(Note:This is a story I'm writing about two of my OCs.)
Chase tossed and turned in his sleep. He had been hearing a voice-unlike any voice he'd ever heard singing "Little Game" over and over,begging him to sing along. To be caught in the rythmn. But he wouldn't. He couldn't. They'd hear him. They'd charge up to his room. Three strikes,Chase Asher,they'd said. They'd already caught him twice. No telling what they'd do now. But he couldn't resist. "Don't you think it's funny how they tell us how to live?" Chase sang out. "Don't you think it's funny how we'er all delinquent kids?" the voice sang back. Chase very much enjoyed singing with the voice,who was definetley a girl. He had become distant at school,wanting nothing more than to sing back & forth with the Girl. The boys at school teased him about her. His parents took him to therapy. But he still sang. And the girl still sang back. Until the letter arrived.
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Queen of horror stories & teller of morbid jokes
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