Have you ever thought about what fiction is? Probably, such a question may seem surprising: and so everything is clear. Every person throughout his life has to repeatedly create the works he needs for specific purposes - statements, autobiographies, dictations - using not gypsum or clay, not musical notes, not paints, but just a word. At the same time, almost every person will be very surprised if he is told that he thereby created a work of fiction, which is very different from visual art, music and sculpture making. However, everyone understands that a student's essay or dictation is fundamentally different from novels, short stories, news that are created by professional writers. In the works of professionals there is the most important difference - excogitation. But, oddly enough, in a school literature course, you don’t realize the full power of fiction. So using our website in your free time discover fiction for yourself. He's Back by Stephine Dreams (reading an ebook .txt) 📖
- Author: Stephine Dreams
Book online «He's Back by Stephine Dreams (reading an ebook .txt) 📖». Author Stephine Dreams
The day he stole my sister, was the day every thing changed.
I was driving home from a long day at The Shoppe, the shop I work at. My sister was at The Shoppe as well, looking at all the items we sold. We didn’t speak as we drove home, though I don’t know why. We usually talked all the time, telling each other what we did and what happen and what we didn’t like. When we got home, Sarah slipped up-stairs and to her room. I dropped my purse on the coffee table, and it fell with a THUD! Then I heard a bunch of thing bumping and moving on the tiled floor. I looked down. Every thing had fallen out of my purse.
I picked up my lipstick, which was deep dark red, I only used it a things like a dance. My mirror, which had blush inside, and a piece of paper. I picked up carefully, as if I thought it might explode in flames. I slowly opened it, my heart racing, and it had only 2 terrifying, horrifying, words that wont let you sleep at night.
I’m Back.
I panicked. I didn’t know what to do. I ran up stair to my sister room. She was changing into her pajamas. I almost ran to hug her, to make sure it wasn’t a fake, but then I realized he would have tried to get me first. When my sister turned around, looking confused, she said “Eveleen, what, um, what are you doing here?” “Nothing Sarah, just, go ahead on what you were doing.” I stepped out of Sarah’s room and went down stairs to get a glass of water . Now you might be wonder why I flipped out about a little note, because for all I know, it could have been a little prank from a friend at work. But I knew deep down and inside that it wasn’t, it was a note from him. 12 years ago, I was buried in a hole, and I woke up 10 hours after he captured me, but when the FBI got there, there was no evidence that there even was a hole. When the FBI told me this, I flipped out. I told them I remember waking up in a dark place with soft dirt and a musty smell. They kept on telling me there was no hole, no DNA, nothing, but I simply revues to give out. Of course, I stop thinking about him and looking at every when I was walking down a street, to see if I remembered any thing bad about them I remembered.
But now, it was even worst than before.
Publication Date: 02-12-2012
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