Morgen Fuentes
Stories (1/0)
The False Anti-Christ
I remember when I first met her. I remember how we ran through the wild green prairies. I remember how she always had a smile on her face when she saw me. Now that I look back, it made sense when she would frown when I talked about our homelives or going home. Back then, I imagined that it was the reluctance of leaving her playtime like any other child would at the age of six. I saw her everyday during the summer from the time I was four until I was nine. My family would travel to the countryside during the summer for my father’s work for the government. She would always be waiting for me, hidden within the safety of the trees from the other side of the overly tall grassy meadow. She would come out as she saw me with the largest smile on her face and we would spend hours roaming the field, enjoying our childhoods. With how normal she seemed, I guess I never questioned it. I never knew what she was. I never in my life would have guessed that she was one of them.
By Morgen Fuentes3 years ago in Fiction