The house at the end of Brockdale lane was always considered tainted by the citizens of Stonebrook.
The solid stone structure standing sentinel on the corner, shaded by the almighty Chotterly Forest daring all that walk by to approach it; but nobody ever did.
This smear of grey scarred the lanes beauty like a battle wound grown old. All It's windows are cracked and its front lawn is dead. The roof slates fall to the ground inconsistently , loosened by centuries of lack of toil.
A swirl of every colour suddenly encloses the world. Somebody is screaming, the same shrill shriek every second.
Sitting upright in bed now, cold sweat sticking my clothes to my aching back.
As i turned off my alarm i thought 'How can dreams become such real things If they hold no relevance?'
No relevance...
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Any feedback regarding my writing would be most humbly appreciated. =] I attend sixth form and maintain a dull part time job to keep my tastes and persona funded. I love writing but I never have the time to sit down and write a full blown book... I'm hoping this app will help me achieve that goal as I'm forever on my phone and there's always an extra 15 minutes I can use to write. =]
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