Lilith Angeni's Place In Estes

She got up and walked into another room. The house was way bigger than the family units and was filled with objects and tools I’ve never seen before. While she was gone, I just watched Gabriel sleeping, cuddled up in the blanket. Before she returned, I fell asleep myself.

She pulls her scarlet coat closer wintry wind pushes by. Her delicate features scrunch up in discomfort as the bitter air pricks skin. Maria squints her radiant, jade eyes at the multitudinous papers posted on the wall and sees the multiple reports of missing people. As she warily strolls further down, she notices a large chalkboard covered with an innumerable amount of names. There is space beside the name Alma, and Maria furrows her eyebrows in confusion while searching for a writing tool. Her fingers desperately dig into the snow and uncover a small piece of white chalk. She scribbles her name down, and as she turns around her eyes find a doll that looks identical to her resting within the shop. Her emerald-colored eyes widen like saucers as she inspects the doll. The urge to go to the doll burns bright inside her, as if she is a moth to the flame. She looks at the oddly shaped door, her stomach churning in suspicion. The door is jammed and she gives it one final push with her shoulder, turning around in disappointment. The door opens to reveal her look alike, within her reach! Maria darts towards the doll, but not before nearly tripping over a moving object. Her breathing grows ragged as the doll heads over to the door, its entryway shutting. Her eyes slowly move back to the center table, where the doll no longer stands. Maria's green orbs finally rest on the doll. While debating whether

She pondered for a few minutes thinking about what could be contained in this letter. Caroline quickly thought of her husband who was fighting in the war, she suddenly got very scared, she had a feeling that this could be a letter about his passing. She felt the letter it felt rough like a piece of tree bark. Caroline could not bring herself to open the letter fear that this could be awful news. The maid could see the struggle and sadness on her face just like a baby look before it is about to cry. The closes thing she had to a friend was that maid. So the maid sat next to her trying to confuted her but Caroline was getting worried. She kept on feeling the letter hoping for any bad news to instantly change to good with the rub of her fingers. The concerned maid and the even more concerned Caroline just sat there for a while hoping for a sign. Then suddenly there was a knock on the down stairs door one of the other maids in the house open it, allowing someone in the house. They heard this mysterious person come up the stairs. They could tell it was

She grabbed a white gown and as she pulled it around herself, she also noticed that it had the same inscription over the breast. She dashed out of the bathroom, wondering what the hell had happened at the party. What if some psycho had taken advantage of the fact that she was drunk and kidnapped her? At least she knew that if it had happened, he had not yet had sex with her. She looked around the room and spotted her clothes folded neatly in the closet but her handbag and cell phone were nowhere to be found. Somewhere in the suite, she could smell the scent of fresh coffee and eggs cooking. Her abductor was probably getting himself well fed before he came to rape her. She felt a shiver running down her spine as she tiptoed her way out of the room into what was a living room. A sound in one of the adjoining rooms caught her attention and she decided that it must be the kitchen where the guy was busy preparing himself breakfast. What if they were many and they all intended to take turns on her? No, she could not let such thoughts ran through her mind, and besides, Beth would never have let such a thing happen to her.

When Alexia was going to Birdwell since father couldn’t go because he had a job to do at home and he couldn’t do it in Birdwell so he had told her over dinner acople of weeks before that he had business in the vilge and he couldn’t go but she could if she still want to and she said “yes father I still want to go to Birdwewell even thogh you don’t coming but I am still going about going to Birdwewell with you by my self around crismish time.” So she was going by herself to Birdwell. she decided Instead of going straight to the Birdwell she will go trgho the forest that her friend Yipe so they can walk trogh the forest together and talk about what had been hping since the last time she had seen him and meet her animals friend. She got to the edge of the forest where her friend who name is Yipes lived the morning of the trend day. He had built himself a little tiny home were grode people couldn’t fit in the second level part of the house. They had already planned to meet at his hose so they could walk thou the forest together to Birdwell. when she got to the path that yip himself made from the froset to his house it was 12:30 in the afternoon They went through the forest where her animal friends live to so she could meet them and catch up on want had been

It was just another November outside the city, fairly poor on spare-time choices, but rainy and gray. Right between sudden showers, Carrie decided to move towards the mail box and send a letter she’d never be replied to. For years so far she tried to solve the mystery of her origins, writing to a father figure that did not seem too realistic. Sometimes, at night, before she reached the happiness of an undisturbed dream, she realized it might be just a story. Over and over again she moved forward from her blindness, but believed the story already at dawn. That is simply how life functioned in her small village-she had to hold on something!

Now, sitting up straight in bed, she clutched her chest and gasped for air. Moving to one side of the bed, she placed her feet squarely down upon the shaggy throw rug that held her slippers. Although she had shaken off the murky nightmare, for her, the experience was disturbing and all-too real; however, the harrowing event wasn't the first occurrence of its kind.

Amy was talking to the police and then telling me to break the window and get out. I knew something was going on, my nerves were rising, faster than a tsunami. Then silence occurs. I was so worried that I started envisioning about terrible, frightening, nasty things such as, I was imagining that she may have been shot by a sniper that I didn’t hear happened or perhaps the people who went inside our house stabbed her so many times that she lay dead on the ground and I simply chuckling on her acting. To check what was going on, I gradually opened the door and calls out Amy’s name once. Then the minute I opened the door two hands snatched the book faster than a lightning strike. When I took a look at it, it was Amy. She looks exactly fine, and untouched. I got

It had lost its feeling of being homely after the wallpaper faded to a grotesque green that covered all four faces of the room. The lights were dimly light to conserve money as they didn't get as many visitors and business wasn't booming like before. I lied on the awfully uncomfortable bed and endured my agony of the problems I was facing. After tossing and turning trying to sleep, I gave up and crept to Gavin’s room. His annoying yet distinctive snoring reminded me of all the good times we had as children before he changed into a selfish and manipulative human being. Walking back and forth in the compact room I finally set my mind to make a run for it and hoped for the

The room was dark, the humid air was sticking her dress to her skin, and the smell of death lingered. Her mother lay on the bed with a wet cloth over her forehead. Maribelle slowly sauntered toward the bed.

The door opens and I walk down the foldout steps onto another wide street. Not home. No. Somewhere scarier. Another big gray building with a strange circular roof looms before us, stretching out as far as I can see in any direction. We walk in and take lots of turns until I reach a grey room with a bed, a chair and a funny piece of furniture with a flat top. The woman who dressed me came with us and gives me a big cup of green juice that tastes really funny. Then she closes the door and I hear a click. “Good luck.”

She opens the book and sets about getting lost in it's pages. After about half an hour of adventuring through the book, she get up, checks out the book, and walks outside ti find Lucy waiting for her. Guilt sweepes her at the sight of her dog smiling up at her and she makes a promise to herself that next time she will take her for a real walk. She unties the leash from its post with numbing fingers and walks the three blocks back to he house, head still whirling with images of fantastic powers and exitment.

"Thank you," Elina said, taking the book from him. She walked north, to the other side of the library. She walked to a mahogany table, away from other forms of life but her. She sat down on a chair, seeing the sunlight shone through the dusty window behind her. She placed the book on the table, examining the cover. As she read the description on the back, her thoughts finally hunted her down. Watching two children playing from the window, to her, they seemed to have a playful time. "It'll be nice to actually have an adventure for once, but that's what books are for." As she opened the book, it started to glow. Suddenly, everything went dark. Lights mysteriously turned off, window blinds are shut tight, allowing little light to pass. The thud of the book is heard, no longer feeling the table."Mr. Maplewood, I can't see anything!" But when she shouted, the only sound she hears is her voice and her heart beating. She walked around a bit to search for shelves, but nothing seemed to be there, just emptiness. Neither she could feel the chair she just sat for a few seconds ago or her yellow backpack she just placed it on. The book is the only thing

On the 2nd floor the elevator opens and she breathes in the smell of musty smell of a very old building. She strides down the hall to the last door on the right. Deep breath in, deep breath out, she grabs the knob and opens the door.

Sir, your room is ready. Room 213 on the second floor. Take a left at the top of the stairs; it will be the fourth door down,” said the desk clerk. I asked him for his name, and he said it was DeShawn West. I then walked towards the stairs and headed for my room, which was surprisingly large. It had a common area and two bedrooms, each with its own bathroom. The patio was petite and it was linked with the ones around it, only divided by a small iron bar railing. The hotel was quite large as well, with a hollow middle so you can see all the way to the ground floor from the seventh-floor hallway. It has a huge skylight in the roof. The whole hotel has been closed for this meeting and only detectives and staff are allowed in and out of this