Under the table
- Reads 621
- Votes 2
- Parts 1
Complete Sat, Jun 11, 2016<5 mins
I could feel something touching my leg. I held my breath in hoping it would go away, leave me alone. Still it kept touching me. It became harder to concentrate on breathing out and in because my body wanted to be terrified. The whimpering intensified and I felt a tear trickle down my face. I was going to die, right here at the kitchen table, like all those people in the movies.
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