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Hah |
July 24th, 2006 @ 12:00am |
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You amuse me annonymous commenter.
What amuses me is how seriously you take all this. Its a fucking story. Its not true.
And what amuses me most is how you think i give a fuck about what you say.
'Loser.Why dont u just put the knife in your vein and fuckin rip it up,insted of putting tiny cat scratches on your arm to bring attention to urself.'
Its a fucking story. I dont actually self harm.
'You dont undastand jak shit bout wat any1 feels. ur a self scentred piece of shit'
I understand as much as i need or want to understand, and its nice to kow you can make assumptions about what i'm like from a story.
'What kind of a sick fucked up story is this.your writing is shit.do spell check more often.and sort your word order out'
Yes its a bit sick and fucked up, if you dont like it, dont fucking read it. You can hardly talk about correct spelling. And again. I dont give a fuck what you think about it.
'ur so fukin pesimistic.shes not dead,she probs wont die of "attempted suicide".go see a shrink if u think ur depressed.and if u havnt got reason to...'
I know she's not dead, she's my best friend, i think i'd notice something like that. I dont think i'm depressed and have never claimed to be. pay attention.
'then rip ur fukin vein out'
Learn to spell fucking you lazy sod
So basically, whatever you were trying to acheive through those comments, you really havent. They made me laugh. Sorry love :) |
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Chapter 16 |
March 15th, 2006 @ 12:00am |
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The blackness closed in around me, just like in the movies. I felt my neck buckle and my head collapse, and then the bump as I fell back onto my bed. The blade was still in my hand. I knew I shouldn’t have stopped myself falling. But I was paralysed. And the blackness was so inviting.
Within moments there were people surrounding me, people in white coats, people with clipboards, people with authority. They stood around me, some sat on my bed, some stood over me, some sat on me, holding me down. Their eyes were sunken into their heads and glowed red. And there was something about them which let me know they were evil, a frighteningly satanic presence. And as they stood there, others arrived, gliding towards their prey - towards me. They stood around me in silence, just watching me; my body shook, my insides churned. And as I lay there I realised, they were not people.
I tried to scream, but found my mouth was gagged. As I opened my mouth I tasted the sickly flesh of the hand, which squeezed ever tighter around my mouth, the other around my neck. Soon there were millions of the creatures surrounding me. They looked dead, but I knew they would have no trouble hurting me.
My breathing was irregular, deep and desperate as I furiously begged my surroundings for oxygen. But each breath filled my mouth and lungs with stale, disgusting air, which I felt infecting my throat and made me gag.
My eyes filled with tears, but as they were released, the world turned red, and my eyes stung. Tears of blood flowed rapidly down my face, and as they touched the creature’s hand, he smiled, bearing rows of pointed black teeth, stained with the blood of thousands of other helpless victims.
As my eyes swelled up with another iron tear, momentarily blinding me, I was aware of something new, someone new. I blinked the tear away and saw my P.E teacher standing by the side of the bed. My heart fluttered with hope; maybe she would save me, maybe she would get rid of the haunting animals around me. But as I focused on her, I saw she was just like them, pale skin and red, sunken eyes, surrounded by the stench of death.
Suddenly she struck out and grabbed my left arm, and gripped it, and squeezed it, and dug her nails into my flesh. My body was overrun with pain, I tried to scream, if only as a natural reflex, but the hands squeezed tighter.
‘Here it is’ she hissed. Her voice was physically painful to my ears; it wasn’t loud, but full of hate and disgust. She spoke from the back of her throat and spat in my face.
The creatures moved forward, their eyes widened. And in unison they let out a screaming, terrifying cry. A cry of laughter. They threw their heads back, and I saw inside their mouths was pitch black. They laughed endlessly, a shrieking, relentless roar.
‘What the fuck have you done here then?’ one of them shouted out, pulling my arm, almost out of it’s socket, and examining the open wounds with a horrifying combination of disgust and perverted pleasure.
Immediately the laughter stopped, and I was left whimpering and crying. I saw the creatures head turn, and he brought his face millimetres from mine. The air I inhaled was his dirty, exhaled breath.
‘Don’t worry’ he whispered with mock concern, tilting his head and moving it like a snake, ‘We’ll look after you… just like we looked after your friend Kelli.’
As he said this he gestured behind him, the crowd turned to see two creatures walking by, parading Kelli’s broken, bloodied, beaten corpse. Her wrists and ankles were tied to a pole, which they carried either end of, like two proud hunters, returning with their kill.
Instantly the creatures lurched towards it. And the bloodcurdling laughter only just masked the sound of them tearing through her with their teeth and eating every last scrap of her pathetic body.
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