Hello! This is my first attempt at a horror story of this kind that I actually liked, and so I decided to throw it up on my blog. Take a look at it, and go ahead and comment and tell me what you think! I loves dah feedback.
It is currently Sunday at 5:00 pm. The last arrows of weak light from the dying winter sun are piercing through the gaps in the blinds of my bedroom window. Dust motes lazily float in the warm air inside of my house while outside already freezing temperatures begin their spiraling descent into the deep chill of the night.
Dusk is the worst time of day. With the setting of the sun, a peculiar emotion filters through my body. There is loneliness, to be sure—something about the light sliding across the land, away from the rushing darkness. I feel something else as well; something that I cannot put my finger on. Something that gives me pause whenever I feel it, though I do not know why. As if I am not at home—uncomfortable and peculiar—even in my own skin.
Everything in my house is quiet, save the low hum of my computer and the background drone of warm air rushing out of metal vents near the floor, like hot breath being expelled from some primordial creature. It is comfortable now—I've drawn the curtains, the grating sound of metal rings on rusty rod sounding out in the calm.
I choose to live a life of solitude. My deformity has never, and never will, garner any positive attention for myself.
