Chapter 1 : [Confusion] (Friends Version)A Story by SirEnviousThis is my friends version of my story,I think it's better,so I will post it hereYou open your eyes, yet you see nothing. The only thing surrounding you is the creaking sounds of the wind from the window. Everything around you is strange, not the room, not the walls, not even the bed. “Where am I?” You voice out, hoping that there may be a kind soul who knows where you may be in. However, the only reply are the echoes resounding from the walls. Without any choice, you fight your fears to step on the cold, solid ground. "This is definitely not my room." The slight cracks on the ground, the unfamiliar cardboard bed, and even the crumbling walls. You may have been able to fight the fear to get off the bed, but this is not the time to be relieved. Doing a quick scan around the room, you notice that there are toys all over the floor. You double checked by looking carefully so you wouldn't lose balance, and made it to what you thought is a make-up table. You then notice the door right beside the table. Checking the drawers for anything which may be useful, you naturally took the torchlight and opened the door. You carefully walk out from the room, your only option now is to walk through a long corridor leading to the right. Without any alternatives, you follow your instincts and walk forward without much thought. You notice a small table along the corridor. Curiosity grasps you and you approach the table. You find pictures of a family you don’t recognize and a small radio beside it. You turn on the radio and a loud static sound awakens you just like morning coffee. The old radio, as if dying, repeats news of a family murdered in 1955. It describes family found dead in the living room of the very house you are in, describing accurately about a middle aged man holding onto a revolver, and what seems to be his wife. The wife clutches onto the two children, a young boy and a girl, probably trying to shield them from the father. You don't stumble onto these kinds of family issues anymore at this time and age. As you hypothesize what the modern 'netizens' will think of the incident, fear instills itself into you as the radio kept going. "The police has //SCRIEEEEEK// about a 6 month baby drowned **//SHRIEEEEK//** in the family bathtub." You convince yourself that fear will not benefit you, and kept moving forward till a corner to the right. Taking a peek, you recognize that the way leads to the entryway of the house. Where beside it is another door. You aren't sure where it leads to, but this time there is another choice; a way that leads to another long corridor. Treading lightly on the cold grass, you try your luck on the front door, only to be disappointed that it was locked. Sighing, your half-asleep ears pick up a sound above you. You look up, and be disappointed yet another time that there was nothing. At least now you know that it’s a two-story house. Although hesitating, you continue to walk along the long corridor, with it being the only option again. You keep walking, struck with nostalgia walking through corridors. Time flies quick, as you have reached the end of the corridor again. “There seems to be an awful number of doors around this darned house.” You try to hide your fear by complaining, as any citizen in this time of revolutionary computers. You open the door, listening to the ever so familiar creak and walk through without any thought. A sudden darkness surrounds you, and you find yourself at the kid's room again.
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Added on January 27, 2017 Last Updated on January 27, 2017 Author
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