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I believe we will meet some sunny day, a place where we don't know where or why.
If it were to be somewhere absent of life, I simply wouldn't mind.
I'd do anything to see you, to see your dark eyes turn kind.
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WHERE THE HORNETS NEST
Your Story to Leave
Febuary 26th, 2020
...
12 : 05 am
...
// YOUR POV //
_________________
Memories eat at me from my past, making me shake at any disturbance of the night in this bedroom.
Where is mother?
Where is I?
Wiping away the stain of rum off of my lips, I find myself tired, sitting in bed with Brian asleep. It's not that I'm physically tired, it's the mentally tired emotion.
Somehow, I find myself sliding out of the warm bed. Quietly through the Unknown house, in the dead of night, and to the old back wooden porch all while in a dream like state. Like sleep walking, no control.
Like a puppet, to strings connected to long and slim fingers.
"Some sunny day, we'll meet again, don't know where, don't know how..." I let a slight toon escape my lips, maybe it's the voice the genderless creature wants to hear. Maybe it's bored, I understand.
I understand everything about it, it's simply bored, and I'm the toy, Maybe I should be proud for being picked of such high power.
Stop it.
Fuck.
I can't think.
Please.
I see it.
Oh no.
I don't want to die.
I never wanted this.
I am not like this.
die to going I'm.
?him see you Do
My neck tics to the right in a shiver, my eyes begin to buzz in the sockets.
The wet grass on the bottom of my feet is cold, giving me a weird ick. I squint my eyes, to see where I am headed. I clench and unclench my toes, to find grass melt down to mud below my weak body.
My shakey legs take me down a steep trail, through slight bush, and to the muck of the lake before me. It shines in the moon light, it looks so, beautiful.
YOU ARE READING
Where The Hornets Nest
Mystery / Thriller(SLENDER PROXIES X GenderNeutral READER) --------------------------------------------------------- The human mind is alike to a hornets nest, it buzzes when stressed or angered. It hums as thoughts are made, words are spoken. The hornets swarm insid...
