I Rejected... He Killed

I Rejected... He Killed

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WpMetadataReadMatureOngoing19m
WpMetadataNoticeLast published Wed, Sep 16, 2015
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Fiction
Social Themes
Sitting in the dryer with my hand locked right over my mouth. Trying not to whimper or move, but to stay completely still. Thinking of another hiding spot. I climbed out of the dryer because its one of the only places he hasn't looked. Its funny how every time when you come out of your room late at night to use the restroom and tip toe, the floor creaks the most, but when you don't even bother its as silent as the sound of a dead person lying on the floor. no creaks or crickets, just BLOOD!
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