Clouded Flowers
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A wound on the city. It just appeared one day. Everyone avoided it. No one knows what's in it.
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I don't know. It's very confusing I guess. I wrote this in the car after I listened to a song. I have an unhealthy obsession with the human mind and messing with it. If you read any of my other stories you'll probably realize I like to mentally destroy my characters.
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#230
claustrophobia
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I am dying - it was inevitable. The poison given to me over the course of several months have spread throughout my veins and seep through my bones. I was alone. There was not one single person to hold me, to comfort me, or to cry for me... I am all alone... NOTE from the writer: I'm an amateur writer so please overlook plot holes, grammar issues, or anything else a story is supposed to have. This is my original story so... as the saying goes "if you have nothing nice to say, don't say anything at all".
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