A writer who writes through her imagination and inspiration.
“It doesn’t smell nice here”-Nako.
Nako is so scared that she keeps holding shotaro’s hand.
“Don’t worry I’m here. “-Shotaro.
“Look! What’s there on the floor?”-Nako.
“It looks like a weapon. Hm..T-1000 it says right here. Maybe it’s useful. The fact that it’s here means that it’s important. Let’s bring it upstair.”-Shotaro.
They bring the weapon upstairs to their respective bedrooms. Shotaro is in the room 405 while Nako is in room 406.
“Will you be fine alone in your room? “-Shotaro smiles.
“I’m not sure. Can you stay with me?”-Nako smiles.
“I could but if that’s fine with you.”-Shotaro.
Oops! Nako why did you say yes to him quickly. Control yourself Nako! -Nako’s thought.
That night while sleeping alone in her bedroom, she hears a loud noise all over the walls. Like there is something in the walls all this year. She holds the blanket even tighter. Dap. Dap. Dap. It sounds like someone is walking outside of her room and sometimes, it feels like that someone is beneath the ceiling and the other times, it feels like that someone is beside her.
There is nothing there! There is nothing there! I will be fine-Nako’s thought.
Then someone touches her shoulder gently.
“Nako, it’s me. Are you okay?”-Shotaro.
“Oh thank God you’re here.”-Nako.
“Oh gosh. You’re sweating so hard. “-Shotaro.
Nako then hugs him. He gently caresses her head until she falls asleep. The next morning, she finds herself on Shotaro’s chest.
I must have fell asleep last night on his chest. Nako, what have you done? -Nako’s thought.
A moment later.
“Good morning. I hope you have been sleeping well”-Shotaro.
“Oh yes, I have been sleeping well”-Nako.
I don’t know why but holding his hand seems just so natural. Like I have known him for thousands of years. Who is this man? -Nako’s thought.
This content reflects the personal opinions of the author. It is accurate and true to the best of the author’s knowledge and should not be substituted for impartial fact or advice in legal, political, or personal matters.
© 2022 Grace