Writing Practice

(5-14-19) <> Death

It hit me. Quite literally actually. The letter floated down to my lap while I scrunched my nose up in slight irritation. Who sends letters like that anymore! I thought angerly.

I looked down at my lap and narrowed my eyes slightly. I picked the letter up by its edge and opened it up. I furrowed my eyebrows as I just saw writing on the letter. It read:

Hello, Ashley. You do not need to know who we are. We are simply here to deliver and rely on a message. If you do choose to respond please leave a letter outside your bedroom window and we will collect it. Now, onto the message.

Those that die,
Is not your family but your friends,
Choose wisely.

And then that's it. I gave a deadpan expression at the letter before re-reading it. I snickered before laughing. Who thought I was actually stupid enough to believe this message.

I rolled my eyes and quickly got to work on that note.

...

I yawned, sitting by my bedroom window. I bit my lip as I set the note outside my window and locked it, just in case. I sighed and crawled into bed, feeling guilty for putting his name.

I like up the next morning to my phone ringing. I picked it up with a groggy hello.

"Ashley...what have you done..?" the person on the phone said.

"Mrs.Evans? What's wrong what do you—" I started but was cut off?

"You got my son killed! What did he do to you! What have we ever done to you!" she shouted as she sobbed helplessly?

I quickly sat up, in shock. My eyes were wide and tears poured out as I blinked. I could only respond with,

"What..?"

Then she hung up. My phone slipped out of my hand and hit my bed with a soft thump. I looked toward my window and I gasped, my eyes wide in fear. They eye stood.

Lucas Evans.

His brown hair and pale skin were quite easy to see in the sunlight. But his once baby blue eyes were not red. His short and pants were soaked to the bring with blood—his blood.

He smiled at me before saying two words.

"Hello, Ashley."

Then I never woke up again.

~~~

So uh, let's just get this straight. Or well, like floppy middle straight. Anyhow—

1.I'm writing this book to try and get better at describing emotions.

2.I'm writing this book to get better at describing scenes and character appearance.

3.I'm just overall terrible at writing.

4.I'm sorry for wasting your time.