She's coming back again. She's HERE again. She's ruling over me again. She promised me to stay HERE for only ONE night. And I don't think I can handle her.
SHE? HER? I'm guessing you have no clue at all. Well, it has to be LARGE and HUGE because I'm writing like TWO posts for the night. She HAPPENS to be the doppelganger I mentioned in my other blog post "Fictional Autobiography of a Teenage B". And it's not my fault she's back. QUICK! Lemme get this down before she attacks. OH WAIT. She has already possessed me. And whatever you will be reading for the rest of this evening (after this paragraph) is HER writing. HER post. HER wrath.
Enjoy.
I was wrong. Boy I was wrong.
My target way back was easy. She was weak and vulnerable and easy to pulverize with my perfect shiny, metallic angel-spawned, pistol-lookalike crossbow. I aimed it at her. She died.
But not quite...
I won, really. I did. I killed her. But then I didn't know she had a doppelganger too. And her doppelganger was like MY doppelganger. It was bad and it was good. It was in many ways wrong and in many ways right. So I let go of her.
Hell I still ain't gonna care.
My crossbow MUST explode soon for it has reached its caged, bounded limits. It's time to wreak havoc. It's time to cause chaos. It's time to make war.
TO HELL WITH YOU!
And no, I have not found a target. Or let's just say everyone's my target. Shoot me. Before I shoot you first.
Why don't you kill me now? So we both end our misery?
Shut up before I stitch your lips using the nails of a dead man as the needle and the hair of a dead corpse as the fabric. And then stitch it up some more with the eternal flame of life. SHUT UP before I get my crossbow and stick it onto your mouth and morbidly engrave it there forever like a name engraved on a tombstone. Or whatever the heck you call that. I don't care. And you're not supposed to, either. Just shut up. I don't need to hear your words. Matter of fact, I'd be glad - ecstatic even if you ask me to bazooka them back to where they came from: from Hell (remember?). Then I'd stuff you back there to where you belong. Where? Hell.
One day, one day I'll lure you into my traps.
-- END --
Catherine's note: I read this all over again and I realized HOW EVIL my doppelganger was (and is). And shoot, I can't believe she said all those stuff. Catherine "Cath"(I), would never say those stuff. In fact, I'm actually scared for my alter ego. Hope she's not scared for me.
SHE? HER? I'm guessing you have no clue at all. Well, it has to be LARGE and HUGE because I'm writing like TWO posts for the night. She HAPPENS to be the doppelganger I mentioned in my other blog post "Fictional Autobiography of a Teenage B". And it's not my fault she's back. QUICK! Lemme get this down before she attacks. OH WAIT. She has already possessed me. And whatever you will be reading for the rest of this evening (after this paragraph) is HER writing. HER post. HER wrath.
Enjoy.
I was wrong. Boy I was wrong.
My target way back was easy. She was weak and vulnerable and easy to pulverize with my perfect shiny, metallic angel-spawned, pistol-lookalike crossbow. I aimed it at her. She died.
But not quite...
I won, really. I did. I killed her. But then I didn't know she had a doppelganger too. And her doppelganger was like MY doppelganger. It was bad and it was good. It was in many ways wrong and in many ways right. So I let go of her.
Hell I still ain't gonna care.
My crossbow MUST explode soon for it has reached its caged, bounded limits. It's time to wreak havoc. It's time to cause chaos. It's time to make war.
TO HELL WITH YOU!
And no, I have not found a target. Or let's just say everyone's my target. Shoot me. Before I shoot you first.
Why don't you kill me now? So we both end our misery?
Shut up before I stitch your lips using the nails of a dead man as the needle and the hair of a dead corpse as the fabric. And then stitch it up some more with the eternal flame of life. SHUT UP before I get my crossbow and stick it onto your mouth and morbidly engrave it there forever like a name engraved on a tombstone. Or whatever the heck you call that. I don't care. And you're not supposed to, either. Just shut up. I don't need to hear your words. Matter of fact, I'd be glad - ecstatic even if you ask me to bazooka them back to where they came from: from Hell (remember?). Then I'd stuff you back there to where you belong. Where? Hell.
One day, one day I'll lure you into my traps.
-- END --
Catherine's note: I read this all over again and I realized HOW EVIL my doppelganger was (and is). And shoot, I can't believe she said all those stuff. Catherine "Cath"(I), would never say those stuff. In fact, I'm actually scared for my alter ego. Hope she's not scared for me.
No comments:
Post a Comment