Categories > Original > Horror > Memoires of a Sexy Pig...away from the ax
Memoires of a Sexy Pig...away from the ax
0 reviewsThis is a contiuation to my first story. A look in to the main characters life. Pretty wired. Just be opened FEEDBACK IS NEEDED
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Night- Afterwards
After the entire pig ordeal, I was finally able to wake myself up. I don't know how but I did. After seeing the remains of the pig, I picked myself up, leaving the ax outside, to go back into my complex.
There is nothing much to say about my home. It's made out of wood. But that's not the point. The point is that the only way I can retain my stability after a scenario like tonight is to drink. Drinking calms me downs for the only thing that makes the hallucinations go away. I like to call them hallucinations, but I know they are not. I like trying to think of reality as one bad nightmare, and then I wake up by retreating back to my crappy complex and begin to have these "dreams" or - drink. Drink, drink, and drink.
Like other nights when these special hallucinations occur I can never really focus my eyes properly on anything. Yet I also have a remedy for this. I just stand still balancing my good old fashion brew on the top of my head, a trick that I can usually do perfectly. Sometimes I even impress my lady friends with such a weak trick. Tonight, I tried - and tonight it bothered me. I couldn't balance. I tried several times, with several different drinks. Each of them toppled over my face, pooling together on the floor to create some kind of puddle.
For some reason- it must have been the pig- I started to cry. I tried to convince myself that I was only crying for all the beer I had wasted in an attempt to gain my sight back. Yet the thoughts of that pig and her eyes kept coming back to me. It made me feel sick and really made me lose focus within my left eye. I started to cry even more when I remembered that I didn't see my cat today. I think he's lost. I didn't call my mother nor my friend Charlie. All this I hadn't done in a whole God given day. I got sick. Sick, sick, sick. I wanted to see my kitty, so I did. He always made me feel better.
Night- Afterwards
After the entire pig ordeal, I was finally able to wake myself up. I don't know how but I did. After seeing the remains of the pig, I picked myself up, leaving the ax outside, to go back into my complex.
There is nothing much to say about my home. It's made out of wood. But that's not the point. The point is that the only way I can retain my stability after a scenario like tonight is to drink. Drinking calms me downs for the only thing that makes the hallucinations go away. I like to call them hallucinations, but I know they are not. I like trying to think of reality as one bad nightmare, and then I wake up by retreating back to my crappy complex and begin to have these "dreams" or - drink. Drink, drink, and drink.
Like other nights when these special hallucinations occur I can never really focus my eyes properly on anything. Yet I also have a remedy for this. I just stand still balancing my good old fashion brew on the top of my head, a trick that I can usually do perfectly. Sometimes I even impress my lady friends with such a weak trick. Tonight, I tried - and tonight it bothered me. I couldn't balance. I tried several times, with several different drinks. Each of them toppled over my face, pooling together on the floor to create some kind of puddle.
For some reason- it must have been the pig- I started to cry. I tried to convince myself that I was only crying for all the beer I had wasted in an attempt to gain my sight back. Yet the thoughts of that pig and her eyes kept coming back to me. It made me feel sick and really made me lose focus within my left eye. I started to cry even more when I remembered that I didn't see my cat today. I think he's lost. I didn't call my mother nor my friend Charlie. All this I hadn't done in a whole God given day. I got sick. Sick, sick, sick. I wanted to see my kitty, so I did. He always made me feel better.
After the entire pig ordeal, I was finally able to wake myself up. I don't know how but I did. After seeing the remains of the pig, I picked myself up, leaving the ax outside, to go back into my complex.
There is nothing much to say about my home. It's made out of wood. But that's not the point. The point is that the only way I can retain my stability after a scenario like tonight is to drink. Drinking calms me downs for the only thing that makes the hallucinations go away. I like to call them hallucinations, but I know they are not. I like trying to think of reality as one bad nightmare, and then I wake up by retreating back to my crappy complex and begin to have these "dreams" or - drink. Drink, drink, and drink.
Like other nights when these special hallucinations occur I can never really focus my eyes properly on anything. Yet I also have a remedy for this. I just stand still balancing my good old fashion brew on the top of my head, a trick that I can usually do perfectly. Sometimes I even impress my lady friends with such a weak trick. Tonight, I tried - and tonight it bothered me. I couldn't balance. I tried several times, with several different drinks. Each of them toppled over my face, pooling together on the floor to create some kind of puddle.
For some reason- it must have been the pig- I started to cry. I tried to convince myself that I was only crying for all the beer I had wasted in an attempt to gain my sight back. Yet the thoughts of that pig and her eyes kept coming back to me. It made me feel sick and really made me lose focus within my left eye. I started to cry even more when I remembered that I didn't see my cat today. I think he's lost. I didn't call my mother nor my friend Charlie. All this I hadn't done in a whole God given day. I got sick. Sick, sick, sick. I wanted to see my kitty, so I did. He always made me feel better.
Night- Afterwards
After the entire pig ordeal, I was finally able to wake myself up. I don't know how but I did. After seeing the remains of the pig, I picked myself up, leaving the ax outside, to go back into my complex.
There is nothing much to say about my home. It's made out of wood. But that's not the point. The point is that the only way I can retain my stability after a scenario like tonight is to drink. Drinking calms me downs for the only thing that makes the hallucinations go away. I like to call them hallucinations, but I know they are not. I like trying to think of reality as one bad nightmare, and then I wake up by retreating back to my crappy complex and begin to have these "dreams" or - drink. Drink, drink, and drink.
Like other nights when these special hallucinations occur I can never really focus my eyes properly on anything. Yet I also have a remedy for this. I just stand still balancing my good old fashion brew on the top of my head, a trick that I can usually do perfectly. Sometimes I even impress my lady friends with such a weak trick. Tonight, I tried - and tonight it bothered me. I couldn't balance. I tried several times, with several different drinks. Each of them toppled over my face, pooling together on the floor to create some kind of puddle.
For some reason- it must have been the pig- I started to cry. I tried to convince myself that I was only crying for all the beer I had wasted in an attempt to gain my sight back. Yet the thoughts of that pig and her eyes kept coming back to me. It made me feel sick and really made me lose focus within my left eye. I started to cry even more when I remembered that I didn't see my cat today. I think he's lost. I didn't call my mother nor my friend Charlie. All this I hadn't done in a whole God given day. I got sick. Sick, sick, sick. I wanted to see my kitty, so I did. He always made me feel better.
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