Night in the City of Paper

A story about you

This is a story about you. Do not deny it. I can see you laughing, thinking, this will be a funny story. You know I can not be talking about you. There are other readers, so this story being about me? That is impossible. As you read this story you will continue to think that the intro and the subsequent story has nothing to do will you. But it does. You may not see it yet but it does.

This thought will leave your brain in a few hours, but then a trigger will bring it back. This may happen for the next few days, but within weeks you will forget, then go on wattpad and remember. This may happen for the next few days, but within months you will forget.

I now you plan to remember it for a long time, just to spite me, but that will not work. I am not saying it is written in fate, spewed in the stares for the gifted (not you) and the unique (also not you) to find. I am stating this based on the basics of human nature. Spite, Jealousy, Greed. Oh, and Lying. Right now you are lying and saying "Not me."

Also, Happy birthday. I figured, better now than never, a common human phrase. Hey! Focus. Do not think. Just read. Yes, I know your birthday. Yes, I am a stalker, moving on. The story of you.

You are dying, but that is not news to you. You have been dying since your first breath, even before that. None the less you are dying. And you are older. Older than you have ever been, and as young as you will ever be again.

Someone that you care for has recently died. You just finished mourning. I will not say sorry for your loss because I am not sorry. You will get over it in a while. But now your are sad. Stop thinking about me, and about how I know you. Focus now. Follow along and you will get it.

The next part will be read different for everyone. I must warn you that if the following paragraphs show any gibberish, non- existing languages, or certain words burning brightly like the mid day sun, temporarily blinding your eyes, but fading as you blink away the spots and tears, please contact your parapsychologist.

No ones Instructions are the same. These are for your special case. After given further instructions, and following them, fake your death, have a funeral, get a new passport in a different name, become a new person, and go running around the country. After three years you can come back, frustrating your friends and family. Then get on with your life as normal.

OK. I have to hurry. There is some commotion going on outside the office. So. Your life. Lets get on with it. When it comes to you, lets see, you read this at a time between 13 and 17. Well, those are two bad numbers. Not a good Omen, but to be fair, what happens next is not good.

I just heard what sounds like a gun shot, not in your life, in mine. I better hurry if you want to know what happens next. It starts normal, but that doesn't fit the mood of your heart, mind, and home. Even the birds sound sad. The colors are less vibrant. You get up any ways. You get dressed and you go out to do something. I cant seem to remember what.

Great, I remember the mood of the birds but not what you were doing. Hold Up. Someone is trying to get in my room. I am going to barricade the door.

Okay. I am broadcasting the ending over all channels now. I am sorry for the confusion but something is trying to get in the office I am in. I won't have time to write all the stories. Just one. This one. I said you were not unique, but you are, because this story is about you. Everyone else who is listening to this, who's story this isn't. Protect. This. Person. Something really bad is about to happen, and it is coming.

Okay. You are driving, and you were not paying attention, but you do not die on the road. Something big happens though. Very soon. THE BARRICADE IS FAILING. It is slowly falling apart. Whatever is trying to get in is succeeding.

You did not notice the odd looking truck heading to you. It stops, just before hitting you. In a furious rage you step out of your car. You tell the driver off for being on the wrong side of the road. Then something unexpected happens.

The door just broke. I think I am about to be killed. Send help. I repeat, send

The story teller is dead. I will not let his dub predictions ruin my plan. His writings show that this goes out to my target. I am coming for you kid. Get ready, because last time, you weren't. Killing you was so easy, but don't worry, I made sure to take as long as possible Sadly, you were to weak to last very long. Only a week and a half. I would have bet shorter, seeing as you lost a lot of blood.

Do not worry. I have learned better. I should give you longer breaks to allow you to indulge in your pain and stop bleeding profusely before continuing. It was fun though. Can not wait to see you again.

-Me