Fictional Play example essay topic

I was sitting at my desk in my candle-lit room, a gentle breeze made the candle flicker and a chill ran down my spine. I remember having a strange feeling, as if there was another spirit present, it is hard to explain, but it was nothing like I had ever felt before. The breeze was making me shiver and it was getting colder as time passed, I picked up my lantern and walked across to the window and pulled it to, but still left it slightly ajar, I liked the feel of the air, but today it did not feel the same. I walked back to my desk and placed my lantern down again. My room was becoming duller as the seconds ticked by.

It was eight in the evening, I thought I would have written something by now. I picked up my quill and sat and thought, and thought, and thought. Nothing! My mind was somewhere else, but I did not know where.

I moved across the room to look out of the window at the stars. Distant in the darkening sky. I sat and watched by my attention was distracted by a light banging sound, although quiet it startled me. I looked over and my small pot of ink had been tipped over, spilled across my paper.

I walked over to my desk and picked up the pot with what was left of the ink. Of the little work I had done, it was ruined, impaired, and un-readable! I screwed the paper into a tiny ball and threw it onto a pile along with several others. I figured I would not get much work done any time soon so I put away my quill and what was left of the ink, I picked up my lantern and walked across to the door. I became aware that my door was slightly ajar.

I closed it and walked back. I was startled, were my eyes playing tricks on me? I doubt it. There standing by my desk was something un-imaginable, something that shocked me more than I knew possible, a ghost. The Ghost of Richard the Third. I did not know how to react, I was shocked, too shocked to move, to scared to know what was going on.

THE Richard Plantagenet. He had died over one hundred years ago and he was standing right in front of me. Walking towards me. A faint voice came from the figure, "Why?" That is all that was said! "Why what?" I replied "Why did you destroy me? What did I do to deserve this?

People will think of me as a criminal, a murderer, un-worthy of my titles! I was killed a hero, a legend, now I am thought of as a villain and all because one person twisted the truth! "You made people think I murdered Lady Anne, when you know that is not what happened. When she died I felt hurt, destroyed, like I could not go on! I loved her, my years with her were better than I imagined life to be and you made people think I murdered her!"I did not... I mean...

It is a fictional play, not factual, anyone who reads it will know that!" I did not know what to say, but I had to fine a way to convince him that this would be a reputable play. "Just because something in history is unknown does not mean you can go around accusing people. I had nothing to do with them I did not kill anyone for my personal gain. Only in battle was death on my mind, and that was for the safety of my country, my family, NOT myself!" Richard was infuriated! With me! I know he had every reason to be, but I was afraid, of a spirit, a figure, maybe just a part of my mind, not real!

"My intention was not to destroy you, only to show how the truth can be perceived for our entertainment. I never meant to destroy anyone's view of the truth, only to entertain them with a fictional tale". I nervously replied. "Whether it was your intention or not, you still portrayed the past incorrectly and made me into a monster! Not who I really was! I was a worthy leader and a wise one.

I was neither someone who was as selfish nor shallow as you have created me to be, I was not deformed nor 'a bottle spider'. He replied angrily. "There is only one thing about me that you got right, that I was courageous and would have done anything for my country! If I had to live my life again I would live it the same, I have no regrets!" I felt bad, I had made a generous gentleman out to be a malevolent monster. All I ever wanted to do was write, not create false truth. How could I change it?

I did not want to. People would still see him as a hero. I was sure of it! I just had to show him that. In defence of t he play I offered, "I am sorry for giving people the impression that you were evil, but it is merely entertainment, false truth! The people that read this know that and their view of you will not be changed.

You are still seen as the fearless, brace and courageous King that you were!" Just as I finished speaking, I looked over at Richard. He was standing motionless. I walked towards him but he was starting to dwindle. Had I changed his mind about my play?

Was he still the hero? I really hope so!