This was the first time I had ever had to sign for a letter addressed to Occupant
‘Now they want to psychologically torture me? Now they won’t even address me by my name?’ I asked myself.
I had earned the wrath of the community but I had consistently refused to behave in an abominable way. I was ostracized but that did not change my resolve.
I left the house, a bit crestfallen, and was shocked to see a strange hording that had been placed outside the fencing.
‘What sort of joke it is?’ I muttered and was not surprised to hear sniggering laughs of those who were, at one time, my friends.
“I will not become a blood-sucking vampire, never. You...……..” I was about to let out a curse. But I promptly checked myself.
‘Have they already succeeded in provoking me?’ A doubt began to seep into my hollow ghostly chest.
A post for Flash Fictionfor the Purposeful Practitioner