Moonlight CryA Story by ThinMacJust something I randomly thought off.The night rises and the day sets. The door creaks and the birds scatter. In the middle of a forest in an old broken down oak wood cottage a butcher's knife slowly slides off the pink flesh it has dug into. Why me..? She asks herself. Why me!? With a clang and a thunk the damp red knife crashes on the moonlit floor. Starring into the moon through the tattered curtains and broken window, she drops. She screams and she pulls ferociously on her olive brown hair. A hand slowly creeps next to her. Trying, desperately trying to grab the silver hem of her gown. She looks at the head beside her. The head of a man she once knew. Blood pouring tap like out of from a wound on his neck. Dripping slowly towards her legs. She grabs the knife. Away from the cottage, and into the woods. It sounds like a lumber jack is hard at work...
© 2015 ThinMacAuthor's Note
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1 Review Added on February 25, 2015 Last Updated on February 25, 2015 |

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