One magical night, perhaps it was something I had said.
It all started in a white room, there was nothing around. I called out, but there was no reply. I remembered vaguely a gunshot, and a stinging pain in my chest, but nothing more. The sound of the shot echoed through my mind. I assumed I had died and that I was now in the hereafter.
I thought I lived a righteous life; selling children stocks, stealing money from that evil catholic church, and worshiping twilight every night before bed. Any god would be pleased with me for sure. Or not, because I soon started to hear "Every time we touch" by Cascada playing in the distance, and it was getting closer. I frantically tried to escape the horrid sound, but suddenly I was stopped by a giant razor-toothed chipmunk. I looked for something to defend myself with, and I was in luck. About 30 feet away was a record player, and on the ground next to it was the soundtrack to the breakfast club. I quickly turned it on and covered my ears. The chipmunk exploded. But then the soundtrack was drowned out by the Cascada song. I was in hell, and I had to escape.
One magical night, I was fast asleep in bed.
One magical night, Something happened in my head.
One magical night, i dreamed that i was dead.
One magical night, perhaps it was something I had said.
It all started in a white room, there was nothing around. I called out, but there was no reply. I remembered vaguely a gunshot, and a stinging pain in my chest, but nothing more. The sound of the shot echoed through my mind. I assumed I had died and that I was now in the hereafter.
I thought I lived a righteous life; selling children stocks, stealing money from that evil catholic church, and worshiping twilight every night before bed. Any god would be pleased with me for sure. Or not, because I soon started to hear "Every time we touch" by Cascada playing in the distance, and it was getting closer. I frantically tried to escape the horrid sound, but suddenly I was stopped by a giant razor-toothed chipmunk. I looked for something to defend myself with, and I was in luck. About 30 feet away was a record player, and on the ground next to it was the soundtrack to the breakfast club. I quickly turned it on and covered my ears. The chipmunk exploded. But then the soundtrack was drowned out by the Cascada song. I was in hell, and I had to escape.