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A Firm Grip on You
A Firm Grip on You

A Firm Grip on You

2 Reviews

I placed my flowers next to my father's grave. Sighing, I stood back up. I looked down at his old grave, tears welling in my eyes.
It's 12 years since he was gone.
Scream, swerve, crash. And just like that, he left.
A crow cawed, making me jump. Just then I noticed how creepy the graveyard looked. Mist crawled towards me, moistening the air. But it was too heavy, choking me. Yet, the grass was yellow and dried. It crackled, crisp under my heavy footsteps.
I wrapped my raincoat around myself tighter. I started walking away, my rushed breaths coming out as small puffs of steam.
I screeched as something gripped onto my heel. It was a bad choice to were flip flops. The thing, whatever it was, was freezing cold, painfully biting into my foot.
I kicked free before really knowing what it was. I took two steps away from it, breathing hard. My eyes widened. It was a white hand. Wrinkles and bone shone on the pale skin. I screamed and ran and didn't look back once.

I slammed my door shut, desperately gasping for breaths. What the hell was that?
"Cedric!" My mom called me. I nervously put my jacket aside and walked towards the voice of my mother.
"How are you, honey?" she asked sweetly.
I frowned. "Mom, what's with the accent?"
"What accent?" she kept her awfully-big smile on. "It sounds Russian, Mom. I don't know. You're the one who's acting weird."
My mother pouted, sticking out her lower lip. She put both of her hands on my shoulders.
They were a tad cold. I looked down, noticing how pale, wrinkly and bony they were.
I gulped.

Author Notes: Was that scary?

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28 May, 2019
Read Time
1 min
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5.0 (2 reviews)

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