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Skrev den sånn plutselig her en dag. Litt syk historie, men det er slike historier jeg lever av å skrive! Skrevet mens jeg gikk i 9. klasse. Ikke på skolen, i fritida.
Locking myself inside this little cold castle, don’t want them to talk. Make them quiet, hush. Don’t like them, they are talking, I am out of their group. Don’t want to see it, I am turning the kea, don’t hate me. I am sorry. Shut up! Don’t want to hear you, don’t want to see. Inside something is rising, a blurred fog falls down over dead eyes. Death is staring at you, can’t you see the lifeless look in the eyes? They are tearing you apart, shredding you into little pieces. Don’t you want to scream, scared to the bone? Can’t you feel how I am stabbing you with an invisible knife, can’t you feel how the blood is running down your face? Don’t you see the satisfied look in my eyes when I see you suffer, lying there on the blending white carpet with your beautiful red blood surrounding you?
I am smiling, I like the blood that you are spitting out between your teeth. But you don’t see what I am doing to you, you just talk, not to me, but to anyone else. Why don’t you scream, aren’t you afraid? I can make you scared, just follow me, and I will show you how. Meet the eyes, stare into them, and come into my world. My world is fantastic, take one look and you will see a normal teenager with clear blue eyes and a shiny row with white teeth. Look deeper and you will see my mind, my secret. Look deeper and you will see the contemptuous flash in my callous eyes, my mouth so taunting. Then you will see that I hate you. Everybody.
You step out of the bus, not looking back. You don’t see that I am following. My firmly walk would have scared you beyond, it’s a bit sad you don’t see it, I like to see that you people get scared. It satisfies me. You are rounding a corner, its dark and cold outside, you are freezing. Pore thing. You’re inside a cold little backyard now, far away from home. Far away from people. But not far away from me!
Your eyes are so big, you are frowning in insanely horror. The sharp knife blade is caressing your soft skin, I am cutting you a bit. A thin ray of blood is revealing it selves on your wet neck. I am licking the delicious blood with my warm and soaking wet tongue, you shudder, not in pain, but in fear. I laugh, a cold but honest laughter, your dread is so funny. I am cutting you a bit deeper. This time it hurts, you try to scream, but you can’t. I’ve got you. I really love this, the terror in your eyes makes me feel younger and freer, and now it’s about time I’ll end this. The shiny knife blade is almost covered with blood. The blade disappears into your skin, and your eyes are rolling inside your head. A gasping sound of vanished life goes away with the frozen wind. And I am walking away from the crime scene smiling a cold and heartless smile.
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Obs! Meldinger som ikke omhandler oppgavens innhold slettes. Det samme gjelder meldinger uten stor grad av saklighet.
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