Freewrite 6

In the light, it was an obstacle course. In the darkness, it was a nightmare. When the large door was closed, the room was always dark, even when the lights were on. Sarah shuddered at the cool air that slowly seeped into the house through the door that led to the garage. Flipping the light switch, she paused, staring into the unaffected darkness. Then she remembered. The light was broken. The bulb had burned out yesterday. She stood at the edge of the abyss for a moment, contemplating whether or not to enter the darkness. She focused her mind on her mission. Mom was waiting for the box of gift-wrapping bows which Sarah had so uncharacteristically volunteered to retrieve. Reluctantly, she stepped into the garage. She could feel the cold concrete floor through her Winnie the Pooh socks. Mom always told her not to go in there without shoes, but this would be a quick trip. In and out. Nothing could possibly entice her to prolong her stay, especially with the only light coming from the dim lamp that hung above the washing machine. She could only make out vague shapes in the darkness. But she knew what she should see. Her family was composed of pack rats. Gargantuan piles of boxes and bags, filled with old clothes, knickknacks, and sports equipment consumed the two-car garage. Sarah carefully navigated the clutter, searching for the white tote that held the wrapping supplies. As she vanished deeper and deeper into the piles (some of which rose above her head), the amount of visible light depleted. A noise. She started at the sudden onset of the water heater. Turning around, something cold and hard slammed hard into her arm. Suddenly, there was an exclamation of noise. Metal clinging and clattering. She was not alone. Falling to the floor, she squeezed her eyes shut, afraid to look. Silent, for a moment, she peaked. There was nothing. Only darkness and the oscillation of her father’s bikes that hung from the ceiling. She waited for the silence to return. Gathering her courage, she ran out of the garage.

This is good! I like the description not only of the way you were feeling and the location, but also WHY the location was the way it was. The fact that your family collects stuff lets the reader picture what could be in the boxes, and the scene really takes shape. The one thing I'm curious about is that it took courage to run out of the garage? that was an interesting thing to me. It makes me wonder, is courage staying in the garage though you don't want to be there? or is it running out? I think the fact that i enjoyed your writing and that it made me think not only about the story but also about something entirely different means it did a wonderful job. I enjoyed it a lot.

cbehling asks an interesting question. I figured the courage was around exposing herself as she got up and ran. as much as I enjoyed the richness of this description, I want to know was it a cat or a murderer lurking? did I miss something?