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[CP Original] Out of SyncEli was the most average of little boys.
Every morning he would wake up smiling brightly at each new day.
He then stretches out him limbs, take some fresh clothes and get dressed for school in front of his mirror.
But one day, as Eli popped his head out of the collar of his shirt, he was horrified at the image staring back at him from within the mirror – it appeared to be himself, but it was hard to tell. The boy in the mirror was almost entirely covered in blood, spewing from an open gash in his throat. His head was misshapen and one of his arms appeared to be crooked, dangling loosely from the shoulder.
He screamed, and so did the boy in the mirror.
He fell backwards, and so did the boy.
Eli stumbled out of his room to tell his parents, who waved off this vision as a harmless figment of their child's over-active imagination, and rushed him to hurry or he'll miss the school-bus. As he did so, Eli has avoided any reflecting surface, fearing he'll meet with his bloody reflection.
I Remember the Circus (a short story)I'm scared.
I know a grown man shouldn't be this scared, but I am.
I don't know where is this place that I've ended up at and frankly, I have no recollection of how I got here.
All I know is that I'm here and that no one else is around. I see nothing but a large pointy shape in the distance.
My memories bring me back to days spent at the circus, as my legs take me forward, bringing me towards the tent like moth to an open flame.
And suddenly I'm in front of the large tent. An enormous, intimidating, time-stricken circus tent. I am so bewildered by it's appearance that the vibrant, unaged black-and-red colored stripes – that don't seem to match up with its worn-out look – elude my observation.
I feel as though I've been here before, with my parents, maybe.
But I now remember they never took me to any circus.
And still, I recall it clearly, the memory of going with my parents to see the colorful tents and stands. But at the same time, I know they
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