I was walking through the park with my parents, enjoying the warm sunshine and the sights and sounds of the city. We stopped at a hot dog stand to grab a snack, and as we sat down at a nearby bench to eat, I announced that I was going to explore a bit on my own.
My parents hesitated at first, but eventually they agreed, telling me to be back within an hour. I set off with a spring in my step, eager to see what the city had to offer.
As I walked down the street, I came across a cute little boba tea shop called “Boba Tea Delight.” The colorful sign and the smell of sweet, creamy tea wafting through the open door beckoned me inside.
I stepped into the shop and was immediately greeted by the friendly staff and the cozy atmosphere. I ordered a refreshing iced tea and found a seat at the bar. As I sipped my drink, I struck up a conversation with a cute boy named Tom who was sitting next to me.
We talked for hours, lost in our own little world, and before I knew it, the sun had set and it was getting late. I called my parents to tell them I was staying at a friend’s house for the night, not wanting to cut my time with Tom short.
We made our way back to his house, where we cooked dinner together and spent the night together, cuddled up in his cozy bed.
But as the night wore on, I began to notice something strange about Tom. There was something off about the way he moved and the way he looked at me. And when I woke up in the middle of the night to use the bathroom, I found that Tom was nowhere to be found.
I searched the house, calling out his name, but there was no answer. And then, as I turned a corner, I saw him standing in the hallway, a glass shard in his hand and a wild look in his eyes.
I froze, not sure what to do, as Tom advanced on me, his eyes fixed on mine. I knew I had to get out of there, but I was too terrified to move. And as I stood there, trembling and alone, I saw the glass shard in Tom’s hand and the blood dripping from his mouth, I knew I had to get out of there. I turned and ran, my heart pounding in my chest.
I stumbled down the hallway and out the front door, gasping for breath as I tried to put as much distance between myself and Tom as possible. I had no idea where I was going, but I knew I had to keep moving.
As I ran, I spotted a car parked at the curb with the keys still inside. Without hesitation, I yanked open the door and climbed behind the wheel, my hands shaking as I fumbled to start the engine.
Finally, the car roared to life and I floored it, tearing down the street as fast as I could go. I had no idea where I was going, but I knew I had to get as far away from Tom as possible.
I drove through the dark streets of Atlanta, my heart racing as I tried to figure out what to do. I had no idea who to trust or where to turn, but I knew I couldn’t go back to Tom’s house.
As the miles ticked by, I began to feel a sense of dread wash over me. I knew that Tom was out there somewhere, and that he would stop at nothing to find me. And as I drove through the night, my heart racing as I tried to outrun the fear that was chasing me. But no matter how fast I drove, I couldn’t shake the feeling that Tom was right behind me, ready to pounce at any moment.
As the hours ticked by, I began to feel the weight of exhaustion settling over me. I knew I couldn’t keep driving forever, but I had nowhere to go and no one to turn to.
Just as I was starting to lose hope, I heard the engine of the car sputter and die. I looked down at the fuel gauge and saw that it was empty. I had run out of gas.
Panic set in as I pulled off to the side of the road and tried to think of what to do next. I couldn’t stay in the car, but I had no idea where to go.
Finally, I made a decision. I gathered up my things and fled into the darkness of the woods, hoping to find some kind of shelter or help.
As I stumbled through the underbrush, I prayed that I would find someone who could help me. And just as I was starting to lose hope, I saw the flashing lights of a police car in the distance.
I ran towards the car, relief flooding through me as I saw the uniformed officer inside. But as I approached, I saw the look of disbelief and anger on his face. He didn’t believe my story about Tom and accused me of lying to the police.
Despite my pleas for help, the officer drove me back to my house, where I was horrified to find it engulfed in flames. As I stood there, watching my home burn to the ground I wondered “what the hell is this?” What kind of guy is this? As I type this into my computer I am in police custody and it turns out… my parents are dead. Every sound I hear scares me. I think I have trauma. I think this boy Tom is in a cult.