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Illustration by KKC Bauder Annie
& Me

A Tribute to Edgar Allan Poe's "Annabel Lee"

Illustration by KKC Bauder

Annie would cry at night because she was afraid
Of the sea
She would scream and cry
And come sleep with me
She would tell all of her worries
And then fall asleep
She would tell of great spiders
On alabaster bones
Dredging up from the ocean
With backs hard as stone
She would tell of abused men
Formed from the surf
That would shuffle to our beach house
She would tell me that
They were not from this Earth.

I would point out the window
Towards the dark sea
Show her the black water
And how she was safe with me.
In the night she would calm
As the time passed by
She would bury her head
In this shoulder of mine.
In this shoulder of mine,
She would weep and cry,
She would hold onto my hand,
Make our fingers intertwine.

Those nights I was happy
And looked towards the sky
And the clouds were sewed with love
And I hugged this Annie of mine.

At day she left me
Departed to go to school
As she walked I hoped and prayed
She obeyed all the rules.
And despite all my worries
Everyday she came home fine
Everyday was an adventure
With this Annie of mine.
She told me of teachers
And of the rules they decreed
She would voice her opinions
And of course, I agreed.
But I was worried when
She told me of the girls
Those dratted little brats
Who spoke ill of her.
I loved her with the love
Of so many days
Our love, our love
It could never be swayed.

One night we went to the water
And she shouted with glee
The old, cold ocean
Delighted my Annie-Lee.
She played and splashed
Until well after nine,
Then we went home,
And this Annie of mine.
But the next day I
Was alerted to see
Annie was sick
And it was all because of me.
That cold, dark water
Had given her a cold,
She lay in bed
A sickly young soul.

The ocean was jealous
Of the love we shared,
The ocean had ruined us,
The ocean didn't care.
One night I lay down
Our hands intertwined
And I felt truly worried for this
Annie of mine.
I remember the poems
And the stories I told
That night that I felt
Annie's fingers go cold.

I put her in the ground
One week after
The grief indescribable
I heard the ocean's laughter.
That night I heard noises
From somewhere in the house
Coming from the door? Was it
A cricket? A mouse?
And then at the window
There my Annie stood
In her nightgown
Covered in blood.
And then so many zombies
Emerged from the sea
All shuffling towards my
Annie and me.

In the morning I screamed
Annie was just an illusion.
Was I an illusion?
Was I just in delusion?
I bundled myself up
In these clothes of mine
Into the cold, misty morning
Ready to die.
I bathed in the water
Felt the cold seep in
Felt the chill sink in,
Into my skin.

I lay next to Annie
My Annie near the sea,
No one will separate
My Annie and me.

You may think me mad
You may think me kind
But that is all fine
For right now I lay with Annie
And ten cold, little fingers
Will intertwine
With mine.

The End

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Gage About the Author: Gage

Gage is a talented 15-year-old author from Florida who began writing for Phoophie Tales at the age of 12. In his free time, he enjoys acting, video games, reading and writing stories. What inspires Gage is reading other great horror stories and wanting to make his own to inspire others.

about the illustrator, kkc bauder

About the Artist:

KKC is a second generation artist from Texas. She was raised on abstract expressionism and loves playing with line, color and motion to create free-form paintings that can be interpretated in many different ways. Her work is inspired by Music and Literature. You can visit her art shop at: Cool Unique Original Art | apparel & gifts

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