Board Thread:Writer's Workshop/@comment-26286557-20160722030043/@comment-26286557-20160731024609

Hey guys. I fully understand your guy's feedbacks and I thank you guys for it. Sorry to hear that the story wasn't that good. So I've re-written the story where I fixed the grammatical errors and changed the plot points. I also changed the title from The Observer to The Observing.

In the midst of the darkness, I concentrated on the figure, who was staring at me from the other side of the room. It's haunting, nightmarish gazes gave me the impression that it knew exactly what I was thinking.

Even though it looked human something about it, something I couldn't figure out, doesn't seem to be. Its face seems so expressionless. It was observing me like I did something wrong, something unforgivable, staring at me with a bitter grudge.

I slowly reached my hand up toward the switch, as I continued to stare back at it. But once I reached it, the lights refused to turn on. I kept on trying but it just refused to switch on. As I panicked, the figure just continued to stare at me. I reached for the door, which was still wide open. But once I touched the door knob, the door slammed shut in furious rage, creating some small cracks around the door frame.

Without hesitation, I grabbed onto a flashlight, attempting to shine it at the figure. But once I turned around, it wasn't there. The chair didn't have a single mark on it to indicate that something sat on it. It was like it never existed. Then, as I turned to my left, something caught my eye. There was something dangling above my bed, something that looked like leather.

I shined my light on what was dangling, which turned out to be a bit. As I slowly navigate down the belt, I started to see a figure, hanging with the belt. When I shined the light on the figure's face, I was breathless. I couldn't believe it. It was me, hanging from the ceiling. Well, at least something that looked like me.

So that's the re-write of the pasta. Please let me know what you guys think. Don't be afraid of using brutal honesty, I honour brutal honesty.