They were like zombies, but instead of eating her flesh, they’d walk up and say something dumb to her.
I sit beside her grave during my lunch break every damn day. It freaked me out at first, but I got used to it. It even started to feel normal. Like I was where I was meant to be.
They didn’t mean to fall for each other. The decks of cards in each of their hands were not favorable for them to be lovers; she was two years into her marriage and he was recently divorced.
Scenes that make you wonder how the hell this book got so popular.
Our arrangement was golden. I barely had to do anything, aside from sit there and answer survey questions. I liked spending time with her. And I trusted her. I knew she wouldn’t do anything immoral, put my life in danger. At least, not on purpose.
I took a few moments to calm down a little bit and fully absorb my situation. Something about the whole situation seemed off from the get go.
It didn’t work. The gun went off, but the shot went over my head, blowing out my ears just before I reached my old friend.
My husband is a little taller than 6 feet and has some body on his body. I like this. Makes me feel like a tiny waif. A girl likes something substantial to hold onto in the bedroom.
Hearing them speak clear English instead of gibberish was beyond creepy. Their words didn’t even sound natural. They sounded forced, like the voice actors had guns against their heads. But it got creepier.
While the photo was noticeably low quality, I was able to recognize it instantly. It was the outside of my house.