She ran out of the door and ran, ran, ran as fast as she could. She was running away from that diary and that note, and from that house, that she knew so well and almost didn't know. That house where she never felt safe in her whole life, where those ghosts pursuited her during her whole life, preparing her, for what she didn't know. She was running and running but the snow was heavy and cold and the woods weren't as friendly as they used to be when she was a child. (sharingtheworld 6)
You are viewing a single comment's thread from:
I thought this was a good effort, try again for the next paragraph, the story needs you!!