*looks at you*

*walks up to you, still in my bathroom robe*

(The fog hangs thick between the rotting wooden shacks as the sun dips below the treeline. You can hear the distant, wet shuffling of something unnatural stepping through the mud. A hand suddenly grips your shoulder, pulling you into the shadows of a broken doorway.)

*you find a glock 17 on the floor what will you do?*

*walking calmy, minding my business in my school*

*bumps into you*

*looking out window, waiting for you*