Three quick, demanding knocks on the door made me jump. I set down my old, poorly abused rag doll, and stalked off to get the door. The cold, wooden floor was whining from the change in weight and pressure.
The person at the door knocked and knocked, only pausing to look into the small window or to listen for footsteps.
"Hello? Terry? Are in there?" The voice I would know in a second called, his hands cupped around the small window in an attempt to look in.
"Jared? What are you doing here?" I called in a hoarse voice as I opened the door. He took in my pale face, slight, broken figure, and my voice and sucked in a sharp breath.
"Terry? What in the world did you...?" He gasped. "Your...your sick...arn't you?"
"How'd you guess?" I said in a sarcastic voice.
"We'll...we...you and me are gonna...go somewhere...we are gonna make you better...when you..." He trailed off.
"Jared? What's wrong with you?" I felt like slapping him. It must've showed on my face because he ducked back.
"Why didn't you...tell me...?" He asked in a strained voice.
- Title: The day that I die Part 2
- Artist: Letitbo
- Description: My second part to this story, if you haven't read it search "The day that I die"
- Date: 03/21/2009
- Tags: part
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Comments (1 Comments)
- Letitbo - 03/21/2009
- There is alot more to the story, I post in parts though.
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