I've decided to share my innocent and now somewhat embarrassing first attempts at writing. I've always had a vivid imagination but didn't take pen to paper until middle school through to high school.
We're all newbies at some point. Actually, we're always newbies as there is always some new to learn.
DEATH COMES AT MIDNIGHT
The figure moved through the trees slowly with the ease of a snake crawling through the grass. The shadow of the figure was dark with an outline of the cloak around its neck flowing through the night air.
The air had the smell of death within it. The clouds were dark and eerie as they closed in over the silent moon. The trees were half dead with no leaves hanging on the out stretched, spidery branches. The wind was whistling through those dead trees which hung over black, dark muddy water.
Rain began to fall with thunder banging and lightening flashing through the gruesome black night. This is the perfect night for a murder, not a soul in sight only the victim and the killer.
The clock struck midnight. There in the bush, a body lay. The face a ghostly white. Two small holes in its neck, no blood is in this body. Death has come and has taken its kill.