Creative Writing Paranoia

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Aiming my flashlight at the ground in front of me, I breathed as I saw the cold air turn my breath into a cloud. The grass that was below my boots was soft as I crushed the blades underneath, the aftermath of the light rain giving off a dewy smell to the air. Continuing my walk, I was soon distracted before I stopped myself, realizing the structure in front of me. A large gate blocked me from the other side of it, spikes protruding from the top of the gate and the sides that seemed to spread out for miles on end. Reaching out to the gate, I felt a sudden sense of dread, as though a boulder had suddenly filled my stomach. Shaking off this feeling and chalking it up to paranoia, I placed my hands on the bars of the gate, the old metal being extremely cold from the rain, metal chipping off its surface due to centuries of rust building up. Pushing on the gate, I opened it a bit before feeling something grab me, pulling my back as my hand ripped away from the bar of the gate. I attempted to scream out, yet the other hand of the mysterious person covered it, preventing any way to bring attention to my ordeal. Fighting continuously, I was pulled down the side of the hill into a small ditch, where the figure pinned me against the ground. Turning my head to see the person, they held my face to the side, keeping me from even a slight glance at their face. Their strength was formidable, inhumane it could be considered, yet it was obviously being held back from it’s fullest potential. …show more content…

They continued to scold me for almost trespassing on private property, as though I voluntarily ignored signs and continued to make my way to the

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