Now this is my second story, you must be thinking that I'm making this up.
I'm not, I'm eager to share.

I've been working on my writing skill so excuse the 'story' style writing.
~
Airplane
--
"Ladies and gentlemen, please buckle your seat belts. We'll be hitting a little turbulence."

I was nervous; this wasn't my first time flying but the chair I was sitting in had a presence to it that clearly told me it had a past. Someone had been seriously injured in it.

Perhaps the plane was haunted, I don't know and I don't quite want to know.
Turbulence, wind, rain spattering against the windows.

The presence and the weather weren't doing much good for my nerves at the moment.

I was able to fall asleep.

Besides the fact that it was a rather fitful rest, my dreams, as usual were of the creepy crawlies; only someone who's bumped into something out of the ordinary knows of.

I landed in New York and I was picked up by my friend.

New York
==
The first few days went fine.

I was staying in her apartment, we were getting along fine.

Though there was a painting that she had hanging between two windows that was eerie to me, it seemed to have a life of its own.

It seemed to shift around during the night.

I was in New York for business (besides my current job) and things weren't going so well, so I was already a stress pot.

February 5, 2005

The weather was bad, I had a cold, my head was light and I was unbalanced. I was too stressed at the time to notice and odd activity accumulating around the painting.

I stood near one of the windows the bordered the border of the painting.
I had my forehead against the glass, I was alone.

My vision flashed red, for a second, I could see myself falling out the window (thankfully we were only on the third floor).

Something smashed into me from behind.

I broke through the window, tearing myself up, bleeding profusely.

I landed on a couple tin trashcans and broke a hip, several ribs, a leg, and an arm.

My friend has since disposed of the painting, seeing as how she didn't care for the painting ever since the paint began to run after my incident.

The painting was originally of a young boy, standing on a platform.

It's now in the trash.