Wake Up

"Death to writers!" The readers yell.

"Please!" I yell, "I just wanted to tell a story! To make Gen happy!"

I back away, afraid, nowhere left to turn.

"You're a demon!" The readers yell.

"No one has to die!" I plead, "please!"

"Reaper is right!" The readers all smile creepily, staring at me, "death to Edgar! Push Gen to suicide!"

"I can explain!" I beg.

"Don't lie to them," Reaper approaches me, smirking, "you are a sinner. We'll push Gen to suicide, and you'll be next. Just give in. End it."

I hold a gun, the soul erasing gun made by I.T., and slowly lift it to my head...

I wake up. Ugh, my head. I always have weird dreams when I have migraines. It's the worst. I'm on the True Author's mind on the Other Side. Why am I here? Why the fuck not?

People are still siding with Reaper, if this keeps up...

Oh, oh pen. I suddenly become nauseous from the pounding pain, like a hammer in my head. I throw up.

I wipe my face off. I have to keep working, no matter what. I need to relax, clear my head.

I head into Gen's crystalline palace, the light reflecting off of the light blue crystals only makes things worse. I'd lie down, but I don't want another dream like that. I still remember the attacks. They hate me, you hate me. You always will. I'm not meant to be happy, I'm meant to write. Reaper is right about one thing, a demmented writing incarnate is all I'll ever be...

Ah well, I have, oh pen not again.

I throw up again.

I should clean that up, but I have to focus on my job. I have stories to write. My health is of no consequence, as long as you hate me and love Gen, so, until next chapter, I bid you farewell.

Bạn đang đọc truyện trên: AzTruyen.Top