ForumsArt, Music, and WritingLTD's Writings

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305 posts

This is probably my second or third thread, but, can't seem to find any of those right now.
So, figured, I'd start afresh.
It's been quite a while since I've been on AG.
Anyhow -
Here's a short story.
Don't quite have a title for it, it was something we had to write in school.
Theme was just: A Letter

I strolled down the stairs and slumped into a leather armchair and flicked on the TV.
Proceeding through the channels, the colours blurred past.
If I had known at that moment the upcoming events; I wouldâve hid myself off the face of the earth.

As the postman rattled on the door, I groaned loudly and pulled myself off the chair.
Opening the door, I looked at him tiredly as he held out three white envelopes one that looked a bit, dampened and a brown package, he held out a delivery docket as I scanned through the words and signed my name across the dotted line.

I opened the layers of tape concealing the cardboard box, as I ripped off the last layer, I realized there was nothing in the box but a few scraps off paper, and tossed it to the side.
I picked up the dampened envelope that nearly tore in my hands, gently peeling off the top; I peered inside the shoddy old envelope that revealed a few pieces of parchment.
The ink was smudged, making the letter near impossible to read.
After looking closely and carefully at the letter, I had made out what it had said:

âI know what youâve done â" I will hunt you down and kill you.
Do not try to hide. I will find you.
Shall you report this â" You will be found faster.
This is not a threat. You will die.â

The letter made me stumble in my steps.
Who would want to kill me?
Was this a joke?
I didnât know what to believe from that point onward.

Instinctively, I headed for the stairs.
My heart was racing; I stuffed a few of my possessions into a bag and fled from my home.
I felt numb walking around the streets.
Was my whole life going to cave in?
Should I have just given up?
Whatâs the point of running if itâs death youâre hiding from?
I was second-guessing my whole existence.
Every person that walked passed me; I looked at them twice, analysing their face to see if they looked like a psychotic killer.
I thought I was getting paranoid.
I didnât know where I was going, I just continued to walk, dusty road by dusty road.

Darkness covered the every so enlightening brightness.
I collapsed onto the saturated, dewy grass.
I began to reflect on my life from the past few weeks, where had it all gone wrong?
What did I do to tip off the killer?
Nighttime sounds flooded my frozen ears.
As uncomfortable the ground was, I drifted away into a terrifying sleep.

It was the middle of the day, I was sitting on a jagged cliff, as I peered over the edge to see the water flowing gracefully, sparkling in the sunlight.
There was nobody else around, but I felt apprehensive.
I kept hearing a rustling noise a few feet away from me, but didnât see anything.
Paranoia mustâve been catching up upon me again.
I lay back on the rocky cliff and felt something dig into my back.
Blood spewed out of my body as I lay there unconsciously.

I woke up with beads of sweat rolling down my face.
Nightmares. That wasnât the last one I had either.
Theyâre my dreams.
Why couldnât I control what happened in them?

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305 posts

Apologies for the messed up quotation marks.
Copied it off the website it was up on.

Anyhow, I'll try work up on something soon.
And try not to let this thread die as abruptly as my others did.

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