• #1
    New: Download as PDF (Recommended for Reading)


    This is not really fan fiction, but I think that doesn't matter. I was listening to something Link shared with me some months ago at the time and really loved the song. I couldn't stop listening to it even though the words had no power. It was a very odd experience. Nonetheless, something in the music gave me some weird inspiration, and this is what came out after two hours of writing without looking back and looping whatever the song was.

    No, I have never been in any relationships. I have no idea what they're like. This is just the image that was in my head.

    Italicized text functions as thought, memory, and the independent workings of his mind. It may get confusing toward the end.

    I named it Walter, I named him Walter, because I believe that the name holds some strange amount of emotional power in my brain that I can't explain. Ironically, my mother was almost married to a Walter before I was born. I don't know what happened.

    Update (02/08/2010): The new PDF version is the final version of Walter. Some minor changes have been made, a page has been added for reading clarification, a brief history, and a small dedication. Please download it, as it is a lot better for reading purposes. Print it out. Share it. I would love to hear some feedback.

    You can download the complete PDF version by clicking here.

    [/HR]New: Download as PDF (Recommended for Reading)


    <input type='button' class='bbc_spoiler_show' value='Show Walter' />
    Sharp wind blows. Walter pulls his scarf tight over the folds of his collar. His baggy winter coat has seen better days. Inhales, exhales, draws up short on breath, and coughs hard on unforgiving frigid air. Grey clouds march on above, the sun is gone and stars are newly set.

    Don't take me there, thought begs in his mind. Don't take me back to that night, so long ago, so far... I'm so tired. Please...

    He blinks his eyes hard against the bleak light of winter. “It wasn't my fault”, he says.

    It wasn't my fault, Clara wouldn't listen.

    His legs are aching, sore. He curls his dry palm tightly.


    Her ring, it's still here. It's still in my hand.

    Don't take me there, his mind begs him once more. I'm so tired.

    “Shut up!” he shouts. “You weren't there! I was alone.”

    Why didn't I think about it? Why did I do it?

    Her soft whisper lingers in his mind. “Walter, I...”

    His heart falters as he remembers. He stumbles along the concrete, the bridge falling away behind him in to a sour memory. An empty beer bottle is held to his chest, his talisman against heartache.

    “Walter, I...-”

    “No! Leave me alone!”

    Don't take me there, I'm so tired.

    “Shut up!”

    “Walter, I want you to know I loved you...”

    He bites his lip hard. “I damn well know you loved me! Leave me alone!”

    Her whispers call from the waterside. “Please, Walter, if I had known... If you had said something sooner...”

    His right hand quivers. A trickle of blood slips down along his fingers. He opens his curled fist to see the diamond silver-gold ring cutting deeply in to his flesh.

    His eyes are heavy with pain, tired.

    “I didn't know, Walter! Walter, please! I can still love you!”

    “What do you know? Run off with him, don't tell me! Don't goddamn tell me!”

    “It was... too hard to say.”

    He chokes up but the tears will not come. Frustrated at his inability to cry any longer, he shouts out to the world: “You should have told me there was someone else, bitch! I... I gave everything for this stupid thing!” He stares maddened at the ring in his bloodied hand. “I gave everything for you!”

    “You were too slow, too late. He asked first, what could I say?”

    He twists his left hand around the neck of the empty bottle, turning wildly around to face the river. “You could have said no!”

    Her hair ripples in the harsh, deep blue winter night. Her lips are natural, smooth. Everything she seems, she is. Beautiful.

    Where did I go wrong?

    His mind is screaming for silence. Tired! Tired!

    The sky is heaving up and down. Red and blue lights flash in the distance far behind him, far in his past, back where he was last night. He sits on an iron bench, cold and unyielding, and his legs begin to fidget, hands to shake. He closes his eyes for a moment, his mind is so tired.

    “Please, Walter! It's a beautiful ring!”

    “But that one's better, right? But his is better? That's how it always is! Sorry I'm not damn perfect!”

    “It isn't like that!”

    She holds the ring in her hand, her perfect, smooth, flawless hand, every finger adorned with the grace of silver moonlight.

    He opens his eyes again. A siren wails in the distance. His body is shaking. The diamond of the ring became a ruby in his blood, his pain.

    He stands up again, slowly, as the blood rushes to his head. Why didn't she just leave-

    “Just leave!” he shouts.

    Her chest is heaving, her heart racing. “But I do love you! I didn't want this to happen! I didn't have a choice!”

    He turns from her, “It's all ruined. I shouldn't have asked. I shouldn't have gotten that ring.”

    She touches his shoulder. The touch that once evoked fire on his skin now feels oddly powerless.

    “Don't touch me.”

    “I want to touch you-”

    “I said don't touch me!”

    Without thinking, he smacks her hand off his shoulder.

    His eyes open once more. He must have dosed off again.

    He stops dead as he sees where he is.

    The river is right in front of him.

    Red and blue lights, a siren, a cacophony of shouts, all mixed and stirred like a mad dream.

    So tired, pleads his mind. Tired! I need sleep!

    “Sir? Sir, step away from the ledge!”


    “I... I can hear her. She still loves me...”

    “Walter, I love you... Please...”

    Don't leave, Clara! Please!

    “You're almost here, Walter! I can see you!”

    Lifeless, cold, wet, it drifts in the black water.

    A gasp ripples through the world behind Walter. “There! Look!” Screams ensue.

    “Walter, I love you, please... Hand me the ring. We can be together...”

    He feels his feet crunch in fresh snow on the bank.

    Her high cheek bones and slender, careful grace enchant him. Her slender, pale hand beckons him. Tears drip from his red, sore eyes.

    Tired, so tired...

    “You're so close, Walter! I can almost feel you...”

    “Step away from the river, sir! We will restrain you!”

    But she's so close...

    “Clara, please take my ring,” Walter whispers to the wind.

    She smiles her angelic smile, her mouth parting to reveal diamond teeth set in soft, simple lips.

    The ring is pristine, shining, beautiful.

    “Get a helicopter on the radio! Sir! Step away from the ledge!”

    “Walter? Walter! Stop!” The voice is familiar, matronly. “Walter!”

    His eyes slowly draw closed.

    Clara takes him in her arms, her soft cheek leaning quietly on his forehead. Her hand closes around his. She feels oddly cold, but he is so tired.

    Bleak winter light flashes in strange shapes, dancing around him like the Northern Lights.

    Clara's cheek softly leans against his forehead. She kisses him lightly, her hand closing around his. Her hand is so cold...

    The ring leaves his hand, slides on her delicate finger...

  • #2
    It's a lovely work of art. The limbo his mind is in after leaving Carla is portrayed wonderfully. I have to admit that I had to read it twice before knowing what everything meant, but that only adds to the charm.

    The ending is also cool. The mixture between an open and closed ending is enticing.

    I'm going to start on The Veiling now.
  • #3
    Quote from "Shatterer" »
    It's a lovely work of art. The limbo his mind is in after leaving Carla is portrayed wonderfully. I have to admit that I had to read it twice before knowing what everything meant, but that only adds to the charm.

    [spoil]Thank you heartily- I think what really helped me describe his limbo existence after murdering his girlfriend was the music I was listening to. It created s strange but enticing... envelope of sound? It's hard to explain. I really wish I could find it again.

    The person at the end, the one with the "matronly voice" was his mother. I tried to say that in one word ("matronly") and didn't want to make it a focus, but at the same time I wanted people to see two things: one, that there are other people who still care about him and not all was lost, and two, that he loved Clara so much that he was willing to forsake that for a love in death.

    The "bleak winter lights" were, of course, the refraction of the outside light as he drowned in the river he pushed Clara in to in his rage at her denial of his love, and thus he never finish proposing to her, which is why the ring was still in his hand. This latter part was also an analogy of his unwillingness to accept her death. There was also another one...

    His right hand quivers. A trickle of blood slips down along his fingers. He opens his curled fist to see the diamond silver-gold ring cutting deeply in to his flesh.

    The diamond ring set in silver-gold... This is more opinion, but I believe that diamonds are the purest of crystals, and that silver-gold looks similarly pure and simple in taste. Therefore, the ring represented not only the love he couldn't let go, but also Clara, herself, as she was dead- a corpse floating in icy water would obviously be pale and "pure" looking. The blood on his hand, well, comes from the expression "[so-and-so]'s blood is on your hands", restating that he killed her, but without directly saying so to the reader.

    There are many others, some that I cut out because they didn't "feel" right when I read them, but I have to get ready for school for today.[/spoil]

    The ending is also cool. The mixture between an open and closed ending is enticing.

    [spoil]Exactly! Drowning and death are obvious signs of the end (and drowning is also a good tool for creating tension, which I tried to build in the end in numerous ways, not the least of which was many characters all speaking at once- his mind, himself, Clara, the police, and his mother), but marriage- when he finally gave her the ring- is a symbol of a new journey begun. It could also be said that we don't know if the "rest" was absolute- maybe after this he was brought back to consciousness by a rescue team, only to live on in a misery he could never outrun- maybe living with a sickness for the rest of his life as a metaphor of his immersion in to death with Clara but his escape of the same fate he forced on her in some way (I didn't word that the best). You could also say that there are multiple characters that could also have their stories told.[/spoil]

    I'm going to start on The Veiling now.

    I would treasure that beyond words :*)
  • #4
    Forgot to critique this here, I ended up ranting about it in a comment on the most recent community spotlight, though.
    So I'm not just reading this now.

    .. Anywho.

    This is definitely one of the better short stories I've read.
    Most try and fail at being deep, because there simply isn't enough time to effectively convey emotions, and leave an impact on the reader.
    You however, threw that right out the window.

    This really did leave an emotional impact on me, I found myself feeling sorry for Walter for quite some time after I had read it. Now, it didn't bend me out of shape and make me consider calling Walter up to console him, but for a time, I was really wondering what became of Walter, what his history with Clara was, and who the man was who took her from him.

    I want to read more about him, but at the same time, I know that another installment may ruin the mystique for me. The ending was superb, making the reader draw their own conclusions was a good move, it takes that emotional connection already established (for myself, at least), and draws it into Walter's fate.

    On one hand, I want him to actually have found Clara, and that by rest, you meant that he was able to finally put his sorrows to rest by way of being with her. But, on the other hand, I have a sinking (lolpun) feeling that he committed suicide, and by rest, you meant death.

    Anywho, don't mean to sound like a kiss ass, but I'd give it a 10/10. Write more shit like this, it's fantastic.
    Quote from "Sixen" »
    "One in every 10 million people can potentially have a headache from this pill." God forbid she is the 0.000000001% of having a headache.
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