All my friends are dead. They died on the same day, at the same time, in the same place. March 25, 12:48, New York. They where all in the middle of nowhere, they all looked out there window. They all saw a man. The man had the same black hat as he does now. With a red shirt and black suspenders. They all called 911. They all looked back out there window. They all saw that the man had disappeared. They all went to find each other. When they did, they all died.
I woke up when they died. I could feel that something was wrong. I went to my window, and there they stood. Holding hands in a circle. Eyeless, soul less. I looked to my door only to see writing. March 25. 12:48. New york.
I turned around to see a man. In a black hat, red shirt, black suspenders. I closed my eyes hoping it was a dream. When I opened my eyes again, the man was gone.
