Natalie Dennis Back-up

‘Disturbing Discoveries’ Commentary

When I wrote my story I was influenced by a story by Michael Rumaker called ‘The Teddy Bear.’ I have tried to include many devices Rumaker has used in his short story and hopefully to good effect to make my story just as good.
Devices that he has used in ‘The Teddy Bear’ include onomatopoeia, repetition, alliteration, imagery, metaphors and similes. All of these I have tried to include in my story ‘Disturbing Discoveries,’ and tried to make them as effective as they are in Rumaker’s published story. In ‘The Teddy Bear’ a simile is used (page 164, line 18) where he compares the nurse to himself saying she was ‘…like a bright, chirpy bird.’ I have used this comparison – type of simile in my story to create imagery by saying ‘…pierced his eardrums, like a needle pierces flesh’ (paragraph 2, line 3). I think the use of similes in this way is really good and an effective way of creating imagery, which is why I used it myself.
Repetition is something I tried to use quite subtly which is kind of what Rumaker does. There are a few examples of repetition I chose including ‘…around and around…’ (page 167, line 26) ‘…nearer and nearer…’ (page 159, line 14) and ‘…louder and louder…’ (page 160, line 35). I have taken this idea and in my story have used repetition for (paragraph 2, line 5) ‘…one by one…’ to create a sense of depth and time. By repeating the word ‘one’ I think it implies how far he has to go to try and get the noise to stop.
I have used onomatopoeia like Rumaker does to emphasize (negative) sounds, but in my case I am emphasizing positive sounds. This may be strange as I am describing how blood is running, however by using ‘…trickling and twinkling…’ it creates a sense of peace as they are quite tranquil words. I think this ‘peace’ creates the image of how still and peaceful the man (Tim) is. The opposite sense is created by using negative sounds like Rumaker has done. He uses ‘…moaning…,’ ‘…whining…’ and ‘…crying…’ (page 161, lines 29-33) which implies loudness, as the actions to do such things are very loud.
One metaphor that was used in ‘The Teddy Bear’ influenced my choice of words (paragraph 5, line 4) in particular. On page 16 (lines 6+7) he describes how old and sick the boy is by saying it was ‘…as if he were something unfeeling and dead, frozen in the midst of ice.’ This comparison of dead and cold is what made me decide to describe how pale the dead body was, saying ‘…as white as snow…’ I like this comparison, as dead bodies are cold through the lack of blood running through the body. As this is a common assumption, they can create a better sense of imagery for themselves. Also, the white comparison contrasts to the red of the blood really well. As white is associated with purity etc, and red is the colour of blood, it really exaggerates the state and condition of the body and emphasizes the dead man’s innocence.
I didn’t base my story around Doris Lessing’s ‘Through The Tunnel’ particularly as the type of imagery she creates is not what I wanted. Despite the devices I have used being the same perhaps, the way she uses them isn’t what I wanted in my story, where as the way Rumaker does was what I wanted to achieve. I think Lessing uses very soft and ‘pretty’ imagery in ‘Through The Tunnel’ (due to the way she describes things and uses these devices), but it would not be appropriate in my genre of story (that being of murder). Michael Rumaker however, has made his imagery a lot harsher and more realistic, for example where he shows the use of sibilance (page 161, line 12), he says ‘…smelling of stale sweat.’ In this circumstance, Doris Lessing would have probably put ‘smelling of mouldy flowers,’ or something to that effect. I also think that I can relate more with ‘The Teddy Bear’ where as I find it harder to do so with ‘Through The Tunnel’ as I just can’t picture it being real.
One final device I used (primarily) was alliteration, which I did this for many types of sounds including of ‘f,’ ‘m’ and ‘d.’ Examples of this are ‘…first floor…,’ ‘the doorway in disbelief and dismay’ and ‘monstrous and masculine male.’ I like the effect that this gives as it adds to the tension and emphasizes the words that I have chosen.
I have chosen a formal register for my story and hardly used any colloquialisms. I chose to do my story this way as the idea of ‘Disturbing Discoveries’ is for it to be a murder mystery type of plot. Any use of informality in my writing would ruin the ‘tense’ effect that I was trying to achieve in my story (which I hope it portrays).
Grammar was critical in ‘Disturbing Discoveries’ in my opinion as it creates tension in places that I wanted it to. I have used many short sentences to emphasize certain actions and emotions also. An example of this is (paragraph 4, line 9) ‘No. No. No!’ where the word is so exaggerated that you can tell the person is shocked (when in context) and how he feels about what he is seeing 9he is in denial).
The type of lexis that I have used was quite important in my story I think for many different reasons. I have generally not abbreviated any words to try and show that the man (the primary character) isn’t of a low class (hierarchy wise). I think by doing this it shows that where the story is based isn’t a particularly ‘rough’ area, giving the impression that it is not the type of place that murders would normally take place. This in turn emphasizes the fact that it wasn’t something that the man had seen before (hence the state of shock he is in) and how random the murders were. I have abbreviated words, at times when he is thinking to make his thoughts seem faster paced. If for example, the man thought ‘I don’t know how this happened,’ it would seem like it has just popped into his head. However, if it were to say ‘I do not know how this happened,’ it wouldn’t seem like they were his thoughts (to the reader), and this might make them think that it had been an utterance instead (which would not have been what I wanted).
I think my story has turned out quite well as it includes many necessary devices to create certain effects that I wanted to achieve. Despite this, I don’t think it would have turned out the way it has, had I not included the devices and imagery etc, that Rumaker’s ‘The Teddy Bear’ has influenced and taught me to use.

Disturbing Discoveries

Ignoring the drunk man seemed like a wise decision. He tried to walk around him but it was a narrow road and was difficult to totally avoid him, especially as it were a dark night and he had to stay under the streetlights as much as he possibly could. They weren’t much good either, but at least he had a little vision this way. Anything was better than walking in the dark he thought, so this was his only option.
“Better go in boy, the Malting killer may be lurking.” The drunk laughed uncontrollably while the man fastened his pace, hoping to get away as fast as he possibly could.
“Stupid drunk!” he said to himself after he was far enough away to feel safe. With the drunk still on his mind, he continued along the dark and quiet roads, almost slithering in and out through them all while trying hard to not make a single sound. He got to his apartment on the first floor and fell asleep, finally forgetting what the drunk had said, and looking forward to tomorrow.
The man down on the first floor had never heard anything like it in his life. Screams echoed the building and a high-pitched sound pierced his eardrums, like a needle pierces flesh. He was completely over whelmed by such a noise so he ran, almost jumped, up the staircases one by one to where he expected it to be coming from. Every floor was bringing him closer to that unbearable sound, and on reaching the fourth, the noise was at its most deafening. There, he felt like his ears had started to bleed under the immense volume and pitch of the terrifying screams. Going towards the noise, he encountered a room, 4C where he saw a man. A normal looking person, whose face however was white with shock and who was staring into the room, standing in the doorway in disbelief and dismay. He stopped. The screams had, to the man’s relief, ceased, and he realised that whatever it was in this room, was something so putrid and petrifying as it could scare such a monstrous and masculine male.
He edged closer and closer towards the door, ever cautious of the man and what he would encounter when he looked into that room. Freezing, he was lost in thought for a moment. Did he really want to go into the room? Could he live with the consequences of what he might see? He awoke from his frozen state and started to walk towards the door. His body was taking him there whether he wanted to go or not. As he got closer he realised the man standing just inside the doorway, white with fear and paralysed with shock, was someone else that lived in the apartment block. This man known as ‘Mikey’ to his friends on the block, stood at around six foot seven inches and had a huge belly, an extraordinarily sized frame and yet a placid temperament. Despite this however, a person would get the impression to be scared of him, after all a big man like Mikey is the type of person your parents tell you not antagonise for a reaction from him would not be pleasant. The man thought to himself and came to the conclusion that, simply, big men don’t scare easily, especially not enough to spew such deafening shrieking noises so loud that he had heard them. He walked forwards and slowly turned to look into the doorway and he saw it. He gasped like it was the last breath he’d ever take and fell to the floor.
He awoke horizontally just where he had fallen, and on opening his eyes vaguely he saw what he wished that he would never see. Across the room lay a man, so lifeless and visibly cold and rigid. He was pure white with the exception of the blood that had trickled down the side of his face to the floor. It was if they were staring into each other’s eyes, although when the man looked deeply trying to find a glimpse of life, all that stared back was a lifeless sole with no emotion or feeling, no sign of power or strength or any sense of him looking back. No. No. No! It couldn’t be real thought the man. It was all a dream it had to be; just like in the movies where they awake in their bed and everything is ok. It wasn’t. His head was now thumping due to the impact that it got after it ricocheted hard off the floor and the painful thought of what he was seeing. His pain was nowhere near what this man must have gone through though, whatever had happened to him. He got up slowly as still slightly dazed, and walked quietly out of the room, not looking behind him and hardly moving, as he still felt stiff from his temporary unconscious state. At least his was temporary he thought, unlike Tim’s. That was his name. He had not long moved into the block, and from the perception the man got, he seemed friendly and outgoing and not the kind of person who deserved this. He couldn’t have been more than twenty years old either he recalled; not with his youthful looks and partying lifestyle.
He continued to walk and departed the room and slowly as he’d entered it. Turning and going back down the narrowing staircase he couldn’t see anything apart from the image stuck in his head of Tim laying on the floor as pale and white as snow with blood trickling and twinkling from his head as it caught the light. The puddle. He hadn’t noticed the puddle when he had looked at it first. Only now could he see it in his memory of this vile image, as he was too shocked to see past the expression on Tim’s face before. That puddle was the worst vision now he thought about it. Glistening; so wet and fresh; so real. That was death. The state of the body might have been overlooked ordinarily if it weren’t for that. So red, thick and moist. It was disturbing to think about, but it was so vividly embedded in his mind that it was hard to forget.
The corridor seemed a hundred miles long rather than the reality of it being about twenty foot. It seemed to have a sense of depth that it had never had before, as if this was never going to end. Just like his thoughts. Never going to end. Would they? He thought to himself hoping and praying that they would. Why did I look? What’s happened to him? Who would do this? He suddenly remembered what the drunk had said the previous night. Maybe it was true? Maybe there was a murderer about. Where were they now? The Malting killer? He turned to go down the staircase and he felt a sharp and sudden blow to the back of his head. So quick and the most excruciating pain he had ever felt. But it only lasted a second. He fell to the floor, except this time he would not be getting back up.

An Unfortunate Death

I didn’t know him as well as I thought that I should have done. They all agreed with me that however much I tried, even if every once in a blue moon, I would and could not realise his feelings and dreams that he had felt and lived for. It wasn’t my fault, it’s not as if he were an open book desperately waiting to be read. This thought of my lack of trying to comprehend him, has haunted me ever since. If I’d just understood. I could have found out so much more about him. All I needed was one day. Just a day. It’s not as if I had none to give him. It’s not like he never expected anything from me. He should have done. I took advantage of him. I knew it, everyone else knew it, yet did I do anything about it? No. It was too late. I was too late. So as I said, this thought is still haunting me, and I’ll try to explain to you why.
I decided to skip going to see Sam in the hospital, deciding to go the cinema with my other mates, the people to be with if you wanted a good time. I knew I wouldn’t get a good time if I went to see him. Stuck in that horrible brown chair with the hard wooden arms and the moth eaten cushions. Fun. Sitting in front of Sam, watching him sleep, having to count the ceiling tiles again for the fifteenth time. I don’t think so somehow. Not when I can be watching “The Mighty Trio” (I have to say it in that deep, bellowing voice otherwise it just wouldn’t be the same). What a great film that was! The guy at the end did a well good stunt where he crashed his car and flipped it over and over. Anyway, after we come out of the cinema I was going to see Sam. Honestly I was. But when everyone said they were going to ‘Pizza Palace,’ the new pizza place that’s opened just a few hundred yards down the road from the hospital, I just couldn’t miss out! So we walked there; we had to go past the hospital to get there which made me feel bad but I got over it when I tasted the supreme beef pizza; and I was going to go straight to the hospital after I’d finished eating. So when I finished I got up to go and said bye to everyone, although I didn’t really want to ‘cause they were going to turn up at a party we’d heard about (which turned out to be the best night they’d ever had apparently).
I popped into the rental shop to get “The Mighty Duo” (yes, said in the same voice, but I’ll let you do it yourself) on DVD on the way to the hospital – I hadn’t seen it in ages and going to the cinema brought back funny memories. I got to the hospital and went my usual way to go see Sam. Like a routine I went through the first double doors, up the stairs, and along the corridor to the second room on the right in the Lake Ward. When I got there though I bumped into Sam’s nurse who told me that I couldn’t see him because visiting hours were over. I couldn’t believe it! I could have gone to the party and everything! So I walked back down the double doors and walked out. I felt a bit guilty actually. I did want to see Sam but I couldn’t spend every bit of my time there, whether I hadn’t seen him in the last week or not.
I went straight home after trying to go to the hospital. There was no point in going to the party because one, I didn’t want to turn up on my own, and two, I didn’t actually know where it was. So I went to bed. Not very interesting really accept I got a call really early in the morning. It was Sam’s mum. She was crying down the phone and I could tell that something had happened. She managed to tell me through her sobs that Sam’s health had been slowly deteriorating through the night and that he’d just died. Sam… dead? I didn’t understand. He was fine last week! Once I hung up the phone I cried. I still refuse to admit to anyone else but I did. Yes, a nineteen year old boy cried. I just couldn’t believe that he was dead.
I found out what had happened to Sam a few days later. He’d been suffering for a few days because body was rejecting food and his medicines had stopped having an effect. His dad told me he’d been coughing up blood in his last hours and pretty much bleeding out of each orraphis nearer the end, which must have been so horrible for him. He had been expecting me as well in the afternoon and was asking where I was and why I hadn’t been to see him before he died. It made me feel sick when he told me that. My stomach churned and turned in my body like a snail in it’s shell and a lump appeared in my throat so I couldn’t breathe. Why had I been so selfish?? I had to go to the cinema to watch that film, what’s its name with those guys. I might have still been allowed in to see Sam after if I hadn’t had that stupid pizza. I took advantage of him, thinking that he wouldn’t mind if I didn’t go to see him. There are so many things we should have talked about like how he felt, what his aspirations were. Maybe it would have saved him if I went. Gave him a reason not to give in even if he new he had things to live for, if they were put in perspective. Perspective. That’s what it is. I never had that before now. I hated myself.
I hope a lesson has been learnt here. I thought it was just a day, only a day. How wrong I’ve been. Now I’ve learnt my lesson, when will you learn yours?