Sometimes I believe in luck and bad luck, Other times I think it is all lies.
Other times I am just pessimistic. Or sometimes I just am not paying attention. Like this time...
I drove alongside the creek slowly, The speed limit is 100 but I know no one is behind me. I direct my attention towards the ducks and swans in the pond. Some days I will come and feed the swans, they enjoy that; I always aspire to be a swan, they are so beautiful and to me they signify happiness and love. That is always something I wish for.
For a moment I feel empty and hollow but that quickly changes when a screeching noise echos through my ears, I then realize that that sound was me. I was peacefully looking at the swans one second then the next I was looking towards the other side of the creek where a tiny little girl stood staring straight at me, she had porcelain white skin and long black hair, she wore a flowing white dress and looked like a ghost. I direct my attention away, I was probably seeing things. It was late anyways. But I am wrong. Very wrong. I hear a terrifying voice boom through the landscape and over the creek, seemingly directed at me. "Why dare look away from a child?" The voice booms with power, deathly and scary but yet sounds so childish and high pitched. I glance up hesitantly and look across the creek to where she used to stand. I notice she is no longer there so I glance around till I echo a petrified squeak; her face is pressed up against my car window. Her appearance changed and she now looks bedraggled - her hair ,messed up and her dress, ripped. Her skin was dirty put her fair skin, white and sickly is still visible. Her eyes are bloodshot and I try to look away but my gaze is peeled on her. I gasp a breath into my lips and slide back into my seat, fiddling with the locks on my car.
Her doll like appearance is creepy and I want out. I turn my key and start the engine. It roars to life.
I glance towards her, hoping it was the last time to ever see her demented face. It was the last time I ever saw her, for sure, because when I looked that last time, I saw her teeth, and her lips, curved in a crescent like the half-moon; into a smile. A deathly smile, one that sucked out my soul. And then I slump down, my soul leaving my empty body. I had seen her smile and it ripped my soul out. I was dead now.
(A/N old story sorry if it's reallllllyyyy bad)
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bedtime stories
Short Storysome pretty little stories written by yours truly, olivia logman. a collection of small stories that i had to write for school, some are weird, some are creative. this will d e f i n i t e l y not be unpublished - sorry for my habit of doing that...
