Leaving for The Wall: An exercise in storytelling

As you may or may not know, this blog is part of a project for a Writing for Interactive Media class at Miami International University of Art and Design. We recently did an exercise in creative writing and related a short story inspired by a photo to the general theme of our blogs. Our choice was to engage in the mystery and the tragedy that brings men to join the Night’s Watch.

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I didn’t want to come here. I didn’t want to kill her. I didn’t want to shame my wife’s name. The journey was cold, dark, wet. It only got worse as we progressed towards our destination. Some of my companions frightened me with their stories, their causes. They didn’t regret their choices, they reveled in their wicked-ness, they relished in their chance at survival. Some other companions seemed as sullen as I was. Lords of fallen houses, bastards, sad middle children with no place to go. I was all of them and none of them, all at the same time. I left my good cloaks with my brothers, I left my gold with my child, I left my heart in her grave. I didn’t want to come here. I didn’t want to kill her. I didn’t want to shame my wife’s name. With every bump in our wagon I recalled the thuds of his head, she wouldn’t stop, not even when I called out to her. He is my son, and he will never know me, my true intentions, or the fact that I saved him from the only person he was born to be safe with. It was him or her, I like to think. The thuds echoed in the castle halls, I ran and found her beating our only son. No one knew she would kill him, not even him, as he laid unconscious on the floor. I tried to reason with her, she wouldn’t listen, blind rage burst from her eyes, she had gone mad. I didn’t want to come here. I didn’t want to kill her. I didn’t want to shame my wife’s name. The privileged Lady of the privileged House, she died at the hands of her husband in a fit of rage. She was sweet and kind, she hadn’t gone mad, a Lady like her never could. I didn’t want to come here. I didn’t want to kill her. I didn’t want to shame my wife’s name. I chose to take this path, my son would have still taken my name. A powerful Lord, from a powerful House, with a privileged Lady of his own some day. Their lives were taken too soon, he trusted her as did I, it wasn’t her fault. The powerful Lord ends his privileged Lady and his beloved Heir. They will be remembered in glory, I will be forgotten in the dark. And now their lives are ended, and now my watch begins. I didn’t want to come here. I didn’t want to kill her. I didn’t want to shame my wife’s name

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