The Fall
When I woke up it was pitch black, I reached for my phone, it read two thirty-five. I shuffled the small set of draws up to the window, climbing on top of it, I shoved the window open carefully so as to not make a sound. I pulled myself up and shimmied out the window, it was a low down window on the outside that was a few inches above the patio floor. The air was chilly, I tugged my hoodie tighter and crept towards the back of the garden, towards the wooded area. I was wearing black leggings, with my dads grey Yale hoodie and my old black converse, my hair was braided into two school braids. The house remained silent as I made my way to the edge of the garden, my dad used to take us on hikes
Bab Populer