Homework.
Creative writing.
Must be in 1st person.
Must be present tense.
Thanks to the people who answered my questions earlier, it helped a lot.
There's more, I just haven`t finished it yet.
Corrections are appreciated
Climbing into the dark cavern that is our garage, I shiver. The temperature of the room has decreased dramatically since day time. The last bit of light that had illuminated the room moments before has sunk beneath the windows, allowing darkness to creep in.
Silky cobwebs that hang in inconvenient places brush against uncovered areas of my body. My fingers knot together with the threads. They are no longer thin and fragile, instead they have layered so it is difficult to move my fingers. Along with the cobwebs there is a thick layer of dust on my hands from touching the walls in the room to guide myself about through the darkness. I struggle to breathe... the air is damp, but also dry. The dust clogs up my throat. I hack and cough quietly so I don't wake my parents.
At the window there is a faint silhouette of a tree; the branches banging against the window. Tapping like fingers.
Other trees, manipulated by the wind, scrape across the corrugated iron roofing. Rain from outside pounds down on the metal noisily. The wind howls.
Creative writing.
Must be in 1st person.
Must be present tense.
Thanks to the people who answered my questions earlier, it helped a lot.
There's more, I just haven`t finished it yet.
Corrections are appreciated
Climbing into the dark cavern that is our garage, I shiver. The temperature of the room has decreased dramatically since day time. The last bit of light that had illuminated the room moments before has sunk beneath the windows, allowing darkness to creep in.
Silky cobwebs that hang in inconvenient places brush against uncovered areas of my body. My fingers knot together with the threads. They are no longer thin and fragile, instead they have layered so it is difficult to move my fingers. Along with the cobwebs there is a thick layer of dust on my hands from touching the walls in the room to guide myself about through the darkness. I struggle to breathe... the air is damp, but also dry. The dust clogs up my throat. I hack and cough quietly so I don't wake my parents.
At the window there is a faint silhouette of a tree; the branches banging against the window. Tapping like fingers.
Other trees, manipulated by the wind, scrape across the corrugated iron roofing. Rain from outside pounds down on the metal noisily. The wind howls.