Writing Exercise Replacement 5-12 Silhouettes by Hannah Kahoe
Okay, so since I can't seem to get a writing exercise out, I'm going to take this opportunity to tell you about what's been stuck in my mind lately. A friend on Facebook shared some writing prompts. Among them was this one:
IT'S 3 AM. AN OFFICIAL PHONE ALERT WAKES YOU UP. IT SAYS, "DO NOT LOOK AT THE MOON." YOU HAVE HUNDREDS OF NOTIFICATIONS. HUNDREDS OF RANDOM NUMBERS ARE SENDING, "IT'S A BEAUTIFUL NIGHT TONIGHT. LOOK OUTSIDE."
Now already this caught my interest, but before taking it and doing something with it I made the mistake of reading the comments. One of the first comments continued the story, by an author named Hannah Kahoe. I've been hooked on it since I started reading it. She isn't finished yet, but I keep checking up for more updates. Here's the beginning:
Your curiosity peaks, but your cautious instinct speaks louder. What could possibly be going on?
A message from your best friend comes through.
"It's a beautiful night tonight. Look outside."
You text them back asking what they saw, but moments later receive the same message from them again.
"It's a beautiful night tonight. Look outside."
With your inner alarm blaring its warning signal, you turn on your tv only to see an alert that all televised services have been temporarily disrupted. When you open social media, you see post after post of that same line and begin to scroll frantically, trying to find even a hint of any additional information to no avail.
You sit quietly in bed, staring at a thin glimmer of dim light streaming from the gap in the curtains, unsure if you should risk looking outside at all.
In your mind, you weigh your options, noting the official message specifically said not to look at the moon. It is now 3:33 am. How did so much time slip by so quickly?
You decide you cannot stay put any longer without an answer, and get out of bed to walk over to the curtains. There is a chill running up your spine and through your limbs as you get closer and reach out to widen the gap in the curtains, heart pounding, and eyes wide.
You pull back the curtain slowly and see silhouettes of hundreds of people standing in the flooded moonlight which has brightened the world around them in an eerie glow.
Every single person is turned to the side, facing in the same direction with their faces tilted slightly upward. Most of the people have an electronic device in their hands. The light shining into their faces reveals ungodly, wide smiles, stretching their lips so far apart it appears they could rip apart at any moment. Their teeth shine and shimmer in the cool night.
For a split second, you feel your eyes drifting in the direction of their stares only to be brought back to reality by a new silhouette moving in the dark.
Your neighbor, an elderly lady from across the street, hobbles down her front porch steps, and you can make out the outlining of her husband standing in the yard. Her muffled voice is heard through the window, calling to him, questioning why he is out of bed during this time of night. She grabs his arm in an effort to lead him back inside, then she freezes with her mouth agape as she notices most of the neighborhood is out there with them. As she begins to turn her face toward the moon, you frantically bang on the window, screaming at her to stop, but you're too late. Her body follows suit, facing the same direction, and her arms drop limply to her sides as her white nightgown and thinning grey hair blow gently in the wind. The same serene and wicked smile takes over her face as she becomes just another silhouette amongst the crowd.
The fog on the window pane spreads as your breathing intensifies while you try to wrap your mind around the events you're witnessing. Your line of sight becomes more obscured by the second, yet you're unable to truly see anything other than a continuous instant replay of the elderly lady's immediate, limp transformation over and over again in your mind.
A deep rush of light and wind pulses twice through the outside world from the direction of the moon. You regain your focus and wipe away a circle of the fog with your hand to observe the silhouette closest to you, and recognize it's a friend whom you've shared multiple beers with on the back patio during the past summer's nights. Even though it was previously incomprehensible for the smiles to stretch beyond what they already were, you see their lips begin to tear and bleed down their chin as the grin widens further. It's as if an invisible someone has taken a dull blade and roughly slit their cheeks between the teeth nearly all the way to their ears. Their eyes begin the same stretching process, like a force in the skull pushing from behind, threatening to pop the eyeballs from their sockets onto the sliver of cheeks left below.
"Oh, shit," you whisper.
Simultaneously as your voice escapes you, your friend turns their face away from the moon for the first time since this all began, glaring wide-eyed, directly at your window.
For more info, head over to Hannah Kahoe's new Facebook page, where she continues the story: Silhouettes
IT'S 3 AM. AN OFFICIAL PHONE ALERT WAKES YOU UP. IT SAYS, "DO NOT LOOK AT THE MOON." YOU HAVE HUNDREDS OF NOTIFICATIONS. HUNDREDS OF RANDOM NUMBERS ARE SENDING, "IT'S A BEAUTIFUL NIGHT TONIGHT. LOOK OUTSIDE."
Now already this caught my interest, but before taking it and doing something with it I made the mistake of reading the comments. One of the first comments continued the story, by an author named Hannah Kahoe. I've been hooked on it since I started reading it. She isn't finished yet, but I keep checking up for more updates. Here's the beginning:
Your curiosity peaks, but your cautious instinct speaks louder. What could possibly be going on?
A message from your best friend comes through.
"It's a beautiful night tonight. Look outside."
You text them back asking what they saw, but moments later receive the same message from them again.
"It's a beautiful night tonight. Look outside."
With your inner alarm blaring its warning signal, you turn on your tv only to see an alert that all televised services have been temporarily disrupted. When you open social media, you see post after post of that same line and begin to scroll frantically, trying to find even a hint of any additional information to no avail.
You sit quietly in bed, staring at a thin glimmer of dim light streaming from the gap in the curtains, unsure if you should risk looking outside at all.
In your mind, you weigh your options, noting the official message specifically said not to look at the moon. It is now 3:33 am. How did so much time slip by so quickly?
You decide you cannot stay put any longer without an answer, and get out of bed to walk over to the curtains. There is a chill running up your spine and through your limbs as you get closer and reach out to widen the gap in the curtains, heart pounding, and eyes wide.
You pull back the curtain slowly and see silhouettes of hundreds of people standing in the flooded moonlight which has brightened the world around them in an eerie glow.
Every single person is turned to the side, facing in the same direction with their faces tilted slightly upward. Most of the people have an electronic device in their hands. The light shining into their faces reveals ungodly, wide smiles, stretching their lips so far apart it appears they could rip apart at any moment. Their teeth shine and shimmer in the cool night.
For a split second, you feel your eyes drifting in the direction of their stares only to be brought back to reality by a new silhouette moving in the dark.
Your neighbor, an elderly lady from across the street, hobbles down her front porch steps, and you can make out the outlining of her husband standing in the yard. Her muffled voice is heard through the window, calling to him, questioning why he is out of bed during this time of night. She grabs his arm in an effort to lead him back inside, then she freezes with her mouth agape as she notices most of the neighborhood is out there with them. As she begins to turn her face toward the moon, you frantically bang on the window, screaming at her to stop, but you're too late. Her body follows suit, facing the same direction, and her arms drop limply to her sides as her white nightgown and thinning grey hair blow gently in the wind. The same serene and wicked smile takes over her face as she becomes just another silhouette amongst the crowd.
The fog on the window pane spreads as your breathing intensifies while you try to wrap your mind around the events you're witnessing. Your line of sight becomes more obscured by the second, yet you're unable to truly see anything other than a continuous instant replay of the elderly lady's immediate, limp transformation over and over again in your mind.
A deep rush of light and wind pulses twice through the outside world from the direction of the moon. You regain your focus and wipe away a circle of the fog with your hand to observe the silhouette closest to you, and recognize it's a friend whom you've shared multiple beers with on the back patio during the past summer's nights. Even though it was previously incomprehensible for the smiles to stretch beyond what they already were, you see their lips begin to tear and bleed down their chin as the grin widens further. It's as if an invisible someone has taken a dull blade and roughly slit their cheeks between the teeth nearly all the way to their ears. Their eyes begin the same stretching process, like a force in the skull pushing from behind, threatening to pop the eyeballs from their sockets onto the sliver of cheeks left below.
"Oh, shit," you whisper.
Simultaneously as your voice escapes you, your friend turns their face away from the moon for the first time since this all began, glaring wide-eyed, directly at your window.
For more info, head over to Hannah Kahoe's new Facebook page, where she continues the story: Silhouettes
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