I hear things, "tic toc", the clock ticks, time leaving me. Things I'm not supposed to. People say I'm crazy but my mom says I'm just special. I scoff at her, yeah like hearing the dead constantly whispering in your ear is fun. They wisp by leaving the air cold, no longer having the warmth of the living. Their blood runs cold, eyes sunken in like rotting fruit left out to dry. I tell them to leave me alone, they just get louder. "Whispering". Can you just shut up I scream. One day a spirit told me something I could never forget, something I'd never tell anyone. I swore I'd take the secret, more like a burden laid upon me to my grave. And that's what I did. I couldn't live with the guilt I carried on my shoulders, like hiking a mountain with 1000 pound boulders. After I was gone, I became one of the dead. A spirit, now only whispering to comfort the cries of my mourning mother.
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My One Horror
TerrorThis will be a collection of all of my short horror stories that I like to write ✨Currently in the process of editing stories
