Chapter 6: One to Call

45 2 0
                                    

Yay for NaNo word count! Boo for so freaking much editing to do... IM SO SORRY!

Plus school sucks... but what else is new?

BUT UPDATED IN THE SAME MONTH!!!!!!!!!!!! SO HAH!

Also, next chapter is when I start into the blood, guts and gore, isn't it exciting? :p

========================================

I don't know why but writing calms me down a lot more then it probably should. Especially the topic I was writing about. I decided to write the story or start to at least. Maybe if I started getting ahead they wouldn't come after me and kill me. 

But how should I write it? A first person horror, thriller? A third person fictional horror? 

I put my head in my hands breathing in and out slowly. They didn't specify how, they just wanted their true colours shown to the world. That made my job harder. How do I do that and not piss them off?

I could pull it from my prospective... make myself the semi heroine, or I guess just the main character as there isn't really any saving graces for me, heroine of my own story or not. 

I breathe out a heavy sigh. This is going to be harder then it sounded. Everything has to be right, everything has to fit their goals and their every command. Would one screw up cost me my life? Maybe that was another question I should have asked them. 

"You're over thinking Jay! Stop it!" I tell myself stupidly. Speaking out loud to myself doesn't help my 'I'm not crazy' plea. 

"GAH!" I scream running my hands through my hair crazily as if thrashing. It has barely been twenty four hours, and I haven't even seen anything yet! If this is how I am already reacting and acting how can I ever survive this whole ordeal mentally? I am ultimately screwed on my own part. I should just accept that fact, because I am not getting out of this alive. Either I fail my task or I fail myself, either way I'm not getting out of this. It's just not happening. 

There are so many things I wanted to do before I died. I had so much more life ahead of me, so much potential. I know I sound cocky saying that but how am I supposed to react to this? I WANT TO LIVE! By God do I want to live. I don't think that I deserve to die. Not by going insane, not by the hands of crazy, mythical killers. 

I hadn't been young when I had the chance. Always fighting for my survival until I started publishing my books. I was found on wattpad by a semi well known publisher and the rest is history. Until now. Now my history is coming to a stale end, a premature end. 

I groan and run my hands through my hair one time, two... then I stop. 

I pull out an orange note book that had barely been used previously. Pulling it open I start a new page. My bucket list, the things I want to do before I die. Knowing I wont be able to do them but maybe, just maybe, someone will do them for me when I do die. 

My Bucket List. 

I scrawl at the top of the page. 

1. Travel the world.

I smile at that one. It's what I had wanted most in the world since I was small. To leave the hell hole I was born in and the parents who didn't care and just travel. Make my own memories. I look down at my note book and tap the back of the pen onto the paper a few times, pondering a few more things to do. 

2. Get kissed in the rain. 

3. Go on a picnic. 

Odd BallingWhere stories live. Discover now