A half-full bladder and the sounds of buzzing had awoken me.
The sun was creeping through the slits in the curtains and the previous night’s sleeping tablets had started to wear off. The kickback to reality and the small, itchy spots all over my body meant one thing: I was going to war.
Today, I started on my first course of medication. The bosses say it’s supposed to help me, make me better. It’s supposed to change some the things that I am, for the better. It’s supposed to make me happier and I hope it does. Once I’m used to it, I should take some time off.
Soft droplets hit the glass without making a sound.
The rain started earlier that day and continued on into the late afternoon. No one else in the house had noticed it, except for the young boy, Nathan. He sat in the living room, on a couch far too big for his size and stared out of the bay window in front of him. Continue reading
Child of the Dead is an interesting piece. It not only showcased my first real attempt at writing (sometime during the tenth grade, I think?) but revealed my love of horror creation. Well, it at least showed me my love of horror writing. Continue reading