The leaves on the ground were crisp, the colour slowly draining from the lifeless cells. Rain pitter-pattered along them and the worn ground of the woods. The clouds could be seen from beneath the almost leafless trees, gray and foreboding in the near distance. The chirps of birds could just barely be heard above the rain drops. A peaceful getaway for those quiet; a jail cell for those loud.
And then blood blended with the rain, and a scream destroyed the quiet.
YOU ARE READING
Whispers
Teen FictionLife isn't all sunshine and roses, but no one wants to believe that in this sleepy town.
