I see the note it was clearly mine. The note had the same handwriting and it's definitely stained with blood which is presumably mine. There is just one problem though, it was dated three days before I started reading the note.
I remember what happened three days ago I went to school, I went home, and I went to bed. The next day was just the same and so was the next.
Nothing special never really happened to me until now. For the note doesn't even seem like it was me writing it, it seemed like someone stole my writing and just took it for themselves and twisted it as such to make me seem like I wanted to just die with the rest of the seemingly corrupted world.
You know what's the funniest part? I've always been the most happy-go-lucky person in the world, even seeing the good in random strangers.
Now here I am in my room seeing my body lay limply on the ground with a bullet wound through their head. It's almost like I'm in a different dimension, a different time, a different person,...a different reality.
YOU ARE READING
Prompts
RandomJust a bunch of random prompts and scenarios I write on my own or I find on the interwebs. Any art shown is not mine.