My eyes scanned the ground, slowly combing over every detail. Every blade of grass, every rise or dip from the uneven ground, every loose rock; it was near perfection. Not the straight, uniform perfection that was man-made, naturally perfect, such a feat no one has been able to achieve. My eyes kept moving, over some roots silently curving out of the ground, up to the tree. A tall oak, in between thick and thin, sturdy but slightly leaning, nature's craft. Around its trunk were most of its fallen leaves, enough to make one think they all fell off, even though it was spring. My vision slowly climbed up the tree, taking in the varying shape, color, and texture of its bark. Its branches slowly came in like twigs and giant wooden limbs the same, dotted lightly with a few of the strongest leaves. Sitting on the ground, I looked up at the top, where it hung, thrashing as if in pain; my body.
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HorrorSo this is the first time I wrote a horror story, I think I did pretty well though.
