I distinctly remember the sixth of November. The oaken doors had flung open and a man in full black attire had come to live with me, claiming I was his new roommate. He had a twisted smile on his face and immensely pallid skin, he held out his bony hands with nails cut to a fine point and I shook it with insecurity. He greeted me in a hoarse voice and I introduced myself, trying to sway the conversation away from my past, but somehow, I had mentioned Lenore. The word struck a chord within him, plucking away his consciousness only to leave him with one thing to say, “Nevermore” I remember my sweet Lenore, the woman I loved yet the one who never seemed to return it back to me, each day I longed after her- until she was gone. I don’t know how, and I don’t know when it happened- now I had left her behind me for many years, yet here I was again longing for Lenore. In what seemed to be a spurt of sorrow I cried aloud. “Will I ever see you again Lenore?”, my voice driven by agony. “Nevermore” …show more content…
I glared at him, the room had gone dark as the sun went down while the gloom washed over us. Each syllable of that word bit into me, tearing apart the faint glimmers hope that were left after her disappearance. The floor pulled at me taking me down into the dark depths where this man had come from. I looked up at him again, his face expressionless and ignorant of the pain I was feeling. I held up a cushion and threw it at the man, however I never was a good shot and it hurtled past him, knocking over the vase on the table and shattering it into a thousand pieces of