The waterheart's Club
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posted by raven211
I slumped back against the wall, trying to ignore the feeling of half dried blood. He was breathing faintly. The realisation stung. I was going to die in this basement. The emptiness was clear, I was devoid of emotion. I didn't even have the sick feeling at seeing my dead cousin. It was like there was a strong light, silhouetting me, inaonyesha the hole in my chest clearly. I could imagine that. The light spilling around the edges of my form, making my exsistance colorless.

I don't know how long I sat there, just staring into space. The only thing that broke my trance was James. He sat up with a soft groan. I didn't move, thinking that my mind might be creating this image. He looked like.... Well, like death. The comparison sent shivers down my spine. He was pale, his hair was bloody. His face was smeared with blood.
posted by raven211
I watched James fall, terror making me cold. Was I really seeing this? au was it just a dream? I hoped desperately that it was just a bad dream. I pressed my back to the ukuta and prayed this wasn't real. Oh please let this be a bad dream...
please...
He hit the floor with a muffled thud, followed kwa a pole falling to the ground. It rattled metalically and I held my breath as someone picked the pole up, walking up the stairs. The door closed, and I was dropped into darkness. The door was locked, and I was still here.
Panic began to wash through me. Who knew what was in the darkness that seemed...
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posted by raven211
So much red.
Just two hours before the walls had been a gray-creamy color. The kitanda had been chokoleti brown and cream patterned... Everything was red. At first I wondered if my parents had painted the walls while I was out... But the smell....
And the figures on the bed.
Mother and father were dead. I knew it before I saw their faces, pale and smeared with blood. My first reaction was the dumbest. I screamed. It was a shrill peircing scream. I now know how stupid that was. But I was only young.

right now these memories are mixed with the red around me. It was smothering me. so much blood
I knew...
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My earliest memory is one of terror, that I try to supress. Although sometimes it comes back and lingers in my mind.

I was five years old, and terrified. I was running down the cold street, slipping on the ice. Snow blurred my vision as I ran. I can't remember what it was I was running from.
I kept on going, my bright purple wellington boots slipping on the ice. I couldn't slow down. There was something terrible behind me. I skidded to a slow halt, unable to turn. I ran into the schoolyard, I was scared. So scared. I could feel the breath on my neck. I turned to see darkness, blurred kwa fast...
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