Hey guys! This is just a short story i had to write for School. It had a limit to 2-3 pages, so it is really short, but.... Hope you like it!!! :)
The Scream
“Alright now everyone, let’s head down this hallway to the modern era of our art museum.” I heard the tour guide tell her group of students as I watched them leave the room. I walked over to the next painting, admiring the combination of different colors. I read the name below, more out of habit than for knowledge. The sign told the name of the painting, Starry Night, and the painter, Vincent Van Gogh. I had always admired Van Gogh, his ability to force your eyes wherever he wanted. It was in my trance of admiration that someone must have walked into the room with me. That was my first thought when I heard someone clear their throat.
“Hello?” I called out spinning around. I couldn’t see anyone. They must be behind something, I thought. I waited for them to call back; they would’ve heard me, right?
“Over here!” someone called out. I sighed in relief. I wasn’t crazy. Someone really was in here.
“Where? I don’t see you!” I called back
“I’m over here! Next to the Mona Lisa.” I glanced over there. I had already made my way past that area. No one had been over there.
“I still can’t see you. Are you invisible?” I said, slightly sarcastic.
He laughed, “But you have seen me! You have walked by me many times.”
This confused me. Who was this person?
“Just come over here.” I did what voice told me to do, then stopped in my tracks. My mind started telling me crazy things, but only one made any sense. Isn’t this what happens in scary movies? Some creepy voice tells someone to do what they want, and when they obey, they are found dead?
“Why should I listen to you?” I called out as the memory of what happened last weekend, in this very room, flashes into my mind. The news report of last weekend, when someone had been murdered. Scary yes, but what was even scarier was they hadn’t found the killer.
“Why should I share the information I have with you?” my train of thoughts stopped when he said that. Curiosity got the best of me and begrudgingly, I walked over to the Mona Lisa area.
“Alright, I’m over here, where are you?”
“Turn around.” I turned around, but all I could see was The Scream panting, painted by Edvard Munch.
“Okay, so where are you?”
“Right here.” I heard the voice, and could swear the painting had moved. Maybe I am crazy, that painting could not be talking. Paintings do not talk.
“You’re not in the painting, are you?”
“No, you were right before. I am invisible.” said the painting, making it seem like it was obvious that the painting was the one talking. He kept talking, but I wasn’t listening. I was too caught up in my thoughts. Paintings could not talk. Finally, my thoughts became audible.
“How can you talk? Paintings can’t talk.”
“Haven’t you ever heard the saying, ‘a painting’s worth a thousand words’?”
“I thought it was picture? ‘A picture’s worth a thousand words’”
“But the same principle applies. Anyway, back to my information. You remember that murder that happened a while ago?”
“Yeah, it’s been all over the news. What about it?”
“The murder, it happened right where you’re standing. I saw it all.”
“Really? So I guess you could identify the murderer?” I had an idea. Hopefully it would work out, and I would get that promotion I have been hoping for since forever.
“Yeah. Saw it all, didn’t I say that? I thought I did…” he started rambling incessantly.
“Yeah, you did. I just wanted to make sure I heard you right. What did he look like, exactly?” He started telling me, and my journalism ability came into use. From his description, I could probably identify this guy in a heartbeat. After he was finally finished, I told him I’d be back later, and ran. I don’t mean figuratively, I mean I literally ran all the way to the police station. I had been following this case since the beginning, I wasn’t reporting it, but it intrigued me. I knew they had a pretty solid case, only no suspect. With my description, they could take another dangerous man off the streets.
“Hello, how can I help you?” The secretary behind the desk at the police station said to me.
“Hello, my name is Mathew Dai, I work with the local newscast, and I think I may have some very crucial evidence that could help solve the art museum murder.”
Hope you liked it!! Like? Comment? Do whatever you want! :)
~Softball_Chick :)
