Humans Are the Real Monsters

If watching cartoons has taught me anything, it’s that ghosts aren’t real and humans are the real monsters. That thought crossed my mind as I stood in the dimly lit alley, rain falling in a misty drizzle. I had found a crumbled note wedged into my car door, the ink barely readable. The note read: Meet me at the abandoned amusement park at the edge of town at midnight. Come alone if you dare.


I began to wonder who could’ve left me this note and my curiosity got the better of me. Against my better judgment, I found myself heading to the abandoned amusement park as the clock struck midnight. The creaking gates swung open on their own as I entered, and the rusted carousel began to turn backward, its music playing a haunting tune that sent shivers down my back. The roller coaster ride began to move on its own and the cotton candy machine turned on. I walked over to the cotton candy machine to grab some cotton candy.


I eat the cotton candy, it was good. At that moment, I had this feeling to turn around and run. Before I could move, a shadowy figure stepped out, grabbed my arm, and snarled “You’re about to find out who the real monsters are.”

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