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About me Hello, My name is Chardon, AKA ChArK. I'm a 15 y/o female with an intrerest in becoming an author... a horror author, that is. Every week or so, I'll come on here and write another story or poem or something, so keep coming back. BTW, fortune city is not liable for anything I write. If it offends you, blame me, not them.Thanx!~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~GHOST RIGHT(short story by me)~~~~ I didn't see it coming. It just hit me like a ton of bricks. I had no idea that i would die so young. It wasn't my fault. Some jerk plowed into the back of me. My car spun out of control, and into the next lane, right in the path of an eighteen wheeler. What a shame. I was only 16. They said I didn't feel a thing. They were wrong. you see, even after you die, it hurts. But you know what REALLY hurt? Autopsy. That hurt. I saw parts of my anatomy thrown out and cut and squeezed and sliced more than I'd care to say. They sewed me back up and put me in a nice little dress, then threw me in a coffin. But that didn't last long. Thank God. After the service, they took me to my grave and threw dirt on me. That is a BAD feeling. Especially since I'm claustrophobic anyway. Or should I say "I WAS"? I'd only been in there for a few hours when I heard voices above me. Then a shovel. By the way, whenever you're in a graveyard, be careful what you say. We can hear everything. The shovel got louder and louder, until it was banging on the lid of the coffin The lid slowly opened, and I got my first good look at Mr. Grave Robber. My own freaking cousin. Chris had dressed entirely in black, but like the stupid ass he was, wore a pair of bright white shoes with neon laces. He thought they looked cool. YEAH RIGHT! Maybe in the EIGHTIES! He looked me in the face. "Lisa, guess what?" His girlfriend Lisa shrugged. "If we take all her jewelry, plus her dress, we might be able to make somewhere around a thousand dollars!" He grinned. "Uh-uh. Nope. I'm not stripping her down!" "Well, the dress is only about $150. We can deal without it. I never liked the bitch anyway." He started to reach for my necklace. I had no idea that for once my body would listen to what my brain thought. Maybe God felt bad about killing me off so soon. I reached down and bit his hand. Chris screamed in pain. I put my hands around his neck and twisted. With a crack, he fell to the ground. Lisa began moaning. Not the pleasure oh-that-feels-good type moaning, but the oh-God-I-can't-believe-this-is-happening type moaning. "Stay away from me!" She screamed. She smacked me in the head with the shovel. I grabbed it and cracked her skull with it, remembering all the times her and Chris were jerks around my friends and I. I pushed their bodies in the coffin and closed the lid, then I filled the grave up with dirt. I looked down at myself, calmly brushed the dirt off, and walked away. by Chark, 1997 | ||
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