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Stepping out of the shower, I dry myself, and then place my towel onto the rail. I put some boxers on, before going to clean my teeth. That's when I saw him. I don't know him at all, where did he come from?
Who is he?
What does he want?
I know nothing about him. His eyes are full of evil, his face is grubby; he has the look of a killer. He must have a dark past- it's visible in the way he stands.
His hair is greasy- he takes no pride in himself.
What has he done?
He looks suspicious. I bet he's murdered someone, no, I know he's murdered someone. Those eyes don't belong to an honest man.
Why is he holding a gun?
I glance down at the gun. It's loaded, and the safety catch is off. Is he going to use it? After all, he is a killer.
What is he intent on doing?
I'm scared now. All he does is look. Staring at my eyes, where my eyes look his follow. He repeats all my actions. I'm the puppet master, and he is the puppet.
His eyes grow more intense.
I start to shake. "WHY ARE YOU STARING AT ME?" I look around the room. I need something to defend myself. My razor lies by the sink. It'll have to do.
I slowly reach down for my razor, and when I look up, he's gone. Where did he go? I'm standing in the only doorway, and the windows are closed. I slowly rise, turning my head back to the bedroom. I slowly turn back.
He's there again.
I throw the razor at the man. The man I know little about.
"WHO ARE YOU?"
He only repeats what I say. At the same time.
I'm starting to lose it. That's when I notice the man is wearing nothing but boxers.
"JUST WHO ARE YOU DAMNIT?"
I look down at the floor again, then I realise the gun in my hand. Suddenly it all makes sense.
I point the gun at my head, as does the man in the mirror- high up on the wall. That's why I couldn't see it him when I bent down.
Maybe I should know myself better.
The gunshot echoed around the neighbourhood.
Who is he?
What does he want?
I know nothing about him. His eyes are full of evil, his face is grubby; he has the look of a killer. He must have a dark past- it's visible in the way he stands.
His hair is greasy- he takes no pride in himself.
What has he done?
He looks suspicious. I bet he's murdered someone, no, I know he's murdered someone. Those eyes don't belong to an honest man.
Why is he holding a gun?
I glance down at the gun. It's loaded, and the safety catch is off. Is he going to use it? After all, he is a killer.
What is he intent on doing?
I'm scared now. All he does is look. Staring at my eyes, where my eyes look his follow. He repeats all my actions. I'm the puppet master, and he is the puppet.
His eyes grow more intense.
I start to shake. "WHY ARE YOU STARING AT ME?" I look around the room. I need something to defend myself. My razor lies by the sink. It'll have to do.
I slowly reach down for my razor, and when I look up, he's gone. Where did he go? I'm standing in the only doorway, and the windows are closed. I slowly rise, turning my head back to the bedroom. I slowly turn back.
He's there again.
I throw the razor at the man. The man I know little about.
"WHO ARE YOU?"
He only repeats what I say. At the same time.
I'm starting to lose it. That's when I notice the man is wearing nothing but boxers.
"JUST WHO ARE YOU DAMNIT?"
I look down at the floor again, then I realise the gun in my hand. Suddenly it all makes sense.
I point the gun at my head, as does the man in the mirror- high up on the wall. That's why I couldn't see it him when I bent down.
Maybe I should know myself better.
The gunshot echoed around the neighbourhood.
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Stepping out of the shower, I dry myself, and then place my towel onto the rail. I put some boxers on, before going to clean my teeth. That's when I saw him. I don't know him at all, where did he come from?
Who is he?
What does he want?
I know nothing about him. His eyes are full of evil, his face is grubby; he has the look of a killer. He must have a dark past- it's visible in the way he stands.
His hair is greasy- he takes no pride in himself.
What has he done?
He looks suspicious. I bet he's murdered someone, no, I know he's murdered someone. Those eyes don't belong to an honest man.
Why is he holding a gun?
I glance down at the gun. It's loaded, and the safety catch is off. Is he going to use it? After all, he is a killer.
What is he intent on doing?
I'm scared now. All he does is look. Staring at my eyes, where my eyes look his follow. He repeats all my actions. I'm the puppet master, and he is the puppet.
His eyes grow more intense.
I start to shake. "WHY ARE YOU STARING AT ME?" I look around the room. I need something to defend myself. My razor lies by the sink. It'll have to do.
I slowly reach down for my razor, and when I look up, he's gone. Where did he go? I'm standing in the only doorway, and the windows are closed. I slowly rise, turning my head back to the bedroom. I slowly turn back.
He's there again.
I throw the razor at the man. The man I know little about.
"WHO ARE YOU?"
He only repeats what I say. At the same time.
I'm starting to lose it. That's when I notice the man is wearing nothing but boxers.
"JUST WHO ARE YOU DAMNIT?"
I look down at the floor again, then I realise the gun in my hand. Suddenly it all makes sense.
I point the gun at my head, as does the man in the mirror- high up on the wall. That's why I couldn't see it him when I bent down.
Maybe I should know myself better.
The gunshot echoed around the neighbourhood.
Who is he?
What does he want?
I know nothing about him. His eyes are full of evil, his face is grubby; he has the look of a killer. He must have a dark past- it's visible in the way he stands.
His hair is greasy- he takes no pride in himself.
What has he done?
He looks suspicious. I bet he's murdered someone, no, I know he's murdered someone. Those eyes don't belong to an honest man.
Why is he holding a gun?
I glance down at the gun. It's loaded, and the safety catch is off. Is he going to use it? After all, he is a killer.
What is he intent on doing?
I'm scared now. All he does is look. Staring at my eyes, where my eyes look his follow. He repeats all my actions. I'm the puppet master, and he is the puppet.
His eyes grow more intense.
I start to shake. "WHY ARE YOU STARING AT ME?" I look around the room. I need something to defend myself. My razor lies by the sink. It'll have to do.
I slowly reach down for my razor, and when I look up, he's gone. Where did he go? I'm standing in the only doorway, and the windows are closed. I slowly rise, turning my head back to the bedroom. I slowly turn back.
He's there again.
I throw the razor at the man. The man I know little about.
"WHO ARE YOU?"
He only repeats what I say. At the same time.
I'm starting to lose it. That's when I notice the man is wearing nothing but boxers.
"JUST WHO ARE YOU DAMNIT?"
I look down at the floor again, then I realise the gun in my hand. Suddenly it all makes sense.
I point the gun at my head, as does the man in the mirror- high up on the wall. That's why I couldn't see it him when I bent down.
Maybe I should know myself better.
The gunshot echoed around the neighbourhood.
hehe good story
Good story about self-knowledge sorta thingy and that, but theres some stuff you might want to re-work a bit.
"Stepping out of the shower" means the person has obviously just had a wash and will be clean, which doesn't tie in with "his face is grubby" and "His hair is greasy"
Unless I aren't understanding something mate, but it glared out at me!
"Stepping out of the shower" means the person has obviously just had a wash and will be clean, which doesn't tie in with "his face is grubby" and "His hair is greasy"
Unless I aren't understanding something mate, but it glared out at me!
Stepping out of the shower, I dry myself, and then place my towel onto the rail. I put some boxers on, before going to clean my teeth. That's when I saw him. I don't know him at all, where did he come from?
Who is he?
What does he want?
If you didn't have your boxers on, that could of sounded very strange.
Who is he?
What does he want?
If you didn't have your boxers on, that could of sounded very strange.
Well that freaked me out a little...Its good, worrying but very good!
Kyz22 wrote:
> Good story about self-knowledge sorta thingy and that, but theres some
> stuff you might want to re-work a bit.
>
> "Stepping out of the shower" means the person has obviously
> just had a wash and will be clean, which doesn't tie in with "his
> face is grubby" and "His hair is greasy"
>
> Unless I aren't understanding something mate, but it glared out at me!
Well spotted, but, there is a meaning to it. It syas that he takes no pride in himself, ie. Having a shower means standing under running water and not actually washing.
As I said, well spotted.
Thanks for the replies.
> Good story about self-knowledge sorta thingy and that, but theres some
> stuff you might want to re-work a bit.
>
> "Stepping out of the shower" means the person has obviously
> just had a wash and will be clean, which doesn't tie in with "his
> face is grubby" and "His hair is greasy"
>
> Unless I aren't understanding something mate, but it glared out at me!
Well spotted, but, there is a meaning to it. It syas that he takes no pride in himself, ie. Having a shower means standing under running water and not actually washing.
As I said, well spotted.
Thanks for the replies.
personally, i dont think that was the way a normal bloke would react. i think a normal bloke would stare a little, then walk off slowly, with an angry expression. he wouldn't SHOUT or rant or rave - unless the guy likes to start fights. e.g "what ya lookin at" says the stupid little year 6, about half the size of me and with hair like alan davies.
oh, and what's wrong with y-fronts?
oh, and what's wrong with y-fronts?
And you call someone that shoots himself normal?
The madness of a guilty conscience.... Liked it.
Microchips wrote:
> And you call someone that shoots himself normal?
well yes.........
that's what all the people i know end up doing, anyway.....
> And you call someone that shoots himself normal?
well yes.........
that's what all the people i know end up doing, anyway.....
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