It was very dusty and dark in here. A few sunrays were shining through some holes in the white wood and in the very back of the room there was a window half covered with a box that didn't belong to me.
Or my Mom.
Or Dennis.
Or to anyone in this house.
-Probably
YOU ARE READING
The Girl with the two grave stones
Short Story"I am well aware of the fact that nobody would ever understand my intention to do what I did. Well aware that anybody that knew my story would think I am insane. But that is kinda the reason why I did it" -J.R. Tuckerman
