That night, I heard the sound of someone being killed. Not simply dying, being killed. It was a scraping, metal sound. I was the last to leave work that night, locking the back door behind me.
Read MoreThere’s a girl on the softball team in love with her bat. You see them together, in the storage room. You hear her whispers, hear her sighs. She says you can’t tell anyone. Says she’ll break your fingers if you do.
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