The Dreaded Curse The dark, filthy room swayed before his bloodshot eyes, he hadn't slept in days. The trees outside were shaking in the strong wind as if their arms were flailing helplessly. The cracked glass of the window was razor sharp: it dared someone to come and test its sharpness. The sofa was black with dirt and incredibly sunken; the putrid smell in the air was almost unbearable, the wallpaper was peeling off the walls at every corner. The only light in the room flickered on and off dimly. There were cracks in the ceiling and walls, but for Travers, this cabin was his home. Crossing walked around the room, his worn clothes (which were three sizes too big for him) falling further and further from his shoulders with every step he took. took. His wrinkled and holed shirt was far from suitable and his once gray pants were black with dirt. Travers was not a handsome man and had many distorting features: his ragged, tangled black hair covered his pale forehead; his blue eyes had been missing for several weeks and in their place were bloodshot red eyes; the bags under her eyes were those of an elderly woman. Sweat was running down his face and it had nothing to do with the heat of the room. Travers wiped his brow and walked slowly around the room. “He’s coming,” he thought. Trembling, Travers sat down on the old couch. His fingers, extremely pale, could not help but tremble. His body curved as if protecting himself from pain and harm. Traversers slowly raised his head and moved menacingly towards the door. Thunk, his boots came out onto the solid concrete as he closed up the cabin he called home. The rain lapped at his clothes, causing them to catch in the middle of the paper...... he suffered pain but continued to run faster. He ran upstairs with the man hot on his heels. Travers' heart pounded as he jumped off the banister into the hallway; this made the man even more angry. The man turned to follow Travers but when he climbed the railing the knife slipped from his hand and he fell. The blade landed point up as the man fell and the blade pierced his chest. The man lay on the ground, dead like a mouse caught in a mousetrap. " No ! Not my brother, I'm really sorry for killing your wife that night. It was an accident, please forgive me! cried Travers. He collapsed to the ground in a flood of tears, removed the knife from his brother's heart and plunged it into his left ventricle, piercing his heart. Travers was dead. Silence was the only sound in the cabin; the dreaded curse had finally been lifted from the cabin.