Fatima Bello
Bio
I have a passion for writing realistic fiction as well as filming and directing. I also want to own a production studio one day, in which I can help local actors, directors, and cinematographers live out their dreams.
Stories (1/0)
Just Run
I woke up this morning with a headache. One so severe that I’d probably pass out if I stood up. I couldn’t stand even if I wanted to though. My arms were harnessed to the metal bars of an old, wrinkle-sheeted bed that had dry blood stains on it, perhaps from previous victims . My arms and legs were cold to touch. My back and neck were stiff, preventing me from looking from left to right without log-rolling my whole body. I was in pain. Deep, intense pain. I looked around to see a bunch of medical wires propped up on machines that I had no clue what was used for. The off-white paint on the walls were peeling, with brown residue residing in every corner of the room. The smell of the room was of some type of foreign chemical that may have been diluted in bleach. The smell was so bad that I had to breath in through my nose and out of my mouth to prevent getting the metallic taste the smell left on my tongue. My heart skipped a beat which made me let out a dry cough, and when I looked down I noticed my necklace was gone. It was the same necklace the voodoo man gave me right before he turned into a zombie. His exact words were:
By Fatima Bello3 years ago in Fiction