Admittedly I brought on my own downfall. I made the choices that brought me here today that led me to typing out my story on this crappy old typewriter for you to read. Whoever you are. You know the worst part about all this is that I can still hear the screams. I doesn't matter what I did or how hard I tried, the screams would never subside. And she never went away either. She's still standing on the other side of the room, staring at me and smiling that sickly smile. She follows me around, I see her no matter where I go. Although it's not like I actually go outside anymore. I don't think I've been out in a week but I'm not really sure. I lost track of time and sanity long ago.
Before I actually do anything I should probably tell you a bit about myself. My name is Brian Oxley, I am 36 years old. I'm five feet nine inches tall and I weigh two hundred and ninety pounds. I am unemployed and I write as a hobby. I'm compulsively lazy and at this point I probably smell like somebody's breath after they ate a fish, shit it out and ate it again. I'm also about to hang myself.
The first chapter out of four will be up soon. Interpret this story however you would like, but there is only one that I'm really aiming for.
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Registration date : 2008-07-04
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