Speak.

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Raven MonroeI think I always knew I was going to die young. Like I had this… silent, invisible clock ticking down to my final moments plastered above my head. Maybe that’s why I was so reckless, crazy. Why I sought after adventure. Why nothing scared me… Except, there was always this… feeling I couldn’t shake that something was in the darkest parts of every corner, under every bed, closet, or room, like a ghost watching me. Waiting to take me. My own, personal reaper.n But it was always only during a lightning storm that I could see the outline of my reaper. No scythe. Just a tall, faceless shadow in a hood, staring at me in the dark…n That was the thing though. It was never the storm itself that scared me. Never the loud booming of thunder. Never the howling wind or the way the windows

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