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Annabel Lee: Analysis

By hamo94 Apr 13, 2013 1247 Words
Annabel Lee Creative Response

The untold story

Many of you will have undoubtedly read the chilling but somewhat exciting ‘Annabel Lee’ by Edgar Allan Poe. However, there is an untold story that lurks, an untold story about Annabel Lee that furiously expands on the original poem. This story is uncovered in the next few lines…

The story:
In an enormous kingdom by the sea, a kingdom filled with blooming flowers, filled with green pasture and chilling fountains, a maiden by the name of Annabel Lee sat silently. The waves lapped gently, for nothing could disturb her peaceful stature. The sky was a dark blue colour, so dark that the sea and the sky seemed to merge together. Her beautiful, blonde hair flapped in the wind, hair so light that even the gentlest breeze could lift. A tender smile etched on her face, she stared at the horizon, the sunlight reflecting her golden features. Birds crowed as if they were signifying another bright, wonderful day. Even the creatures that existed on the land seemed to marvel in her glorious presence.

A small boy crouched under a bush nearby, his huge, blue eyes fixated on Annabel. His dark brown hair merged perfectly with the crisp brown dirt. He sat there for hours everyday, so concentrated with his thoughts that thunder could not penetrate the mighty castle that was his mind, so concentrated that even the worms and bugs that existed below were envious of his constant concentration. It was impossible to determine exactly what thoughts he was conjuring up inside his brain; however, it was evident that he had thoughts about the fair maiden known as Annabel Lee. He would sit here every afternoon, gazing into the distance, the same distance that innocent Annabel Lee would sit.

One day, it seemed as if he had gathered up his wits, for he rushed down the smooth, green, gentle slope. He ran for a while, the distance between him and Annabel Lee growing ever closer. Suddenly, he stood behind her, breathless. His face, devoid of emotion, faced her slender back. Yet she continued to gaze into the distance as if she was a sculpture or statue. A teardrop fell down from the sky, undoubtedly from one of the winged seraphs of heaven into her pale, unblemished hand. The teardrop seemed to move her, for she clenched her hand, eyes contorted with a sense of displeasure. Abruptly, she snapped her head back; her expression has all of a sudden turned nasty. She shouts out a few, unrecognisable words in an accusative tone. The boy, shocked, spurted out, mouth twisted in agony. He twisted and sprinted away, back to the bush that had become his hideout.

But they were both young and of a ripe age for, after the incident, just two days later, the boy once again approached Annabel Lee, this time with more confidence. They started talking, evidently showing interest in each other. This time, no teardrop fell from the sky. Not a single disturbance was noted as even the creatures of the land, sky, and sea were at peace, gazing in their direction. It seemed as this was the birth of a new King and Queen for the power of love that emanated from them was unmistakeable and mighty. This love was so powerful it was worth more than their weight combined in gold. The situation felt like one of those ‘love at first sight’ meetings, however, it was to a much higher degree.

From that day on, their meetings became more frequent, more exciting. Their love blossomed like a mirabilis flower, so fast yet continuing to grow in speed. It became so strong that even the winged seraphs of heaven (or the angels of heaven) became to envy their love and to desire them. It seemed parallel, the angels’ envy and their love, ever growing.

Less than a year later, the angels seem to have had enough. During another one of the boy and Annabel’s countless meetings in the majestic kingdom by the sea, the angels summoned and struck up an enormous wind, wishing to claim the boy. However, even angels make mistakes occasionally. A storm started to brew at the kingdom. The weather drastically grew worse, the temperature plummeted as the storm continued to brew. The boy screamed at Annabel Lee for her to run, but it was obvious that she refused to do so. Left with little choice, the boy fled the beach. The wind blew at Annabel Lee, chilling her so thoroughly she ended up on the beach, motionless, her blonde hair fluttering in her closed eyes. Watching from the bush, the boy glimpsed her soul flying into the sky, waving goodbye. He jumped frantically, in the desperate hope that he could perhaps catch her soul or so he thought. After a brief period of time, it appeared that his hopes were futile. Rushing towards the beach, tears flooded down his eyes, flowing in a smooth trail that lined his steps.

It was a miserable day, not only for the boy but also for Annabel Lee’s family, lamenting her loss. One of her relatives, a high-born kinsman came down to the beach, sweeping her up with a deft swing of his arm, carrying her away up to the enormous kingdom by the sea. The boy wept, cursing the angels for the loss of his young love. It seemed as if their love continued to develop for he began a new task, a task that demanded his constant attention. He began scribbling on the dirt with a gentle twig like a madman. Even the sun, sweltering with heat, did not divert him from his path. The creatures of the sky and land desperately tried to stop him but to no avail. The enriched concentration he spent on Annabel Lee previously was devoted to this task. He worked himself to such extremes many would wonder what task this was. However, one day it seemed as if he had completed this perilous task, for he lay down, pleasure inscribed on his face. He expressed delight as he glanced at his completed project on the dirt.

Finally, one night, fifteen years later, the man (now much older) discovered the location of where the sepulchre containing Annabel Lee had been placed. He sprinted there, once again, with such concentration that it was impossible to stop. He blitzed past the guards, waltzing away with incredible speed. Within minutes he was at the entrance of the sepulchre. An obstacle was in his way: the lock on the entrance. Puzzled but energised, he stuck his twig inside the hole, twisting and turning. He picked at the lock swiftly and before long, a *click* sound emanated, signalling the success of the break-in. He jumped in, panting but relieved whilst locking the door as well as locking himself in. The desperate fellow gasped at the embalmed Annabel Lee. What was once a beautiful maiden turned into something drastically different in the space of fifteen years. However, some say that ‘true love cannot be broken by death’. This prophetic view turned out true for this case as the man opened the glass case of the gravestone and jumped in. He lay inside, shuddering at moments as if the eyes of Annabel Lee were burning into him. No vision of the outside world remained as he settled into his bed for a new life, a new life with Annabel Lee. Just not in this world.

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