MonkeyCatcher
New Member
For my English class I have to write either a prequel or a sequel to a text that we have studied so far this year. I decided to do a prequel to The Shawshank Redemption, and I would really like some pointers on how to improve my story. The assignment is to try and catch the behaviour etc of the characters as much as possible, tying the story in with the actual one using quotes and such, as well as writing something which is probable. I really need all the help I can get - I'm horrible at writing. It would be great if anyone who has seen the movie can comment on weither of not it rings true to the original story. So here goes, and please keep in mind that this is a prequel to the movie, not the novella.
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Andy's eyes flicked once again over his immaculate image reflected in the mirror, his appraising gaze agreeing with what he saw. He nodded at his choice of apparel – the crisp, clean suit worked together nicely with his sleekly styled hair to give off an aura of authority and confidence. He snapped the heels of his highly polished shoes together as he turned from the mirror, admiring his perfect posture. As he strode through the door to the hallway, he stooped to retrieve his briefcase, previously pack as always, and closed the door to his spotless, orderly room.
Andy glanced at the ornate clock gleaming proudly above the entrance to the kitchen as he made his way in, the highly polished frame sparking in the light thrown out by the near-by lamp. 6:15 – right on agenda. The early fingers if light creeping over the horizon caught Andy’s eye as he entered the flawlessly tidy kitchen. The dawn rays danced on the buffed surfaces of rock figures displayed proudly on the window-sill, and reflected harshly off the immaculately clean appliances strewn around the kitchen, each carefully placed, so it seemed, as to reflect as much light as possible into the eyes of unaware entrants.
A shadow passing over his eyes, bringing a moment of relief to his smarting eyes, caused him to look up into the smiling face of his wife, her golden hair strewn in a halo around her heavenly face, the outline of light streaming in through the window acting as an aura of saintliness. His eyes met hers as he smiled his reserved smile, then broadened into a grin reserved only for extreme cases of hilarity and for his beautiful wife, Lizzy.
“Did you sleep well?” Her calm voice broke the silence, echoing through the empty kitchen. As he gazed up into the serenity of her beautiful face, he felt, not for the first time, a moment of regret and sadness. Regret at never being able to find the right words to say in order to explain to her how much he adored her, and sadness at knowing he never would, knowing that she would never fully understand, and knowing that she was slipping away because of it. “Very well, thank you.” His grin slackened, his features once again slipping into his mask of indifference, and the fire that had been dancing in the depths of his eyes was extinguished.
“I might be a little late home today, I’m playing cards with the girls tonight.” Andy raised his eyes towards Lizzy, swallowing the last of his freshly-brewed tea as he did so. “That makes it three times this week. You and your girls certainly are into your gambling,” he answered, and for a split-second he saw, well at least he thought he saw, a flicker of guilt pass over her face before it was replaced again by her placid, lovely features. “Well, you know… there’s nothing like having a good chat with the ladies whilst spending your money at the same time. Are you finished with those?” Lizzy motioned towards his empty cup and half-eaten breakfast, and Andy nodded his assent.
As she turned on him, dirty dishes in hand and a whistle playing on her lips, Andy allowed his groomed eyebrows to crease together, his face perfectly mirroring the puzzlement he felt inside. Had he imagined it? He didn’t think he had, he was always so attentive to detail that most things didn’t escape his attention. Then why, he puzzled? Why had she changed the subject so quickly, and to ask him something that she has never had to ask before? The clock in the hallway let out a loud chime, and Andy pushed the bubble of doubt rising within him away as he stood to kiss his wife goodbye. No need to start a conflict, he reasoned, as he leaned over towards his smiling Lizzy.
Some people would consider Andy’s job a dull and monotonous one, but Andy actually found it enjoyable. He liked the way in which each number had a specific place of its own, the comfort of reliable formulas, and the smell of newly-polished wood. He liked the way in which his job was governed by a set of rigid rules, rules which could be applied to any situation, rules which set a guideline on which to be followed. Andy immersed himself in his work that morning, the numbers and equations allowing him to relax into a world where everything is reliable, a world in which nothing is ever uncertain.
Andy looked up as he heard his name being called, and noticed a tall, large man in a dark business suit striding towards him. “Andy, Andy DuFresne?” Andy glanced quizzically at the man, his plump face unfamiliar to him. “Yes.” The stranger laughed, making the air tremble with his deep, booming glee. “Geez, you haven’t changed a bit, still a man of few words, eh? It’s me, Mike, Mike Wilson.” Andy’s face lit up in recognition, images of his school days dancing in his head. “Mike! Well you’re looking… healthy.” Andy appraised the new Mike, noting his wide girth and plump face, a startling change from the skinny runt of a boy he knew from school. Again Mike let out his booming laugh, “Yeah, I’ve been living life a little large than I did when I was younger. Say, how would you like to join me for coffee? I found a place that makes the best damn stuff you have ever tasted.” Andy smiled his reserved smile, and nodded his assent. “Sure, Mike.” Mike grinned and shook his head slowly. “Have not changed one damn bit.”
Andy sat at his orderly desk, his eyes holding a vacant expression, his mind working overtime. For the second time that day he found himself second-guessing his sight, his mind mulling over possibilities and doubts.
He had taken coffee with Mike as soon as his lunch hour came around. Mike had dragged him along to a café situated way over the other side of town. Mike had chatted incessantly during their coffee, Andy nodding most of the time and occasionally adding a word or two. It was just as they were leaving the café when the moment he had been mulling over all afternoon occurred. As he had stood up to leave, his eyes had strayed over the dimly-lit room, catching sight of the people hid behind the decorative partition set in the middle of the room. It was the couple sitting right up against the partition that had caught his eye, their clasped hands and the man’s adoring eyes rekindling memories of his early dates with his then-girlfriend. His reminiscences had been cut short a moment later, however, when the fawning woman with her back to him, had moved her head fractionally to the side. He could have sworn it was Lizzy, but how could it have been? He was unable to catch another sight as he was bustled out the door by Mike. Andy had strained his head for one last glance as he was rushed out, but the mystery woman – Lizzy? – had turned her back on him again.
Andy opened his eyes as he heard his wife creep into the room. The light from the hallway making his eyes smart. He had determinedly lay awake that night in order to talk to his wife when she arrived home, which had not posed a problem as he didn’t think he could have slept a wink if he had tried.
He had searched through her things that night, the last resort of a desperate man, sick of turning possibilities over in his mind, sick of second-guessing, and sick to the bones with worrying that what he thought to be true really was. He had found the very thing he had dreaded finding hidden deep among her things, a piece of paper which simply said, David, coffee at 12:30, and then an address for a house located in the wealthy part of town. His heart had sunk at the discovery, his worst fears confirmed.
And now, as he lay in bed, listening to his wife quietly getting ready to climb in next to him, he found that he could not say a word, could not find any way to communicate what he felt to his betrayer, his one true love, could not force the words he had so carefully planned as he lay awake out of his mouth. He feigned sleep as his wife crawled into bed, his heart heavy and the beginnings of tears, even rarer than his wide smile, gathering in the corners of his eyes.
He dreamt of the day he proposed to her, his Lizzy, that night. He remembered the clam blue of the sky, the chirping of the crickets, and the tall, grand oak tree under which they had had their picnic. He remembered her eyes shining in the reflected whites of the clouds, the way her face lit up as he gazed up at her on one knee, and the sparkle in her eyes as he finished his question. But most of all he remembered and cherished the sound of her voice as she had said, “Yes,” the moment at which he had believed all his dreams had come true.
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Andy's eyes flicked once again over his immaculate image reflected in the mirror, his appraising gaze agreeing with what he saw. He nodded at his choice of apparel – the crisp, clean suit worked together nicely with his sleekly styled hair to give off an aura of authority and confidence. He snapped the heels of his highly polished shoes together as he turned from the mirror, admiring his perfect posture. As he strode through the door to the hallway, he stooped to retrieve his briefcase, previously pack as always, and closed the door to his spotless, orderly room.
Andy glanced at the ornate clock gleaming proudly above the entrance to the kitchen as he made his way in, the highly polished frame sparking in the light thrown out by the near-by lamp. 6:15 – right on agenda. The early fingers if light creeping over the horizon caught Andy’s eye as he entered the flawlessly tidy kitchen. The dawn rays danced on the buffed surfaces of rock figures displayed proudly on the window-sill, and reflected harshly off the immaculately clean appliances strewn around the kitchen, each carefully placed, so it seemed, as to reflect as much light as possible into the eyes of unaware entrants.
A shadow passing over his eyes, bringing a moment of relief to his smarting eyes, caused him to look up into the smiling face of his wife, her golden hair strewn in a halo around her heavenly face, the outline of light streaming in through the window acting as an aura of saintliness. His eyes met hers as he smiled his reserved smile, then broadened into a grin reserved only for extreme cases of hilarity and for his beautiful wife, Lizzy.
“Did you sleep well?” Her calm voice broke the silence, echoing through the empty kitchen. As he gazed up into the serenity of her beautiful face, he felt, not for the first time, a moment of regret and sadness. Regret at never being able to find the right words to say in order to explain to her how much he adored her, and sadness at knowing he never would, knowing that she would never fully understand, and knowing that she was slipping away because of it. “Very well, thank you.” His grin slackened, his features once again slipping into his mask of indifference, and the fire that had been dancing in the depths of his eyes was extinguished.
“I might be a little late home today, I’m playing cards with the girls tonight.” Andy raised his eyes towards Lizzy, swallowing the last of his freshly-brewed tea as he did so. “That makes it three times this week. You and your girls certainly are into your gambling,” he answered, and for a split-second he saw, well at least he thought he saw, a flicker of guilt pass over her face before it was replaced again by her placid, lovely features. “Well, you know… there’s nothing like having a good chat with the ladies whilst spending your money at the same time. Are you finished with those?” Lizzy motioned towards his empty cup and half-eaten breakfast, and Andy nodded his assent.
As she turned on him, dirty dishes in hand and a whistle playing on her lips, Andy allowed his groomed eyebrows to crease together, his face perfectly mirroring the puzzlement he felt inside. Had he imagined it? He didn’t think he had, he was always so attentive to detail that most things didn’t escape his attention. Then why, he puzzled? Why had she changed the subject so quickly, and to ask him something that she has never had to ask before? The clock in the hallway let out a loud chime, and Andy pushed the bubble of doubt rising within him away as he stood to kiss his wife goodbye. No need to start a conflict, he reasoned, as he leaned over towards his smiling Lizzy.
Some people would consider Andy’s job a dull and monotonous one, but Andy actually found it enjoyable. He liked the way in which each number had a specific place of its own, the comfort of reliable formulas, and the smell of newly-polished wood. He liked the way in which his job was governed by a set of rigid rules, rules which could be applied to any situation, rules which set a guideline on which to be followed. Andy immersed himself in his work that morning, the numbers and equations allowing him to relax into a world where everything is reliable, a world in which nothing is ever uncertain.
Andy looked up as he heard his name being called, and noticed a tall, large man in a dark business suit striding towards him. “Andy, Andy DuFresne?” Andy glanced quizzically at the man, his plump face unfamiliar to him. “Yes.” The stranger laughed, making the air tremble with his deep, booming glee. “Geez, you haven’t changed a bit, still a man of few words, eh? It’s me, Mike, Mike Wilson.” Andy’s face lit up in recognition, images of his school days dancing in his head. “Mike! Well you’re looking… healthy.” Andy appraised the new Mike, noting his wide girth and plump face, a startling change from the skinny runt of a boy he knew from school. Again Mike let out his booming laugh, “Yeah, I’ve been living life a little large than I did when I was younger. Say, how would you like to join me for coffee? I found a place that makes the best damn stuff you have ever tasted.” Andy smiled his reserved smile, and nodded his assent. “Sure, Mike.” Mike grinned and shook his head slowly. “Have not changed one damn bit.”
Andy sat at his orderly desk, his eyes holding a vacant expression, his mind working overtime. For the second time that day he found himself second-guessing his sight, his mind mulling over possibilities and doubts.
He had taken coffee with Mike as soon as his lunch hour came around. Mike had dragged him along to a café situated way over the other side of town. Mike had chatted incessantly during their coffee, Andy nodding most of the time and occasionally adding a word or two. It was just as they were leaving the café when the moment he had been mulling over all afternoon occurred. As he had stood up to leave, his eyes had strayed over the dimly-lit room, catching sight of the people hid behind the decorative partition set in the middle of the room. It was the couple sitting right up against the partition that had caught his eye, their clasped hands and the man’s adoring eyes rekindling memories of his early dates with his then-girlfriend. His reminiscences had been cut short a moment later, however, when the fawning woman with her back to him, had moved her head fractionally to the side. He could have sworn it was Lizzy, but how could it have been? He was unable to catch another sight as he was bustled out the door by Mike. Andy had strained his head for one last glance as he was rushed out, but the mystery woman – Lizzy? – had turned her back on him again.
Andy opened his eyes as he heard his wife creep into the room. The light from the hallway making his eyes smart. He had determinedly lay awake that night in order to talk to his wife when she arrived home, which had not posed a problem as he didn’t think he could have slept a wink if he had tried.
He had searched through her things that night, the last resort of a desperate man, sick of turning possibilities over in his mind, sick of second-guessing, and sick to the bones with worrying that what he thought to be true really was. He had found the very thing he had dreaded finding hidden deep among her things, a piece of paper which simply said, David, coffee at 12:30, and then an address for a house located in the wealthy part of town. His heart had sunk at the discovery, his worst fears confirmed.
And now, as he lay in bed, listening to his wife quietly getting ready to climb in next to him, he found that he could not say a word, could not find any way to communicate what he felt to his betrayer, his one true love, could not force the words he had so carefully planned as he lay awake out of his mouth. He feigned sleep as his wife crawled into bed, his heart heavy and the beginnings of tears, even rarer than his wide smile, gathering in the corners of his eyes.
He dreamt of the day he proposed to her, his Lizzy, that night. He remembered the clam blue of the sky, the chirping of the crickets, and the tall, grand oak tree under which they had had their picnic. He remembered her eyes shining in the reflected whites of the clouds, the way her face lit up as he gazed up at her on one knee, and the sparkle in her eyes as he finished his question. But most of all he remembered and cherished the sound of her voice as she had said, “Yes,” the moment at which he had believed all his dreams had come true.
