Power of the Pen

The setting of your story is a closet

I waited there in the dark confined are for so long. The smell of leather boots began to sicken me. I almost felt like you would never come, but of course you would, you had to open your closet at some point. I didn't dare move. I stood, feet firmly planted, toes pointing at the door, not even picking up my feet for hours. I became restless, my mind swirled with thoughts of just ditching the pan and just going for it, but no, my plan is fool proof. Patience. I told myself over and over. Patience. Then, I heard you coming up the stairs, sensed you getting closer and closer. You were humming a tune, one that indicated you were happy, which is good because it is so much more fun the joy drain from one' s facial expressions.

You neared closer and closer tot he closet, my mind racing a million things, your hand touched the knob. Then, you turned it and pulled it open and there I was. Waiting. Waiting for so long I thought you'd never arrive. Your face became pale, you trembled with fear. Your golden hair was pulled back and your blue eyes widened. You would have been beautiful had you not been mortified. You screamed and darted down the hallway, leaving me there.

I was waiting for so long, now you run from me. I never wanted to hurt you. I had heard itr was your birthday today. Did I miss the surprise party? I only wanted to participate. Look, I even came with a present for you. Nice and wrapped in green just for you. Was the clown costume too much? I thought young people liked clowns, Oh, well, I guess I'll just leave your gift on your bed.ed

Happy birthday, don't end up dead.