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Horror Story

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Horror Story
Lea Wilson
English II (1)

I’m Not Crazy, I Promise
When we made eye contact, my blood ran cold and my heart was thumping fast, as if it could burst right through my rib cage at any second. Fear overcame me and my instincts kicked in, flight. I ran as fast as my long legs could take me, being thankful that I was a good runner. I never lost sight of the man until I reached my front porch. Fumbling to get the door unlocked with shaky hands and uneven fast breaths, I rushed inside, throwing my stuff off to the side while quickly locking the door. This was the worst day to be home alone, seeing as though my parents were at work, my little sister was at a friend’s house and they wouldn’t be home ‘til dinner. After making sure the windows were locked and all of the entry ways were secure, I plop down on the couch and squeeze my eyes shut, trying to forget the man’s terrifying appearance. The tall older man with a crooked smile and twisted posture, smiling at me with dead eyes and gray skin, tried to come after me while I was wandering in the forest by my house. I, admiring the beauty around me, took in as much as my senses could handle, before the construction workers would cut it down to extend our neighborhood further. I noticed him, staggering after me, speech slurred and unintelligible, tripping over dodgeable twigs and rocks. I open my eyes and run my fingers through my semi­long­ish hair not being able to get his gruesome image out of my thoughts.
Convincing myself it was all just in my head was no use. Even splashing ice cold water on my face and watching T.V. didn’t help either. With my anxiety still high from the bursts of adrenaline I experienced, I couldn’t stomach down any food whatsoever. Tears were threatening to spill from my eyes due to my frustration and ongoing fear and paranoia. I called my mom, explaining to her what happened, while clutching the phone tightly in my nimble handsies.

Lea Wilson
English II (1)

“Okay,” she

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