It itches, this needle. I want to scratch and scrape to try to dig it out but I’m strapped so tightly around my waist, my legs, my arms that the only thing I can move is my neck.
By Liz Chasky3 years ago in Horror
“The smoke is what I remember most. Coughing, gagging, spitting. I couldn’t breathe. My eyes stinging, squinting, weeping. I couldn’t see.
Her eyes focused on the tattered white dress on the floor. With every thud of the headboard the dress’s crimson stain danced in her vision. Was it wine or blood that had caused it? She could no longer recall and no longer cared.
By Liz Chasky3 years ago in Criminal