I open my eyes but this isn't where I was barely minutes ago. Closing my eyelids and re-opening them, nothing's changed.
"Where am I?" I ask speaking to no one in particular yet hoping for a response. Seconds after realization dawned on me that my question probably won't be answered, I raise my legs off the 7 inches high bed. The bedspread clearly torn and worn out resembling a rejected property of a vagabond.
At the corner of the room, looking like hurricane Victoria occured were piles of books laying recklessly and undisturbed. A really old coffee table with a monochrome television- of which I'm pretty sure wasn't functioning to say the least- was laying on top of it. Gazing at this ramshackle, a chill races down my spine.
The sun cast it's cold glare on the house or wherever the heck I was. The walls showed decay by neglect. Blotches of original paint insinuated the house former richness. Cobwebs graced the corners of the aging walls with spiders hunting it's prey. The house was engulfed in dead silence. Dirty black and brown mould covered the roof in clusters signifying water leakage.
The windows covered with grime and dirt, and the sun threatening to penetrate through with vaguely traced fingerprints on it like someone was trying to either write or draw something although I couldn't place what. It was like I was sucked into some vortex of supernatural jail or something.
After thorough assessment of the room, I came to the conclusion that I'm seeing less than I should. The room wasn't giving all that there was. There's a secret lurking, calling on me to uncover whatever the heck it was. But still a question came to mind, eating at me, bothering my mind-
The question...
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Quick Sand
Novela Juvenil"I don't care!" I said, a sob escaping my lips "I-I don't c-c-care!" "There's not-t-thing wrong w-with m-m-me!!!" I repeated, vehemently stuttering as my sobs increased with every word uttered. A lump began forming in my throat standing as my sob b...
