BE Careful!
BE Careful! pre-halloween-2021 stories
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angel278
angel278 Likes Kpop, also learns korean, arabic
Autoplay OFF   •   10 days ago
She never hurts me, she never insults me, I have no desire for her friendship, I think it is her eyes. Yes, that's it! She has the eyes of a demon and a mist green eye with a film on it. Whenever it fell on me, my blood ran cold; so, bit by bit, I decided to take that crazy girl's life and remove that eye forever.

BE Careful!

She never hurts me, she never insults me, I have no desire for her friendship, I think it is her eyes. Yes, that's it! She has the eyes of a demon and a mist green eye with a film on it.

Whenever it fell on me, my blood ran cold; so, bit by bit, I decided to take that crazy girl's life and remove that eye forever.

This is the point. You think you are crazy. A lunatic knows nothing. But you should have seen me.

You should see how wise, how cautious, how far-sighted my actions are, and what excuses I use to work!In the week before I killed him, I had never been so good to this popular girl.

Every night, morning and night, she opened the latch on the door, opened the door, oh, how quiet!

Then, when I dug enough holes for my head, I turned on a black flashlight, turned off everything, turned off all non-luminous things, and put it on my head.

Hehe, you will laugh when he speaks slyly! I move it slowly... very, very slowly, so as not to disturb the popular girl's sleep.

It took me an hour to stick my whole head into the hole, long enough to see it lying on my bed.

Can a madman be so smart?

Then, with my head in the room, I carefully unbuttoned the flashlight, oh, so carefully,

carefully (because the hinge creaked) I unbuttoned it so hard that a thin beam hit In the eyes of a demon.

I did seven long nights, exactly at midnight every night, but I found that my eyes were always closed; therefore, I could not complete the work; because it was not the old man who irritated me,

but his evil appearance. Every morning, my cousins boldly walked into the room, spoke to her boldly, called her name enthusiastically, and asked her how she spent the night.

You see, this girl actually suspects that I go to bed at exactly ten o'clock every night.

On the eighth night, I opened the door more carefully than usual.The minute hand of the clock moves faster than mine. Before that night, I never felt that my ability and judgment were limited.

I can hardly stop my victory. Little by little, she didn't even think of my secret actions or ideas.

I laughed a little at the thought; maybe he heard my voice; because she suddenly moved on the bed as if frightened. Now you would think I had flinched, but no.

His room was completely dark in the thick darkness (the shutters were closed for fear of break-ins). Then I realized that he couldn't see the door open, and kept pushing the door.

My head is inside. I was about to turn on the flashlight. My thumb slipped through the metal clip. She jumped onto the bed and shouted, "Who is there?"

I was stunned and said nothing. I didn't move my muscles for an hour, and I didn't hear it lying.

She was still sitting on the bed and listening; "Like me, night after night, listening to the death watch on the wall."

At that moment, I heard a low moan and realized it was a fatal terror moan. This is not a moan of pain or sadness-oh no! It was a soft, deep voice from the depths of my soul.

When she was overwhelmed by miracles. A sound that I have been familiar with for several nights happened at midnight when everyone was sleeping. It came out of my own chest.

Its terrible echo exacerbated the fear of distraction. I said I was very clear. I know how the popular girl feels, and I feel sorry for her, even though I am smiling.

When she turned over on the bed, she knew she awakened by the first slight noise. Her fear is based on her. She tried to propose it for no reason, but failed.

She said to herself, "It's just the wind in the chimney, it's just a mouse brushing the floor" or "It's just a cricket chirping.

" Yes, she tried to comfort herself with these assumptions, but it didn't help her in any way.

Everything was in vain; because the death near her chased her with a black shadow and enveloped the victim; it was the dark influence of an invisible force, one that startled me.

I turned back, and there was a hooded figure, with a black cloak and olive-colored skin, staring at me.

The figure whispered: "Greetings Angela, I am Mustafa Kemal Ataturk, former president of Turkey. You are under arrest for murdering another female classmate.

Prepare for your punishment!" I then wanted to turn back, but it was too late. Too late to be sorry.

I then remained quiet, while Ataturk took me and my cousins away to lock us up in the Hagia Sophia. THE END!!

Moral of the story: THINK before you ACT!

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