Finding your passion

I remember using my computer as a gaming platform and nothing else. It had Microsoft Word on it, but I didn’t have much to write, and Pascal programming language, but I didn’t know how to program. So…

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Expect the unexpected

I am telling this story after this incident has already happen.

Shery is walking along the lonely road with a pale blue umbrella. taking me with her, in a hypnotic daze I literally flow on. My feet in not touching the ground. It is pelting with rain. There is no sound except the sloshing of feet on water, the regular drip drip drip of the rain and the faint low voice the very very low voice calling Shery towards the old park. Shery went on and on. Slush, Slush,Slush. You might feel the whole atmosphere to be creepy, and some of you might be turning away from the story. Shery felt the same. Shery stopped but the sound continued. There was nobody except Shery. Nothing except street lamps.

Shery couldn’t stop for long. The voice compelled her to walk in it’s direction. It was as if only her senses were in her control, and her body seemed to be controlled by an external and mysterious force.

Now she was inside the park. A gale was blowing. The forgotten park, the feared park. With tall mysterious trees growing everywhere, ill cared for with dried leaves all over the place and everything grey, black or white due to age and negligence with dead and wither flowers. Everything looked dead It looked more like a symmetry than a park. Shery sat on a lone grey bench near the trees. She felt her body go rigid. She saw the house……

The next morning newspaper’s headlines told mainly about the three dead people. Mr. Wollf, Shery and me…..

(This is the story we wrote in the intra-class writing competition we organised.)

Plot by me

Editing by Diya.

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