I brought my hands up and rubbed my tired eyes. Even shutting them for a second made me feel like I could prop my face up on my elbows and have the best sleep ever right there; right on top of the dining room table that was used for homework and not eating, on top of my half edited essay that was due tomorrow.
Why do I procrastinate? Why in the world do I do this to myself?
Well. No time to think of that now. I have to get back to work. I stayed up in the dining room because if I were to go into my room, the temptation to "just lay down on my bed for ooonneee second" would be much to great, and it would be time to rise and shine for a lovely school day before I'd know it.
I reached over to my laptop, thinking that if I typed my new essay as I edited, I might be done sooner (3 AM reasonings are always hilarious). Clack clack clack. I typed away on the keyboard, not really caring if the sentences were only half coherent. I. Just. Want. To. Be. Done.
I'm always so jealous of everyone that gets to go to bed before me. My little siblings that complain about my mom making them go to bed at 9...I wish she would force me to go to bed at that time. Oh well. As soon as I get done with this, the sooner I can go to sleep too.
It's so dark in the house. Every single light is off except for the room I'm sitting in. It's kind of eerie...someone could poke their head around and into the room, and I would have a heart attack because of the surprise factor advantage they'd have. I try not to think of this, I get scared so easily.
"Fatima..." I hear a voice say. My heart starts pounding. I heard it as clear as day, winding up the stairs like my mom was calling me from her room in the basement. "Fa...ti...maaa...." There it was again.
My heart starts pounding, not just in my chest, but in my stomach and my head, in my legs and arms and trembling hands. I am going into my room right this second. I quickly pack up my stuff and make my way down the stairs, shooting suspicious glances over my shoulder and walking along the walls with my back to them spy-style.
The basement is pitch black, and when I flip my bedroom light on, shadows scurry around outside my room, lurking...
So..that was my rushed attempt at scaring you guys. Did it work? Probably not. I don't blame you though. I just wanted to have an interesting way to say that...I love writing scary stories and episodes, and if you don't judge from what I just presented to you, I can say that I'm fairly good at it.
It's weird though; I get scared so easily. I got scared watching the trailer for The Orphan. I'm not even kidding. I think that since I know what scares me, I can write creepy stuff for other people to get scared of too. Maybe...
Hope everyone's having a good break!