7th November 1997
I always wondered what made a person tick, what their life long want was, and their passion for life. And as I looked up and saw the fire in that man�s eyes, it burned through the next ones, it gave me cold chills up and down my spine. No one knew there was a murderer present, except me. Once he looked into my pale blue eyes, they weren�t pale anymore. My legs trembled, my heard ached to beat. For I knew I was his next target, he knows, I know.
The air was getting thinner, it hurt to breathe. I grabbed my chest and tried to make my way to the door, collapsing over every being. He picked up his gun and I jiggled the handle. Locked. I feared my life was now over�
Then I woke up, �A nightmare,� I told myself. I looked out the window and saw the murderer�s eyes burn through me like fire. They pierced me, and I blink. I curse myself for opening them. And there he was, standing at the foot of my bed. I screamed for dear life. For I knew it was all over�
(I had to write this as a "creative writing" thing in grade 10.)
