For this week’s Powerful Word post I’m sticking with the theme of FEAR, so I chose the word “Bloodcurdling”. The definition that I got when I looked it up was: Causing terror or horror. Indeed, a very powerful word. This one word could be used to some of the grossest attacks by humans or by what some see as monsters. (What I see as monsters doesn’t always mesh well with what others view as monstrous.) Now the after affect of a horrendous attack sure stirs similar emotions in pretty much everyone, even if they don’t show.
When an author uses the word Bloodcurdling, it allows them to form images and a connection of some sort with the character or event. Each person’s reaction may manifest and be shown in different ways. Comes right down to it, every one has a grotesque meter inside them. Take my mom and me for example, when I was around 12, the woman hated to watch any kind of horror movie. I loved them, the bloodier and more guts the better. Over the year I’ve noticed that me watching these movies no longer bother her, as bad as they did. Oh, she still dislikes them as much as ever, but she’s grown accustom to hearing them and catching glimpse of them as I enjoy my movies.
Now, I’ve chatted your ear off about the word Bloodcurdling, let’s move onto a small scene using the word.
* * * This scene is unedited * * *
Ocean waves crashed against the rocks, creating a peaceful and relaxing sound. My mind should have been a million miles away from the memory that kept me shivering under the sheets each night, but of course it wasn’t. It wanted what it always does, a way to go back and change what had happened. Make the nightmare never come to life.
Several people have given me their opinion on how to rid myself of these nightmares, but there is no way. You can’t rid your mind of the image of your family, friends, and strangers strapped into their seats as deadly, hot, red flames inched their way towards them. You can’t rid your ears of the bloodcurdling screams of the other passengers as they begged and pleaded for help. You can’t rid your body of the all consuming shakes each time you jerk straight up in your bed from seeing and hearing these things each and ever night. Nor can you eradicate the knowledge that there was not one damn thing you could have done to assist any of them, because you had been tossed from your seat after forgetting to buckle up, and pinned under a huge slab of the airplane.
Simply put, there is nothing anyone can do for me, unless they have a time machine. Then I could retract my steps, ensure, somehow, that the plane was searched for the person, who stowed away for the sole purpose of killing me. I’d gladly give myself to them in return for the lives of my family, friends and those strangers. Since my death won’t bring them back, I live for them. Or attempt to. I’m sure they would say what I do is not living, but I keep striving forwards each day, which is why I once again find myself stretched out in the bed, listening as waves create a cocoon of ease.
Hope everyone has an amazing week.
Remember let your imagination soar when reading and writing.