Being Murdered

I shall endeavor in telling you about my gruesome death (which is one you wouldn’t want to simulate) that occurred on May 20, 1903.

It’s night, dark, cold, peaceful, and quiet. The only sound heard is the calming sound of the wind passing through trees. I am clad in blankets, laying in my bed, half-asleep. I had a feeling that something or someone was lurking in the darkness of my house; although, my eyes failed at seeing what or who it may be.

I eventually succumbed into my tugging feeling and gingerly sat up in my bed; my eyes wide open, fully alert, the tugging feeling still tugging, but no sounds were heard. I surmised that it was just my imagination and reluctantly tried to go back to sleep, but I never got the chance…

As soon as my head hit the soft pillow, someone jumped out of the darkness and began strangling me with my mattress. I grimaced with each second gone by. My strangulation was done in a cursory manner and my life was quickly, over….

Next thing I knew, I was being deposited carefully underneath the floorboards in my own house. After that, I never heard the sound of the wing passing through the trees ever again.

Ofcourse, my murder must electrify you, but it is unfortunately true.