I wok up in a colde sweet. "wUt thE fuCC¡" I scremed. thier she wos. mrs. muther hyuckin potts. standing over my dad, keaping clos wach. I hope she dosnit here me. she senses my presance. I feal her raspy voice diggin into my consciousness, "bitch". oh lorde. oh fuck. she slowie cranks her nek torwords mii. her eies r colde and ded. I can alredy tel her sole left her bode. whïle kepping 1 hand on my fäthers beppost, she set down her sprite cronbery and began breakdancing sofly. while contimplating mii fäte, she began levitate torwards mii.
