He sat on his bed, his legs wrapped in his arms. Sunlight gleamed through the slats in his window, giving the room a golden glow. He had a high pitched ringing in his right ear. Suddenly, he jumped up and smashed his way through the flimsy door of his bedroom. In the corner of his dirt-patch yard was his skateboard. Snatching it up, he took off down the hill. Trees whirred past and he felt the wind whip against his face. Flocks of crows flew overhead, shadowing the road. An old shed passed by. By the time he had rounded the bend, he realized that that old shed was his destination. With a flip of the wrist, he flips his board up and grabs it as he sprints to the rusted door. Crumpled and rusted was the doorknob to the shed, but the padlock was in an even worse condition. Light was fading fast, beams of yellow shining through the pine trees, illuminating the branches and bugs that were beginning to emerge from the grass. It was difficult to see his own hands- they blended into the dark around him. An owl screeched as fireflies sprung from the bushes- bioluminescence in a sea of black. An idea came to his head. WIth a swift move of his hand, he smashed the lock against the shed. No luck. He tried again, frantic this time to get into the damned thing. There was not much time. The seconds ticked by, along with two shadows in the trees. No time….no time…. He had to get into the shed before they did. If they got in…..
Grabbing a rock from the ground below him, he took another hack at the lock.; over and over. “Damnit open!” he wailed. He dropped the rock and continued to pound the lock with his fists until they bled. In the near distance, a stick cracked. There was no escaping… it was too late.
Grabbing a rock from the ground below him, he took another hack at the lock.; over and over. “Damnit open!” he wailed. He dropped the rock and continued to pound the lock with his fists until they bled. In the near distance, a stick cracked. There was no escaping… it was too late.