When I wrote this short story, I was in sixth grade and loved scary movie. I had just been able...
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I hear noises. I hear a horrible piercing scream. It’s a voice I’ve never heard. I feel the warm tears flow down my face – or is it blood? I’m not sure. I move closer to the door. My body shakes and shivers. I see splashes of paint on the door. I get a closer look. It’s not paint.
I still hear voices. Screaming. Yelling. Shouting. They all differ but I can’t tell the difference. I hear cries of pain. It’s still all of a sudden. I just hear a scratch on the floor going further…… and further. I stay near the door listening. It feels like years are passing by. After a long while I hear footsteps. Hard footsteps. They come closer….. and closer…… closer. The door flings open. I scream.