I wanna write a story. So, here it goes.
Kristi rested her head against the cold, hard ground of the stage floor. She faced the dimly lit ceiling and wondered if Stephanie was right. What if she was just normal? Well, she didn't want to believe that, but, at the same time, even if she wasn't, she never believed in anything mysterious and haunting until her later life. What if it didn't work?
She decided to try it. She stared into the darkness that was the auditorium seats. She noticed that the air seemed to visually swirl in front of her. Her vision began to focus, and she could now see every individual seat as clear as day. She moved her vision to the chair that was claimed to be Erik's, and found that a man was sitting there. Not exactly a man, but a shady figure. She called out, "Erik?" The man relaxed in his seat, and she opened her book a different page than before. She recited, "The Opera Ghost really existed. He was not, as was long believed, a creature of the imagination of the artists, the superstition of the managers, or the absurd and impressionable brains of the young ladies of the ballet, their mothers, the box-keepers, the cloak-room attendants, or the concierge. No, he existed in flesh and blood, though he assumed all the outward characteristics of a real phantom, that is to say, of a shade." She paused, then snapped the book shut. She shouted, "Am I psychic?"
She heard a dark whisper answer, "Yes,"
Bubbles says: Team Foreshadowers.
Kristi rested her head against the cold, hard ground of the stage floor. She faced the dimly lit ceiling and wondered if Stephanie was right. What if she was just normal? Well, she didn't want to believe that, but, at the same time, even if she wasn't, she never believed in anything mysterious and haunting until her later life. What if it didn't work?
She decided to try it. She stared into the darkness that was the auditorium seats. She noticed that the air seemed to visually swirl in front of her. Her vision began to focus, and she could now see every individual seat as clear as day. She moved her vision to the chair that was claimed to be Erik's, and found that a man was sitting there. Not exactly a man, but a shady figure. She called out, "Erik?" The man relaxed in his seat, and she opened her book a different page than before. She recited, "The Opera Ghost really existed. He was not, as was long believed, a creature of the imagination of the artists, the superstition of the managers, or the absurd and impressionable brains of the young ladies of the ballet, their mothers, the box-keepers, the cloak-room attendants, or the concierge. No, he existed in flesh and blood, though he assumed all the outward characteristics of a real phantom, that is to say, of a shade." She paused, then snapped the book shut. She shouted, "Am I psychic?"
She heard a dark whisper answer, "Yes,"
Bubbles says: Team Foreshadowers.
No comments:
Post a Comment
Bubbles says: COMMENT!