Story cover for A normal day by Paigeisalenton
A normal day
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    Capítulos 3
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  • WpView
    Leituras 23
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    Votos 0
  • WpPart
    Capítulos 3
  • WpHistory
    Tempo 6m
Em andamento, Primeira publicação em mar 07, 2014
Hey my name is jessie, I am 15 years old, I have 2 best friends but not that many friends, I get bullied almost every day but it makes me who I am; so im glad about that, But the torturing thing in my life is my father her abuses me... Thats the main thing that makes me so suicidal and desperate, I can't ever tell my best friend, But she knows somethings wrong, however she must never know it would destroy her and I would be killed if he knew I told her. My life is the same every day, im just counting down the days until im 16; because I can leave home and live with my best friends. the are the best but I feel like I cant take one more day of my life... it's just far too much for me to handle, I miss my mother so much
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Killing Is Thrilling

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'The night was alive with silence. I moved through it like a shadow, black leather gloves tight on my hands, boots soft against the grass. My gas mask hid my face, leaving only darkness where my eyes should be. The world narrowed to a single point: the house ahead. Tonight, it would belong to me. The farmhouse rose stark and white beneath the moonlight, silent except for the occasional grunt of a pig or the low hum of a cow. They were unaware. They were insignificant. I crouched behind the hedge, eyes scanning, senses alert. Every detail mattered: the flicker of light across the curtains, the faint rustle of movement inside, the way a shadow shifted across the floor. She was there. Oblivious. Popcorn in hand, murmuring to herself as the television flickered. Every motion was a note in tonight's symphony, and I was the conductor. I studied her, cataloging. Timing. Patterns. Fear. She didn't notice me yet, and that was perfect. Patience was everything. One sound, one misstep, and it could all unravel. I rang the doorbell once. Silence. Again. Still nothing. She flinched slightly, just enough to make my pulse quicken. Her small reaction was delicious. A sudden movement in the yard caught my eye-a neighbor's dog barking at some unseen intruder. Its voice was loud, startling, but contained. I froze. My breath slowed. Patience. Observation. The dog's curiosity would pass. I remained still, hidden in shadow, letting the moment stretch. The animal lost interest and padded away. Perfect. I moved to the back of the house, hammer in hand.' ...