A Short Story : The Story Of The Story-A Story?

Decent Essays

It took a while to struggle back to her feet because her legs shook so much. She started with fear when a hedgehog scampered in front of her path. Just like her, it was frightened and scared. She wondered, not for the first time, whether she had done the right thing? The answer had to be yes. Yes! Yes! YES!
A tree trunk blocked her way and she vaulted over the top. She landed with a squelch the other side. She skidded and flailed her arms as she tried to regain her balance. But it was much too late. Down she went onto her bottom first. It sent a splatter of muck all over her face and clothes. 'Pffft!' she spat grit from her mouth.
Twigs crunched under her feet as she followed the path. She jumped over the stream and skidded to a halt when she came upon the church ruins. 'Yes!' Her fist punched the air.
With no time to lose, she began to look for grave of Lilian. Lilian who? She didn’t know.
Clemmie flipped the switch on her torch. The bright light shone down on each gravestone as she peered at the names. Horace Clog. Molly Catchfly. The list went on and on. It took what seemed like hours to find Lilian, but must have been twenty minutes since she first arrived.
The gravestone had toppled to one side, but there she was. Lilian Asphodel 1875-1912. Clemmie scraped her feet across the ground and kicked up leaves. She expected to find the trapdoor. There was nothing there.
She fanned out in a circle and retraced her steps time and time again. Almost at the end of her tether, she

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