meilingyee

I walk the moonlit path As the wind unleashes its wrath It elicits from me a tremble As its many allies assemble They whip and whirl the trees Upsetting the many homes of bees They care not a wit for the troubles of others Be grateful you are not their brothers Oh, how they howl so! Their icy fingers seem to glow Their fury has no match And no door for me to latch A ray of light kindles some hope, A voice cries, "Now run, you dope!" And crashing thru the forest brush I emerge with a fiery blush My fears were unfounded Now, with my imagination grounded I find my terrors were nothing more Than a little sister, playing her lat

Her heart was beating erratically in her chest as she peered over the top of the couch.  Footsteps down the hall made her return to her huddled position.  Clapping a hand over her mouth, she hoped her labored breathing wouldn't give her away.  A shout and a series of screams coaxed a whimper from her lips. It wasn't safe here.  She'd have to hide.  As she crept forward to peer around the couch, her knee made a pop! sound.  Cringing, she listened to the thundering silence.  She peaked around the couch, and saw no one.  Not wanting to miss this chance, she darted for the closet at the opposite end of the room.  She flung the door open, meshed

The moon dances in and out of the clouds as I approach the glen.  The night’s chilled air invades my veins and permeates my bones.  My heavy breathing creates a cloud of fog in front of me, and I struggle to calm down.  The glen stinks of death, and I shiver from the caress of the icy wind against my sweaty skin.  Every inch of me is repelled by the glen’s atmosphere.  Even so, I have a chance of escape in this treacherous wood. The sounds of men yelling reverberate behind me, and the flashlight beams sweep the parking lot.  I’m left with no choice.  Repressing one last shiver, I tear into the glen, trying to cover as much gr

The moon was a brilliant orb in the sky as I lay in my bed, using every ounce of my will to stay put and listen.  I knew he would be waiting, and if I wasn’t there on time he would leave without me. There! The sound of heavy footsteps climbing the stairs.  Father must have been preoccupied; he normally went to bed earlier.  The sound of the floorboards creaking was a deafening music to my ears, and the door shutting tight was the greatest finale ever.    Silently, I got out of bed, and gathered the sacks under my bed.  No need to wait, I was late as it is, and father would wake if th