Those who have heard of my curse says it is a gift. That I must belong to a higher supernatural power, destined for great things. They say I should be grateful and stop hiding in the darkness. They say I should use it to save those in need. They say it with a gleam in their eyes, that shadows the meaning of those words. Some are even envious of what I can do or can get into. They say with my power, they would party their life away. Scoff and ask why I live in the shadows. But I am not the person they think I am. I have ruined more people than I have helped. Their memories haunt me when I run and hide every day. My curse is not a gift. I cannot sleep; I have no need for it and my body does not wear down from the lack of it. I wish it did sometimes, though. Maybe it would be better to sleep away those memories, if I could forget them. To not remember so vividly of everything I have witnessed would be a blessing. Because there are more frightening things that come out when everyone is asleep. And that is not even all of my curse. No, because I am a psychiatrist.
I forgot my sick sense of humor forms awful jokes.
Welcome to my No Sleep Zone. And when the next bullet rings in the air, when the next knife jabs, when the next whip scores, I'll hit the ground running. Because there is no good reason to keep snoring.
Hi everyone! This is my first Wattpad story I have published, so tell me what you think! If you have any criticisms, just make sure they are all constructed, but not like the House of Cards (terrible movie reference) :)
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Run
ActionThe knife man slowly sliced a deep wound down the woman's shoulder a quickly stabbed her in the stomach. I gasped as she doubled over, imagining the pain she felt. The knife man quickly glanced up and looked at my hiding place. I shrank back, but it...
