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Words can help us grow, Like horse piss help trees. (Wonderfully btw)

Thursday, December 08, 2005

Little Boy~

Little boy...

Little boy...

Are you still in the closet?

I am here

I've decided to take you out of the closet!

Too late i'm afraid

Too late?

You left me in the closet

They found me

Is that where i left off?
I'll continue from there,

"...they opened the closet doors and found a little boy clutching a katana sharp enough to like i said, too late.

I am dead.

Right

...and you deserve to know how.

I can't wait.

They were quick to find me. I was trapped in a closet, where you, had left me to die

I did not leave you to die

You never did return to continue either. They started out beating me to pulp. Until i couldn't feel my broken fingers, toes, face even. Like i said, they beat me, to pulp.

I admit that is a bad way to die...

Did i say i died? Do not interrupt.


Go on then.

Then they brought me back to life. Sort of. They made me feel every inch of my body again, when the started to skin me alive.

...

They skinned me alive, rather slowly. I couldn't be too sure, time sure slows down when you're in excruciating pain

How...

I shall entertain your questions later, but that is not when i died.

I died a little later, strangled by my own intestines.


Why are you telling me all this?

Because you started it. You made those people invade this house. You made them destroy everyone and everything and you left me, in the closet.

You're not real...

You made me. I am more real in this world than you are in yours.

But, this whole thing

...is just a story? I hope, that you die, a horrible death, and only then you will meet the one who writes your story. What you say is "real" to you, is just afew letters on his computer screen.

You dream, and dream, as you weave, and weave, your stories and ideas into something else. It's true, only in death do you understand all things.


I don't understand

Was the closet more real than i am?

You were both, created

The closet is no more real than I am and neither are those intruders. My mother that you killed...

Where are you now?

Once i was dead, they turned me inside out and impaled me on the gate. But where am I now? Everywhere, anywhere i want to be, and for those in your world who has read up to this point, i shall pay them a visit that same night.

5 comments:

Ana D. said...

whoa dude, if you ever need someone to talk to about your issues...

Miss Aida said...

Bizarre.

MidlifeCrisisDolmat said...

I find this wickedly interesting.

Still can't believe you left the little boy in that closet all this while though.

Uh...this IS a continuation of one of your stories from a while back, is it?

Anonymous said...

hmm..a lil confusing at first..coz maybe its sum sort of continuation i dono..bt its interseting..hehhe..gory..

Anonymous said...

Hey my favourite writer... Long time no chat...

Poor boy. Died and came back to life.