The flat

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"I am alone in this small old flat."

Submitted: July 26, 2016

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Submitted: July 26, 2016



The Flat

I’m drowning in a sea of lonesomeness.

As the time goes past, I feel like I’m slowly wearing away. No one likes me. No one wants to talk to me. The loneliness kills me again and again.

Just like every day, I’m sitting on the bed, looking out of the dusty window of the small flat, waiting for someone to look up and wave their hands at me; as usual, still no one.

Upon starting to cry for the thousandth time of the day, I hear a sound of footsteps. There are about three or four people coming here!

That’s great.

Suddenly, the door of my flat bangs opens; I see a 14-year- old boy standing outside. He’s about my age, so I think he can be my good friend.

“This flat looks interesting” he says and starts surveying my flat.

I see him step close to my wardrobe and put his hand on the handle. As soon as he opens it, a swollen-decomposed body tumbles out and knocks him to the floor.

“A dead body!” he cries and tries to push my body away.

I will not let him go.

While he’s lying on the floor, too shocked to stand up, I push my wardrobe, but my hand goes through to the other side.

No, I haven’t given up yet.

I regulate my power and push my wardrobe again. This time it works; the wardrobe moves before falling down and collapsing on the boy.

The blood splashes over the floor as a smile appears on my face. I see the other boys running through my flat, screaming, and rushing out with their pale faces. I have to thank them. Thanks to the boy’s nature, it always makes them do exciting, dangerous and stupid things, like going to the abandoned building which my flat is located in. The boys make my dim life become brighter.

Here at the small old flat, I have one friend.

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