Short story - looking glass river

I based my short story on the poem of looking glass river. This poem inspired me by the double meaning in the poets words, he displays a calm, beautiful river with entracing fish and everliving tranquility but beneath his words I have invisaged a sort of mystery, that every thing in the looking glass river is not as it seems, that beneath the water lillies and array of coloured fish there is an endless depth of blackness pulling in all that come near it. therefore although R.L stevenson's poetry is calm and beautiful there is an air of mystery beneath every line!

Looking-Glass River

“Mathew!” screamed mother’s panicked voice, it scared me how one voice so beautiful and delicate, the same one that sang us lullabies, which assured us that everything was going to be all right changed to that of worry and grief in less than a second. She couldn’t stop screaming, yelling his name over and over. It was futile, father already tried to jump in, to save him from the endless depths of blackness, but I knew from the second he fell that he was gone, no use crying or trying to revive him, he had been lost, never to return.

I had just woken up to the sound of Gracie’s excited voice, “Rose! Come on, get up, and get up. We have to prepare the picnic!” It was a warm, sunny day, one that made you guilty to waste it on sleeping in or staying inside, therefore my parents had planned a picnic, a nice family outing to take our minds off school and the stress of homework, a day to go out and relax and have fun. I slowly got out of bed and eased off my pyjamas. I decided to wear some knee- length, sturdy shorts, the new white T-shirt mother had brought me as well as some hiking boots and long socks. I went down stairs to find Gracie in her pink dress with small, white ballet flats. “Gracie! How are you going to go out like that? We will have to walk for hours to find the perfect picnic spot!” I said, eyeing her shoes incredulously.

“nuh – uh, mother said we only have to walk a short distance from the car and I think what Gracie’s wearing looks pretty!” exclaimed Mathew. Gracie and him were twins, both 6 years old, they did everything together, it was an odd day when one of them decided to go somewhere or do something different from the other. Mathew was standing there in his brown khaki shorts and a red top with a picture of Thomas the tank engine on it. “Now children, we don’t have time for fighting today, Rose you look fine now will you help your father find the keys whilst your siblings and I are going to prepare the basket of food.” With a squeal of delight Gracie and Mathew left the room and I set of to find father’s keys.

Sure enough the spot our picnic was held, as promised, was only a few minutes from the car and wasn’t it exquisite! As we emerged from the last of the wattle trees there lay an amazing meadow lined with an array of flowers, all a different colour to the next, deep blues, greens, soft pink, bright yellow, you name it and it was there that, however, this was not the first thing that caught my eye or the eyes of Gracie and Mathew. For in front of us lay a river with what seemed like hundreds of fish and water creatures as well as many magnificent water lilies floating on top you would have thought the image popped right out of the enchanted garden!

“Father?” Gracie called, “can we have our picnic near this river?”

“I don’t see why not!” Replied father as he ignored mother’s ramblings about the current and how we might catch a cold, and placed the picnic mat and basket a few feet from the lake.

Lunch was delicious, we ate a meal of chicken sandwich’s and a bowl of grapes and strawberries, the chicken was juicy and flavoursome and the strawberries soft and sweet, as soon as they touched your tongue the burst with flavour, but according to Gracie that just wasn’t enough, “can’t we have something sweet, I’ve eaten my sandwich and all of my fruit, please?” Mathew joined in, “Yes, please mother, we helped you pack the food!” Mother just rolled her eyes and looked through the basket, “now let’s see what we have,” upon further examination she said “ her we go I have three apples for you dears… no? How about some short bread and banana cake?!” as Matt and Gracie called out with delight mother pulled out a big loaf of banana bread and a dozen pieces of freshly baked short bread. “Thank you mother, this is really delicious!” I said after taking the first bite of my banana bread,
“your welcome my sweet, I’m glad you think so.” Replied mother while my siblings ran to the lake to ‘help feed the fish’, I ran over to join them, followed shortly after mother and father.

We sat there eating away the warm shortbread and scrumptious banana bread, if only that small piece of happiness lasted forever, if only that moment could be frozen in time, but such is not of world and the next series of events happened so quickly I could barely comprehend. Matt reached out to feed the fish his banana bread when the current pulled him in. Screams were everywhere, our brief moment of happiness shattered in to one of chaos, father dove in – determined to save his baby boy from the clutches of the monstrous river thought so calm and comforting before, but by that time Matt was already a good twenty meters in front of us, pushed by the currents. I could no longer see his head of blonde curls, no longer see his tortured face, he was pulled under, engulfed by the water. Just then Father reached him, he dived so far into the darkness but he couldn’t see a thing, no curls, no red top, no matt. He burst up out of the water gasping heavily only to go back down to continue his search, by now Gracie was yelling hysterically, I had to hold her back from leaping into the water to find him, mother was screaming his name over and over, for me, I just looked at the depths of the river incomprehensibly, watching father take another breath and go under, no one had accepted that Matt was gone, drowned in the depths of the rapids, taken prisoner by the river that as the seconds tick by, turns as black as night, and what for exactly? To give a small trout a meal of banana bread.

The storm

The storm
If you wake at midnight and hear a rumbling in the sky,
do not stay awake, for the storm will soon pass by,
The thunder’s like a growl, the lightning like a spark,
Just go back to sleep, not to be frightened by the dark.
The storm will soon pass, I promise you my dear,
Dream your happy dreams and do not lay in fear.
For when morning comes, and you wake up from your sleep,
the sky will be bright blue, the sun will slowly creep,
But for now my little darling, lay down your head and rest,
The storm will pass by morning and the sky will be at best,
Let the clouds pour out their tears, let the thunder make it’s last “clap”,
For I can feel the downpour softening , only dripping like a tap,
Now relax my sweetheart, and let your troubles mend,
For the storm has nearly finished, it is coming to it’s end.