17 A Story of A Mysterious Game and The Murdering Story 17 - by Laura

17 A Story of A Mysterious Game and The Murdering Story 17


“Did you bring it with you?”Amy asked. I was stunned------her tone and words are no difference with the one I heard in my dread.

I jabbered, “Well, yes and you?”

Amy still nodded and said nothing.

Now I was scared, she did nod in my dream. Was I still dreaming? I punched myself hard, and I felt the pain------I was not dreaming. But how come all the thing are the same from the real world and my dream. I couldn’t understand.

The words “Then let’s exchange” just slipped out from my mouth before I could stop myself------they were just the same in the dream too. It felt like I was being controlled. We exchanged peacefully.

I also found a strange series of numbers in front of me. On it was written 48:00. What did it mean? I looked at Amy to make sure she didn’t see my mysterious expression, but she had the same look on her face------curious, worried, and a little bit scared. I was relaxed and set my eyes on that series of numbers again. But something very weird happened, the number turned into 47:59:30. I raised my eyebrow. What on earth is that number meaning? I looked around hoping for some clues. Just then, my eyes scanned on the wall and found a sentence------Time is money. The words hit me in the face. Those numbers represent the time. It’s a counting down clock. Now the clock had 47:59:00 written on it. That meant, I have forty-seven hours left. And it’s only two-day left. But after the forty-seven hours past, what will it happen? Will I die? Or will the game end at that time? That’s a good imagine .

The bell rang; it was time for the afternoon class------we were planned to exchange name cards in recess.

Amy said before I could speak anything, “Did you notice something strange?” she asked suddenly.

“Uh, what kind of strange thing?” I had a feeling that Amy could see that series of numbers too.

“Like some numbers.” She bit up her lips and spoke slowly.

“Yes.” I answered quietly. But a part of me was relieved that Amy faced the same situation with me.

“I figured out the numbers meant time. How much time do you have left.” I hesitated for a moment and decided to tell her the truth.

“Oh,” she was surprised, “I see. Mine is 47:55:11. Does that mean I have one day left for, for something?”

“Right,” and I looked at my numbers again, it was exactly the same. “U had the same number with me. I wonder if it’s the counting down time of this game. I mean, when this clock ended, the game ended. But I’m not sure what will happen then. And what about the student who had died? Will they never come back?” I blurted out so quickly.

“Maybe, I don’t know either.” She shrugged and we went back to class.

Now there were two dangerous things in the game------Amy and the counting down clock

But erasing either of them is a tough task for me.

Suddenly, that mysterious man’s voice called out: “Oh yes, I’m back”


Laura