Hey guys!!! I'm VERRY SORRY I HAVEN'T BEEN WRITING. YOU CANNOT FATHOM THE DEPTH OF MY GUILT. No but seriously I kind of quit Wattpad for a while... But now I'm back! AND WITH 10ANDFREAKING8 READS. WOW. that will very much motavate me. But if you think I need to post another chapter RIGHT THIS INSTANT or that i haven't updated in a month because i was either mauled to death by bears or quit again, which i will never do, feel free to message me or comment. Seriously I do it for you hobos. Message or comment that i need to get my lazy ass up and write OR your ideas! I'm totally open to suggestions. Or message me just because. I have no life lol . Anyway I will start trying to update regularly and PLEASE tell me if it's sounding to cliche, you cannot understand a god damn word because it's horrible writing, or "bad apples". I won't skin you alive I promise. Now BACK TO THE STORY.
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I looked around to make sure no one was looking as I unfolded the paper. Not that I had friends to look anyway. I really only talked to three people, and am not sure if I would count them as friends or acquaintances. Who would write me a note? I mean me? really? I thought and got a big rush of anxiety. Damn GAD. I have a disorder called Generalized Anxiety Disorder, or GAD. Basically, I get anxiety all the time. Over usually small things or even nothing. I used to have horrid anxiety just going to school, and almost had a panic attack on more than one occasion. But then my kindly mother bought some pills and poof! All the problems magically dissipated. At least that's what she thought. I learned to stop coming to her with my issues, and trust me, I have many.
The slightly tattered paper made a slight crinkling noise as i opened it. Stop stalling you moron and open it! I thought.
When i opened the paper i saw a message scrawled in very neat hand writing. It was almost cursive, and it was somehow beautiful. I was slightly shocked. The note read,
Dear precious white bluebell,
My, what a beautiful flower you've grown into.
But be wary, for thy blood is poison,
The poison of solitude.
It flows throughout,
But well hidden
within a mask
of beautiful leaves and pure white flowers.
This chilled me. I now had goosebumps everywhere thanks to this poem and felt like someone was watching me. Again, really? NO ONE is watching you idiot! Who would want to watch a boring revolting sight like you anyway? I thought. But that still didn't make me feel any less paranoid. I decided that i needed to figure out who wrote the note, but I didn't want to do it around these loud halfwits. So I asked the teacher to go to the nurse and at her office proceeded to call my mother to pick me up.
"Yes?" My mother answered in her fake cheerful voice.
"Hey Mom it's me. I'm calling from the nurses office because I feel really sick. I might vomit," Puking card. Works every time.
"I'm at work do you really need me to get you?" She replied sounding slightly annoyed, her tone changing from that of her office voice.
"Yes." I said.
"Fine but this is the last time!" She and and hung up.
YOU ARE READING
My Tarnished Knight
Random(IN PROGRESS) Jeff the Killer story. Alice is a girl without many friends, but pretty interesting. One day she gets attacked by some crazed maniac claiming to be Jeff the Killer. Is it really him? What will Alice do? Read for yourself to find out.
