Murders by IT_The Room In Which Bad Things Happened 2_War Tent House_The Party Assassination!
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Murders by IT
His baby blue eyes flashed with horror before the knife plunged into his chest. His eyes rolled to the back of his head, and he was gone. Pools of blood swam around his body. I felt shocked. My breathing quickened. Tears trickled down my face. My face, hands, my entire body drained of colour. I was frantic. The entire world was spinning around me. I had just seen a murder, and I just had to get away.So I ran. I ran to my car, got inside, turned it on, and just drove home. IT made me run.As I parked my car in the driveway, my hands were shaking, and I felt sick.I went and had a long shower, scr...
The Room In Which Bad Things Happened 2
I suppose you could say that I was never quite graceful in the darkness. I trip over the books piled in the room before Luna grabs me by the arm and yanks me forward. "Shhh River!" She whispers "You'll wake everyone." I look back through the hatch there's no one much left. Even Lilyan's gone. "Don't you think it's too late for this?" I ask. "No, and besides, this is important." Luna says and begins shuffling around in a box before pulling out a match and a bowl. "Do you have candles?" I ask. "Of course I have candles!" She snaps iwww.onedoor.ccn a hushed voice "What idiot would I be if I didn't!" She pull...
War Tent House
2010 January 04Kashmir that sleeps as dew drops in the midst of the garden of apple. Cloudy doves all over the sky resembling the circular moon that plays by chasing the butterflies! The wind of spring all over the body like the chillness of the river that tumble and falls into the ocean. The flowers that keep their face so sad in the foothills of the mountain! The dream of freedom in the boundary line like the breathing of the May-flies! Spying love in the chest cage like the dumb man’s language! I stand guarding my father like penance for the past one hundred and twenty full-moons time i.e. ...
The Party Assassination!
The fog grew denser, covering the moon beneath it, swirling thickly around us. We had been waiting for more than an hour for John and Simon. Emma was condensing her breath against the cold window of the car and drawing random patterns, while I was humming along to the folk opera playing from the radio. Of course, we had to kill the time. Without losing any more patience, I dialed John's number once again, the fourth time. Again a terrible ringtone began ringing, making me cringe. ‘How many times have I told him to change his goddamn ringtone!’, I complained to Emma. She burst into laughter. ‘I...