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.