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Tuesday, September 17, 2013

My Lonesome Place

Veja Hamilton
Blog Option #4

In “The Lonesome Place” by August Derleth, the two main characters in the story are afraid to walk through this scary place in town that not a lot people visit. In the story, the boys are terrified to walk through this area, especially at night because there really isn’t very good lighting at night because there really isn’t very good lighting and they feel as if there is some creature lurking in the shadows ready to pounce and hurt them. Both of the boys try to tell their parents about the place but neither of their parents really listens to them. Johnny Newell even gets a whipping because he tried to tell his patents and they didn’t like what he had to say. In the text, Steve says “What do grown-up people know about the things boys are afraid of? Oh, hickory switches and such like, they know that. But what about what goes on in their minds when they have to come home alone at night through the lonesome places?” When I read that, it got me thinking about an experience of my own that I’ve had at a place that I thought was scary when I was a kid. At the age of about eight years old, my family and I had just moved in to a new apartment complex. It wasn’t in the nicest area, and there were a lot of sketchy people who lived there. After we got settled in, I started to make friends and we would play outside all day long until it got dark. But at night, there was a man that would hang around the park and watch us walk home. I would tell my parents that something wasn’t right about the way that old man would watch us. It gave me goose bumps. But my parents just ignored me and blew me off. This went on for a few weeks. Until one day I woke up and went to play with my friends at the park. Only to discover that the park was blocked off and police were surrounding it. I soon found out that it had become a crime scene for a murder. One of the kids I played with always walked home a different way than me and my brother, and he walked alone. It didn’t take long for news to travel around about what had happened. The creepy old man that I warned my parents about, had killed that innocent kid and had beat him to death. I remember the shocking look on my parents face, and my mom had even cried. She kept saying “that could’ve been you or your brother. I should’ve listened.” We weren’t allowed to stay out until dark ever again while we lived there. It took something bad happening like an innocent kid’s life being taken, for my parents to finally start listening to what my brother and I had to say.

Derleth, August.“The Lonesome Place”.American Gothic Tales. Ed. Joyce Carol Oates. New York: Plume, 1996. 2191-198. Print. 

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