Hello.............................
My name......................
Debra,
But you can call me....
DEATHRA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
*GASP*
I was only fourteen and I wanted an iPhone but Papa said, "No". So I did what any young adolescent would do and got a job at the haunted thrift store that appeared beside my house two weeks ago. Don't ask. On my first day I noticed that every time I set my pencil down it would disappear, but I mean, whatever. On my second day I noticed that every time I turned around, the six manakins with creepy wooden fingers that had joints, who were once dressed in old, used, ugly cloaks were now dressed in our fanciest pantsuit. On the third day of my thrift store career, while I was counting the five dollar bills in the register I felt six pairs of eyes staring into my soul. When I turned around, I saw six manakins with poorly drawn eyes, all coming toward me slowly. They cornered me into the bathroom behind the counter one of them locked the door before I could run for it. I then sat there all alone for ONE WHOLE HOUR, before I heard something,"click". Somehow, someone, something, had unlocked the door. I bolted out of the bathroom, out the store, and into my house. Finally I was 'safe'.
Two weeks later, the thrift store disappeared and my Papa got me that iPhone. But I've been shaking there, sitting on the edge of my bed, the iPhone still sitting on my desk, unopened......
