I walk along the streets of the city with the rain pouring down the drains.
I pay no mind to the people that are around me.
They are the same, they all wear a mask.
Each one having a different emotion, each one having a different story, but everyone having the same use... to hide.
To hide from the pain, their past, the truth, the lies, to hide from everything.
I don't know these people, I don't need to.
All I need to know is myself.
...
...
...
What was myself?
...
Was it peaceful?
Or dreadful?
Did I care?
Was I happy?
Or sad?
Did I have any emotion?
...
That I wish to know.
...
What did I have to hide?
That I wish to remember.
...
But all of that is within my mask, not myself.
I don't know.. If I want to take off my mask.
Because no one's ever done it.
Everyone just likes to keep secrets.. as secrets.
They express themselves fakely.
That is what I dislike.
There is no trust anymore.
Not with anyone who wears a mask.
But as stated, everyone wears a mask.
...
They are the same, they all wear a mask.
Each one having a different emotion, each one having a different story, but everyone having the same use... to hide.
...
But what do I hide?
What do I hide?
What do I hide?
What do I hide?
What do I hide?
What do I hide?
What do I hide?
What do I hide?
What do I hide?
What do I hide?
What do I hide?
What do I hide?
What do I hide?
What do I hide?
What do I hide?
What do I hide?
What do I hide?
What do I hide?
What do I hide?
...
...
...
Myself.
YOU ARE READING
Custom CreepyPastas
HorrorAs you pass through several corridors and rooms, you found the library. However it seemed that it only held one book. As you opened it, several pages upon pages of stories were to your attention. Even if each one was vastly different, all of them fe...
