Gästbloggare: Just be a few seconds more

Det här är en del av en text ur en bok som en 11-åring skriver.

You wake up, You go to work, And you go home.
Everything is completely normal.
That is until your leg falls into a pothole in the road, Mid traffic. As you try to get out you get hit by a truck. 
Your leg snaps off by the knee, And you left arm and head are now roadkill. 
You wake up, Completely fine, At the place you died. 
It seems to be permanently 11:00, Summer. 
You wonder where everyone went, There are no longer any cars, Animals, Or humans. 
Only you. 

Of course you freak the fuck out and scream for help, No response. 

After a week of searching the city for anything, You give up. You jump off a 12 story skyscraper. 
It doesn't even leave a scratch. 
Quickly freakout turns to realisation, You're stuck. 
You are never gonna leave. After... 
You can't actually tell, Atleast 50 years without aging, Endlessly roaming the empty world, You are in a room, Crying as you usually do around 11:00.
Until you hear footsteps.
Everything turns dark. 

Your fear hinders you from breathing entirely.
As you hear moans of agony and a thing phases trough the wall as if it were not there. It is entirely pitch black, Resembling a vague human figure.
Your hand goes right trough it, you know that you have gone crazy.
Endless distorted ballroom music play from within your head, As if memories of a time before the torment came to you.
Now you will sit here, In this corner, For eternity. Altough it may just be a few seconds more...
Just a few...