the alarm clock shows 2:59 am. i see somebody on top of me.
a figure,
a woman,
long hair, black eyes that were shimmering in the darkness.
i swear i know her from somewhere.
Shahira?
but...
i thought she moved away..
after.. she was broken hearted..
because of me.' THIS IS WHAT U GET ! '
I pushed her off of me and ran out of the door from my bedroom.
' YOU'RE NOT GOING ANYWHERE ASSHOLE! '
I ran and ran and reached the kitchen.
i grabbed a kitchen knife. The biggest, sharpest one.
' STAY BACK!STAY BACK SHAHIRA! YOU WERE MY GOOD FRIEND WHAT THE FUCKING HELL? '
' FRIEND? HAHAHAHAHAHAH!!!! YOU STOLE HIM FROM ME! YOU STOLE ISKANDAR FROM ME! YOU'LL PAY 'She didnt listen and jumped towards me and i stabbed her shoulder.
she shrieked in pain as the blood from her now almost amputated left arm.
i could see her arm almost coming off as she screamed in agony and terror.
what have i done.
i dropped the knife and grabbed my head and pulled my hair.
' what have i done. '
i mumbled that again and again until i was screaming till my throat was sore and dry.
i shook her. hard.
' Shahira? you're playing with me right? right? RIGHT? RIGHT? WAKE UP! WAKE UP!!!i stepped back and turned away from the bleeding amputated person lying down on my white kitchen floor, staining it with red ink.
and thats when i lost my guard.
and she stabbed me right in the neck.
she looked around while holding me by the hair with her good arm. while i was choking to almost instant death.
and thats when she saw my compartment freezer.
i was praying to god that ill die before she'll throw me into the freezer
we were getting closer and im still alive. she threw me into the cold abyss . and closed the door.my life span was decreasing.
my skin. now getting dryer.
i could feel my blood stream freezing.
my blood from my neck, turning blue.
my face losing blood.
my eyes blurred out
and i fell into eternal blackness that is now called death.
my eyes shot open.
' god it was just a dream '
but my face turned white as i saw
the alarm clock turn 2:58am
and the door creaked open.
YOU ARE READING
Dying Flowers
Mystery / ThrillerA collection of short stories written by a psychotic 15 year old. Most of the stories will open up to a young girl or boy going through obsessive possessiveness towards another person. Sometimes the stories may differ but mostly its violent , psych...