English Project

Pretending to be Asleep Doesn’t Work
Sir Dante Ruchandi The Fourth 12A

A young boy is sleeping in his bed on a usual night. He hears footsteps outside his door, and peeks out of his eyes to see what is happening. His door swings open quietly to reveal a murderer carrying the corpses of his parents. After silently propping them up on a chair, he writes something on the wall in the blood of the dead bodies. He then hides under the child’s bed.

The child is scared beyond belief. He can’t read the writing on the wall and he knows the man is under his bed. Like any child, he pretends that he slept through the whole thing and hasn’t awoken yet. He lays still as the bodies, quietly hearing the breathes from under his bed.
An hour passes, and his eyes are adjusting more and more to the darkness. He tries to make out the words, but it’s a struggle. He gasps when he finally makes out the sentence.

“I know you’re awake”. He feels something shift underneath his bed.













Story Reflection

A mixture of feelings that almost every kids have in one story. We as kids sometimes have hatred for our parents. I mean don’t lie, you’ve ever wish they were never your parents. Others even wished death upon their parents. Other things we do as a kid is pretending to not be in the situation that we don’t want to be in. Maybe putting on an earphones when you’re getting scolded, skipping pe classes with a reason of you having an injury during lunch, and many more. But what I think we all experience as kids is at our comfy place that we still love to lay on till today, our bedroom. In a dark howling night we as kids often like to imagine astral beings around us. All of these combine can create an amazing spooky story that I, The Fourth am about to write.

Yeah, I been going hard, staying hot like the summer. Blinded to the hate, like my name is Stevie Wonder. Now I'm in the top floor, I'm smiling, I'm grinning. Living in my dream, oh, man, I bought my dream car. Realizing, man nothing doesn't make you who you are cause money buys designer to wear over you scars. I am a man from humble beginnings. Wasn't born rich, wasn't born privileged. Lebanese blood, I was born ambitious.

And if the world ever has an apocalypse I will kill all of you people. Fear will be plentiful, death will be bountiful. I will spare none of you peasants. Forget your religion, your pacifism. And got sent to a prison in PC. I’ve seen the devil, he’s in you and me. You need saving to listen to this, see. Follow them home, cut the right corner so nobody sees you. Turn off your phone, leave it at home so nobody can trace you. Mask your expressions, appear to be calm, they won't read your intentions. As soon as you’re in, let them all know who they’re all in the presence of… I am a murderer, I am a demon, the son of a serpent. What is your faith? What is your worth? Have you felt acknowledgement? If I kill you now, will you go to heaven or hell you believe in? Death is approaching you. Thirty seconds, think before lying in a blood sea.

I'm in pain, want to put ten shots in my brain. I've been tripping about some things, can't change. Suicidal, same time I'm tame. Picture this, in bed, get a phone call. Girl that you had sex with killed herself. That was this summer and nobody helped. And ever since then, man, I hate myself, really want to end it, pessimistic. All want to see me with no pot to piss in but brothers been excited 'bout the grave I'm digging. Having conversations about my haste decisions. Sickening at the same time, memory surfaced through the grapevine about my uncle playing with a slipknot. Post-traumatic stress got me messed up. Been messed up since a couple months they had a brother locked up.

Not too sure what to make of this? It doesn't seem to follow the format prompt. A good bit of it comes from Jocelyn Flores XXXTentacion...