Post by Grimscott on Oct 1, 2010 7:08:52 GMT -5
Halloween is around the corner, let's show our appreciation for the season with some SPOOKEH STOREHS (or lame attempts at them I dunno, I dun care)
Gotta be original though, only post your own work, please.
I've never written anything like this before really, so here goes. (Constructive criticism would be rad.)
Choke
I woke up choking.
Panting and sweating profusely, I sat up quickly to scan around my bedroom. My vision was still hazy, and the coughing just made it more difficult to see what was going on in the dark. Slowly but surely, my breathing managed to settle down. My eyes had adjusted to the dark a bit by now. The only hint of movement or sound was my ceiling fan, clicking along to its own rhythm as it rotated. My black trenchcoat, hanging on the open door of my closet, was rustling slightly from the breeze. My eyes briefly fluttered to my alarm clock, the bright red numbers informing me that it was now two hours past midnight.
With my cold sweat dried by this point, my head plopped back onto the pillow in a rather satisfied manner.
I woke up choking.
Coughing uncontrollably, I once again shot up from my covers. This time I hunched over, cradling myself and trying to figure out what the hell was wrong with me. My throat was in an unbelievable amount of pain. I gingerly reached up to feel my neck; it hurt on the outside as much as it did on the inside.
While I felt less tired than the last time I awoke, I was still groggy enough that I didn't have anything smart in mind. So I reached for the (half full) glass of water on my bedside table and took a swig. The soreness cooled down, but I still felt bad. I glanced at my alarm clock again, it had been only thirty minutes ago when I first woke up. Stupid. I want some sleep.
Bitterly, I snatched up some sleeping pills I kept nearby for just such a time, swallowing several as I finished my water. My heavy eyelids shut to the sight of my wide-open closet, the white door uncovered and still.
I woke up choking.
This time, I felt something around my throat. My huge eyes couldn't see anything in my room this time, just pure shadow. Heavy, smothering sable. I struggled wildly for a minute, pushing, kicking, squeezing, trying to find some way out. A particularly desperate swing from my leg sent me tumbling over the side of my bed, slamming myself onto the carpet.
There was no cover on me, the room was no longer black. Just normal dark. Except the closet.
I couldn't stop shaking. With unblinking eyes, I attempted to stare into the impenetrable black that was my closet while still keeping the rest of my room under heavy survey. But I was so tired. My eyes were watering from the strain. I began to rub my eyes to stop the tearing up, but this seemed to placate me as well. Those damned pills. Slowly, I started to relax, and it became more difficult to keep my eyes open.
As I drifted into sleep, I heard a familiar rustling.
I didn't wake up.
Because he fucking died you stupid whoreson.
Gotta be original though, only post your own work, please.
I've never written anything like this before really, so here goes. (Constructive criticism would be rad.)
Choke
I woke up choking.
Panting and sweating profusely, I sat up quickly to scan around my bedroom. My vision was still hazy, and the coughing just made it more difficult to see what was going on in the dark. Slowly but surely, my breathing managed to settle down. My eyes had adjusted to the dark a bit by now. The only hint of movement or sound was my ceiling fan, clicking along to its own rhythm as it rotated. My black trenchcoat, hanging on the open door of my closet, was rustling slightly from the breeze. My eyes briefly fluttered to my alarm clock, the bright red numbers informing me that it was now two hours past midnight.
With my cold sweat dried by this point, my head plopped back onto the pillow in a rather satisfied manner.
I woke up choking.
Coughing uncontrollably, I once again shot up from my covers. This time I hunched over, cradling myself and trying to figure out what the hell was wrong with me. My throat was in an unbelievable amount of pain. I gingerly reached up to feel my neck; it hurt on the outside as much as it did on the inside.
While I felt less tired than the last time I awoke, I was still groggy enough that I didn't have anything smart in mind. So I reached for the (half full) glass of water on my bedside table and took a swig. The soreness cooled down, but I still felt bad. I glanced at my alarm clock again, it had been only thirty minutes ago when I first woke up. Stupid. I want some sleep.
Bitterly, I snatched up some sleeping pills I kept nearby for just such a time, swallowing several as I finished my water. My heavy eyelids shut to the sight of my wide-open closet, the white door uncovered and still.
I woke up choking.
This time, I felt something around my throat. My huge eyes couldn't see anything in my room this time, just pure shadow. Heavy, smothering sable. I struggled wildly for a minute, pushing, kicking, squeezing, trying to find some way out. A particularly desperate swing from my leg sent me tumbling over the side of my bed, slamming myself onto the carpet.
There was no cover on me, the room was no longer black. Just normal dark. Except the closet.
I couldn't stop shaking. With unblinking eyes, I attempted to stare into the impenetrable black that was my closet while still keeping the rest of my room under heavy survey. But I was so tired. My eyes were watering from the strain. I began to rub my eyes to stop the tearing up, but this seemed to placate me as well. Those damned pills. Slowly, I started to relax, and it became more difficult to keep my eyes open.
As I drifted into sleep, I heard a familiar rustling.
I didn't wake up.
Because he fucking died you stupid whoreson.
BUT IF HE DIDN'T WAKE UP THEN WHO POSTED THIS OHHHHHHHHH NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
