Tommy Carter is Gone

Aqui vai um conto que eu escrevi no inglês numa prova da vida.
É por esse motivo que está em inglês, e eu, com medo de modificar alguma idéia importante, nunca traduzi. A quem puder ler: divirta-se :)

Something unusual happened to me a few days ago. When I got home from school, there was a letter waiting for me.

Even before I could read it, I sensed a bad feeling (a bad “flavor”, if you will), something that made me feel like a spider trapped inside an end-and size-less maze.

Tommy Carter was not a friend of mine. He was that weird guy, always at the school rooftops, speaking to aliens or so I was told.

He suicided a week ago.

Burned himself to death.

I have no idea of why would he do it - the letter.

“I can’t take it.

Something, INSIDE!

It spoke to me – whispered.

I was being taken, I would fly away.

DO NOT LET IT IN, DO NOT LET IT IN!

Away…

         COME TO PLAY”

Insane. His handwriting changed after the “away”.

After that, I got a phone call. It said “I’m coming, Mr.Grey”, and it turned off.

Mr.Grey. No one else knew about my primary school nickname, not even my parents.

It’s inside. I’m afraid.

Today, I woke at dawn, but it was dark. Someone knocked at my door. I said “come in”. Then the light changed to a feeble, sick, yellow, and I vomited.

I have been struggling with conflicting feelings the whole day.

No one came, but I can feel it.

Tommy Carter didn’t do it right, but I won’t fail anymore.

Fire is its habitat.

I’m going out now.

Do not answer it.

See you later.