Vincent Malloy is seven years old.He’s always polite and does what he’s told.For a boy his age, he’s considerate and nice.But he wants to be just like Vincent Price.He doesn’t mind living with his sister, dog and cats.Though he’d rather share a home with spiders and bats.There he could reflect on the horrors he’s invented.And wander dark hallways, alone and tormented.Vincent is nice when his aunt comes to see him.But imagines dipping her in wax for his wax museum.He likes to experiment on his dog Abercrombie.In the hopes of creating a horrible zombie.So he and his horrible zombie dog.Could go searching for victims in the London fog.His thoughts, though, aren’t only of ghoulish crimes.He likes to paint and read to pass some of the times.While other kids read books like Go, Jane, Go!Vincent’s favourite author is Edgar Allen Poe.One night, while reading a gruesome tale.He read a passage that made him turn pale.Such horrible news he could not survive.For his beautiful wife had been buried alive!He dug out her grave to make sure she was dead.Unaware that her grave was his mother’s flower bed.His mother sent Vincent off to his room.He knew he’d been banished to the tower of doom.Where he was sentenced to spend the rest of his life.Alone with the portrait of his beautiful wife.While alone and insane encased in his tomb.Vincent’s mother burst suddenly into the room.She said: “If you want to, you can go out and play,It’s sunny outside, and a beautiful day”.Vincent tried to talk, but he just couldn’t speak.The years of isolation had made him quite weak.So he took out some paper and scrawled with a pen:“I am possessed by this house, and can never leave it again”His mother said: “You’re not possessed, and you’re not almost deadThese games that you play are all in your headYou’re not Vincent Price, you’re Vincent MalloyYou’re not tormented or insane, you’re just a young boyYou’re seven years old and you are my sonI want you to get outside and have some real fun."Her anger now spent, she walked out through the hall.And while Vincent backed slowly against the wall.The room started to swell, to shiver and creak.His horrid insanity had reached its peak.He saw Abercrombie, his zombie slave.And heard his wife call from beyond the grave.She spoke from her coffin and made ghoulish demands.While, through cracking walls, reached skeleton hands.Every horror in his life that had crept through his dreams.Swept his mad laughter to terrified screams!To escape the madness, he reached for the door.But fell limp and lifeless down on the floor.His voice was soft and very slow.As he quoted The Raven from Edgar Allen Poe:“and my soul from out that shadowthat lies floating on the floorshall be lifted?Nevermore…”

Annons

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September 2010