Board Thread:Writer's Workshop/@comment-25024572-20150328005353

I've been writing in different styles and ways, trying to find something that really works. I've done written a micropasta, a poem, a normal story, and now a second-person point of view story. I'm curious to see what you all think.

You sit in a room, your only company a gun on the floor next to you. The door’s blocked off, but you know it won’t last for long.

You hear them, on the other side of the door, moaning and scraping. You look at the gun, and remember what you had to do, who you had to kill-

(No, not who. What. Those…things…weren’t your friends, weren’t your family, wasn’t the one you loved. They might have had their faces, but they didn’t have their souls.)

- to survive for this long. Was it worth it, you wonder. You’re probably going to die soon, anyway. There’s probably an army at that door, and it won’t hold forever. And even if it did, those things won’t go away. You’re stuck here until you starve to death. What a terrible way to die. And having those things come in and eat you is no better. Hell, it’s probably worse.

There’s an easy way out though.

The gun.

The gun can provide a quick and clean death.

No pain.

No suffering.

Just one shot.

That’s it.

On the other hand, you can probably kill a few of those creatures, maybe enough to make an escape, and live another day. But is it worth it? Is it really worth running and fighting and killing to hang on to one day, to see one more sunset? Is your life really worth living, when everyone you know and love, everyone who made your life worthwhile, is dead, by your hand?

Sure, you tell yourself that those weren’t your loved ones. You tell yourself that to help you sleep at night, even though you know, deep down, that those things you killed were your friends, were your family, was the one you loved. You know, damn it, you know. So the question is, do you deserve to live after killing them? Do you even want to live?

The door breaks down, those things come in, and you know you have to decide now. You pick up the gun, aim it, mutter a quick prayer, and fire.

A body falls to the floor, dead.

So, what do you guys think? Is the story good? Should I prove upon it? If so, how? Please let me know, so that this story can be the best it can be, and possibly be an actual Creepypasta. 