispered my name into my ear, with a hissing breath. Suddenly a weird noise went through the room.
    The shade disappeared. The hissing stopped. I couldn’t feel its hand on my mouth anymore.
    The weird noise went on. I realized that it was my cell phone, ringing.
    I stumbled out of the bathroom and ran down the hallway.
    Ring-ring-ring…
    I didn’t stopped running until I reached chamber, where the girls were at.
    They looked at me with surprise.
    “What happened to you?” asked Courtney. “You look like sh-it.”
    I wasn’t able to answer. Suddenly I realized that my cell phone was still ringing. I picked up.
    “Hello?” I said breathy.
    “Hi, it’s me. You know, John. We went out last weekend, you remember? I know it’s kinda late, but I thought I give you a call.”

    -The End-



    Re: The Call (English Short Story)

    Prissi - 25.08.2009, 10:52


    Die Geschichte ist toll...sie hat ein gutes Ende :-)
    Dein Englischlehrer würde die If-clauses zwar nicht gut heißen, aber das ist nicht wirklich schlimm. Ich find es echt mutig, eine Story auf Englisch zu schreiben und vor allem hier reinzustellen (es sei denn, du hast mehr Erfahrung in dem Bereich als das normale Schulenglisch;-))



    Re: The Call (English Short Story)

    jana - 25.08.2009, 12:45


    Naja ich war ein halbes Jahr in Amerika, aber ich mach immer noch viele Fehler. Vorallem mit der Grammatik hab ich es nicht so, weil ich das immer nach Gefühl mache.
    Wie würden die If-clauses denn richtig heißen? Ich könnte es ausbessern.
    Aber danke fürs Lesen...



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