3.3 Creative Writing

Public Library

The trees hung over me as my feet dragged me forward. The rain hit hard on the ground beneath me. The fog made it impossible for me to see where I was going. I continued walking ahead. Each step I took made the rain get louder and heavier.

The journey to the library felt much longer than usual. I go there almost every day after school but today, for some bizarre reason, the route looked and felt different. In the far distance I could see a shadow approaching me. Just a shadow though, I thought. I took two deep breaths to relax myself. I wasn’t sure what the shadow was at first, but it sort of had the outline of a person. My heart was racing, it felt as if it was about to come out of my chest. I closed my eyes for 2 seconds and the shadow vanished into thin air. I felt a little relieved but still the fear wasn’t gone. I didn’t want to go any further but my feet were uncontrollable now. They had a mind of their own.

When I finally arrived, the library looked completely ancient. It was dark and old. Vines hung from the sides and the howling of the wind was ten times louder than it was before. I stood like a statue in front of the rusty gates. They creaked and slowly opened for me. The trees were giants in front of me and crows watched over me. This wasn’t the library I go to everyday, I thought. It looked haunted. I didn’t dare to step inside but my feet pulled me forward each second. I swallowed the lump that had built up in my throat and took my first step inside.

My eyes widened in disbelief. I took a deep breath. An ice cold shiver ran down my spine as the door behind me shut. Dark and ancient, exactly what I was expecting. My fear rapidly transformed into devastation. There was nothing in the room apart from a chair covered in a red cloth and a candle. Voices whispered, “Sit Down…sit down…”

I didn’t want to sit down or do anything that this voice was instructing me to do. But this place had some kind of power and could make me do whatever it wanted me to do, like I was its puppet. So without having a choice, I sat down on the chair and opened my school bag. I got out my diary and began writing.


‘Friday 13th 2009
Dear Diary…