Creative writing

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Creative Writing

Gaze at my eyes. What do you see? The sunny amounts of happiness will first warm your heart. But then, you’ll be able to tell my deepest, darkest secrets or my most daring confession, or a shockingly gruesome personal transgression and that’s when you will be lured into my trap and be killed in a grisly fashion.  When someone asks me, “how was your day?”, I smile broadly which is fake smile and I’ll state the lie, “fine”, fibbing through my teeth. Then comes an attack from behind pulling out a prickly knife that was destined to tear through their body.

Is this a never-ending torture I am fated to endure, a vicious punishment for my supposed dishonesty in my past life; a passionate mind in a lifeless container? “This is not justice,” I scream in my head. “I never planned to kill anyone.” All I want is freedom and to be left alone. No more than any person ever wants, or deserves. I didn’t mean to kill but these hands cannot be controlled; I’m a puppet for those who are looking down at me. I’m a beast who doesn’t want to harm anyone not even a fly but this incessant tortured has ruined my life. I look back and apologise but it’s too late now as I’ve already committed a sin. I look at my hands and feel dismayed, tear drops plunge into the ground and once again I apologise.

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The light catches my attention. Emptiness in all directions yet the street glowing with dramatic colours; warming the foggy glass that I stand in front of, in the cold foggy street that is long and narrow, full of shops with vibrant colours to suit the Christmas spirit. I stand accompanied by the thick fog. I look around for escape roots; and there I see my ticket back home. I draw one final, calming breath, and then begin galloping as once again I am hunted by the police.

The key twists and turns and finally the door is opened. I sigh ...

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