I am so, so, so sorry that I was away for a while. Maybe you missed me. Maybe not. Who knows.
While I was away I received not so many postcards honestly, but that is all because I am moving to England next week, and I wanted to have some two weeks time brake, so the postcards wouldn’t come to the Macedonian address, but go there, to the English one.
This is what I got while I was away. Well, this is just one of them, hehe 🙂
Do you like scary horror stories? You are just on the right place, because I have one for you.
One of the many reasons why I love Reddit and why I love /r/RandomActsofCards. Thanks to /u/ljsweenes , I got a postcard from the USA, New York. I love those kind of postcards that hide a story inside them, and I love writing about it. It makes me fulfilled and happy. It definitely makes my day.
It’s not a simple postcard… This one is very scary!
And this is the story:
The story of the Sleepy Hollow is that some school teacher, called Ichabod Crane, is being chased by the :Headless Horseman of Sleepy Hollow”, thought to be Brom Bones, the town bully. Legend tells of the Headless Horseman riding every midnight, carrying a flaming pumpkin and sword. He would look for victims walking and cut off their heads. The only way to escape his attacks was to cross the old bridge, past the Old Dutch Church, at the edge of town.
Do you know a scary story you want to share from your town? We’d all want to hear it! 😀
I am one of those complicated people. The ones that are so twisted, that make you wonder why you still talk to them. I am one of the girls that make you regret meeting me at the first place, and then again, feeling like you’re the luckiest person on Earth because of having me in your life.
I lied, you know.I lied a lot. I lied about small stuff. And I lied about big ones. I lied, not because I didn’t care, but because I’m like that, complicated, broken, can’t be fixed. I lied to you about things you’d never even care about, but not because I wanted to, but because I couldn’t help it. I didn’t just lied to you. I lied to all the people that surrounded me. I wanted to be accepted, and I had to fit, you know. And different people demand different lies. I wasn’t sure if they’d accept me for me. For who I was. Half agony…
For who I am…
I am also half hope.
After I met you, that is.
When I realized what you mean to me. I don’t lie now. Not you.Never. I couldn’t do that again. Can’t bear with your eyes full of tears and disappointment. Can’t bear with you telling me how I don’t deserve to have a child. Can’t see how sad I make you, when I know you love me for who I am. And for who I was.
I don’t even care for the others now, baby. Because you knew me. When I was half agony, and when I was half hope. And you loved me, every step of my way. Of our way. I don’t want to lie anymore. You know I don’t want that. And you know there’s hope.
There is hope for me. For you. For both of us.
(Thank you /u/ljsweenes, for the lovely card with the Jane Austin’s quote: “I am half agony, half hope.” that inspired me to write this short story.)