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Antonia Monologue

Decent Essays

Suddenly the voice of Antonia, the Latin woman from the third door, echoed in my head: A toad! In my country, that is not a good; it means there bad spirits inside.
"Maybe it's not really a toad," I said suddenly.
"Not a toad?" Gemma repeated, confused.
"You know—the old man, he could transform into a crow, what if he is now a toad." Even listening to myself, I sounded insane.
Gemma's expression turned grave. "Well...I don't know that it is or not,” she said, clearing her throat, “but I thought I should release it."
"It's probably not," I said suddenly, dismissively, "I don't know why I said that, it's just—" I leaned in closer, my voice almost a whisper, "do you ever wonder what is actual reality or not? If there's evil lurking every corner now?"
"Sometimes," Gemma confessed tilting the pail. "Honestly, there are some days my soul feels completely consumed with fear. But...I try to tell myself to have hope...and hope that most things …show more content…

Jogging back up the drive, I drew near to the fence gate. With one swift movement, I unlatched the lock and opened the door. The gate creaked and my body froze. Maybe I should go to the red book, the thought trickled into my mind. See if it's still there, or better yet, dispose of it in the trash. For five seconds, I remained motionless then impulsively I rounded the fence and strode down the length of the wooden wall. The trees from the forest pressed near me, casting dark shadows, and for a second, it felt as if they were glaring down from their lofty height. A cool ominous breeze push passed me and my eyes scan wildly when suddenly I stopped. At the place where the red book was was a pile of orange leaves. Bending down, I began rustling my fingers through the foliage, but to my surprise, instead of a book...there was an old worn sweater? It wasn't possible, a red sweater? I had seen the book, or at least, I thought I had. A shiver ran through me. It was happening

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