guineverelove
Blood in my ears. Chalkboard. Ringing in my head. Chalkboard. You wrote things and scratched at the black with your white utensil like a madness had overcome you. I can't take it. I can't take it. Chalkboard.
I heard it coming. The radio waves rounding the corner. I looked back and I knew I didn't have much longer. Running wasn't going to happen. I couldn't win. It was going to get me. Penetrate my ears. It's the end.