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Why do I think of these things during work?


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Reference this, to know what I am talking about :)... although this is sort of an alternate scenario that takes place entirely with internal monologue.


The following is from a journal of one of the trapped. found on the porch


August 2nd: I first saw the house about two weeks ago, strange I hadn't noticed it before. It was rather old looking, but seemed untouched. One night, as I was coming home from work, I decided to stop and take a closer look. At first I had no intention of going to the door, but it is to late now. As I aproached, I kept seeing figures, strange shadows in the corner of my vision, but when I looked, there was no one there. I reached the door, and I could swear I heard a second set of foot steps, but still nothing. I should have turned back. When I opened the door, it was so dark, i could only see the walls of a hall, that seemed to have no end. I took a step inside, and the ground seemed to lurch, i was flung forward, but had hold of the door frame, I was able to pull myself back outside, as the door swung shut. As I left the house in a hurry, I felt a strange tugging at my back, as if something was pulling me. When I reached my car, the tugging stopped, but.. why can't I remember..


August 4th: I can't remember much before the incident. My mind is fuzzy, and strange people keep coming up to me as if i know them. I haven't ever seen these people anywhere. They seemed hurt when I told them this, so I just pretended to know them, but that only can last so long. When a small girl came up to me, and claimed I was her dad, I shook my head. If she was my daughter, then why can't I remember? She took me by the hand, and brought me to a house, I didn't remember the house, but it seemed strangely farmiliar. As I approached, the door opend and a woman stood there. She seemed concerned, but I don't know why. She asked me where I had been, and I didn't know how to respond. I stood there in silence for a while, and finally said, I didn't know her. I regret saying that as she burst into tears and ran back into the house. The little girl let go of my hand, and ran in after the woman. I stood there for a bit, and watched the scene. I felt disconnected.


August 5th: I was walking down an unknown street today, trying to figure out where I was, when I saw a little girl and a woman standing out in the grass of an empty lot. They seemed farmiliar, but I don't know where I would have seen them, the woman beckened to me, and I started walking towards them. I felt a sort of strange desperation to get to them. I quicked my pace, but strangly, i got no closer. As I ran faster and faster, they seemed to fade away. I now stand at the door of a house. It is beckening me inside, insisting in enter. I am going in now, it feels... right.


August: I found this book in my pocket, and started reading the words, I don't remember any of this? who's book is this? Why do I have it? I can only assume it is mine, as my name is written in it, but I don't remember writing any of this.


Strange... i can't recal the day, or even the month, each sentence I read, I forget the next moment. Why?


These halls go on forever.


Why am I writing? Where am I? Where am I? Where am I? Where am I?


I strugl try write words keep fanish. sentne hard cant rember m las wor



It was at this point that the mans writing was just a mess of scratches. Upon investigation of the house where this journal was found, nothing abnormal was discovered. My thoughts on this are as follows; this is simply the writings of a mad man, perhaps he had a mental illness. It is strange that he has never been seen again, but he could have just wondered off without this book. If you would like further information, you can contact me at... strange.. I can't..





Yes.. I did think of this while I was working at my local Mcdonalds xD


I may continue this writing, I may just end up posting it to this same thread, separating the diffent writings with a dashed line. Constructive criticism is appreciated :)


Any comments? I really want to improve as a writer, critics? (sorry about this bump, i am just discouraged by the lack of comments)

Edited by Rudehamster
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