CaptainSmak
New member
- Apr 17, 2010
- 2
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I wrote the first paragraph and i don't know how the story should go hahha:
And so there I was, standing in a pool of my own blood. The air was steamy, however I felt cold, as if my veins were running with liquid ice. Strangely, I thought, my toes felt warm, they were radiating. My fingertips as well, I thought. I looked back at the heap on the other side of the room and wondered if his toes were warm too. Then slowly I slid down the wall on my backside until I was sitting against it. I took my left hand off the side of my body, it moved slowly and shook, trembling with as If it was scared- I was scared, or maybe I wasn’t. I didn’t want to die, but then again neither did the heap, that’s why he shot me, he didn’t want to die. But I shot him too. And now he’s dead. The room was getting darker, and the constant fire in my side was gone to numb. I felt sleepy, and I felt comfortable. The room began to move, shadows stretched on in front of me and walls grew twice their height. I was being pulled into the floor and the wall I was leaning against. I began to ponder the difference between consciousness and unconsciousness, but then I was lost, I was unable to think. I was confused and only one single thing lingered in my mind: Who the hell is that heap in the corner?
oh and please nobody steal this and use it in a story, I WROTE IT!
And so there I was, standing in a pool of my own blood. The air was steamy, however I felt cold, as if my veins were running with liquid ice. Strangely, I thought, my toes felt warm, they were radiating. My fingertips as well, I thought. I looked back at the heap on the other side of the room and wondered if his toes were warm too. Then slowly I slid down the wall on my backside until I was sitting against it. I took my left hand off the side of my body, it moved slowly and shook, trembling with as If it was scared- I was scared, or maybe I wasn’t. I didn’t want to die, but then again neither did the heap, that’s why he shot me, he didn’t want to die. But I shot him too. And now he’s dead. The room was getting darker, and the constant fire in my side was gone to numb. I felt sleepy, and I felt comfortable. The room began to move, shadows stretched on in front of me and walls grew twice their height. I was being pulled into the floor and the wall I was leaning against. I began to ponder the difference between consciousness and unconsciousness, but then I was lost, I was unable to think. I was confused and only one single thing lingered in my mind: Who the hell is that heap in the corner?
oh and please nobody steal this and use it in a story, I WROTE IT!