- "I didn't mean to kill her"
- The eyes on the painting followed her/him down the corridor
- "Three of us. Just the three of us left. Only one will see the morning"
Story Writing
"I didn't mean to kill her" he said with such joy. He giggled. It made my blood boil. Standing in front of was a murderer. Another man approached us. In his hand was a knife. You could see smears of blood on it. He look so mortified. I started drawing routes in my head of how to escape the situation.
"Three of us. Just three of us left. Only one will live to see the morning" I whispered underneath my breathe. With them standing in front of me I knew at that moment that I wouldn't be able to escape. I then scrolled my eyes back to the knife. I could see that the tip of the knife was blunt. I made a run.
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