It's creeping upon me, I am unable to speak. The creeping gets worse, as the chains, oh the chains! They weigh my down so. It feels as if I am unable to let it out, to free my demons. So I sit and ponder, will it ever get better? I'm not sure why I am writing this, I guess I'd better give the world a better explanation rather than, welp I'm dead too bad so sad. I'm running out of time, so I should hope someone'll read this or I might as well have just slit my throat. The guilt just keeps creeping closer I just... I fear I would suffer more if I didn't choose suicide. I'm looking at you, Trent. God what a waste of my youth. My end is creeping near so I am 'unfortunately' unable to finish this. Maybe you can find more information from— actually nobody deserves to learn what we did.
Times up in 5... 4... 3... No NONO I
DO
NT WANT
TO DI
Too bad
YOU ARE READING
Creeping
Short StoryA girl by the name of Gabbie looks like a normal high school girl, but is she really? Yep, already answered your question. This is just what happens to lot's of people so I consider it normal at least.
