By Bills0702
How dare they say I’m ill when I know what I saw? The monsters are here day and night. Even our mansion isn’t safe.
The old man in Room B, with his long beard and prayer beads, said, “No one can help you. Get comfortable with them.”
They mock me, offer deals I refuse, yet linger—clawing at my thoughts, laughing in the dark.
Tonight, I’m done. I close my eyes, breathe shallow, feel their cold hands at my throat, the rope ever so tight. I step forward into silence, where their whispers fade and something far worse finally greets me.
Very spooky. Nicely done!