Sequel to The Room!
Sometimes what seems to be the truth, is a complete illusion.
Genres:
Mystery/Thriller (sometimes).
Teen fiction (ehh. . . Not anymore)
romance (because I'm on a romance high.
[update: I'm not on it anymore])
The room's temperature seems to drop by a few degrees as my hand freezes. I can feel the deathly cold glare of someone. I just don't know who. My heart races in anticipation at the stunning silence.
Someone is here.
Someone is watching me. I stare into the darkness. No. Why did this happen?
I can hear a faint hissing in the background. Maybe the fire. . . But the fire is extinguished. I can feel an icy draft hang from the ceiling.
I hear a faint tapping sound, and I can't hear anything else. All I can think about is that one sound.
I stare into the dark corners of the room. Is there any way I can make it out? Well there's the door, the- nope. No window. The door. I walk quickly to it, I want to get out of this house as quickly as I can. Because this is just creeping me the heck out!
My brisk pace is pretty quick, so I should make it out pretty quick. Yet, somehow I don't. The wide wooden door slams in my face as I am about to escape. And I am left there with nothing but that note. And a couple of dead roses.
I can't see anything but a few shadows in the darkness. A few human shadows. . .
And I can see something move.
Abort fission! Fission mailed!
I can't breathe. I won't breathe. I don't want to move. I'm too afraid to. This is something out of a horror movie. At least the guy part didn't include serial killers!
I want to run. I want to move. I want to escape. But there isn't a need to run. If I run then I will die. I can't move. If I move I will run. And I will die. I can escape. It's the sad truth that I have to face. I'm going to die.
My heart races as I can see a shadow moving closer. This is not how I planned my life. Dying in this thing. My life is so screwed. I hate it.
So right now, I am practically dead.
Something moves closer until I can feel flesh brush against my cheek. Just a slight little touch. But that's all it takes to make me scared. A whimper escapes my lips. There's nothing to lose now. . .
I stay still as I am yanked back. . . And thrust into the wall. . . But I can not feel a thing. . . All I can feel is the burden of life lifting from my shoulders. . .
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Then her life faded away before her eyes. . . And then she was dead. . .
