Thursday, 25 February 2016

Creative Writing Task 3 by Clarence

     When I was a child, I well remember myself playing with my dad’s superglue. My toy car had a broken side view mirror, and I often saw my dad use superglue to fix his glasses (they were rather fragile). The next day, my dad was furious when he found out that the sofa cloth had a crease that wouldn’t undo itself. He dragged me to my room and confiscated my toy car. It was only two in the afternoon. I stretched my lips in a frown and looked up at my dad with wistful eyes. But seeing his stern face, I knew there was no turning back.
     I trudged to my room, shuffling loudly to show my displeasure. I kicked my action figures that stood in the doorway and bounced onto my bed. The smell of paint bothered me no more as I fretted and threw my pillows around. After about half an hour, I finally fell into a troubled doze.
     My eyes snapped open. The room was shrouded in darkness, except for the dim street lights that shone from outside, and the little glow-in-the-dark stars that dangled from the ceiling. A shadow flitted past the wall, and I pulled my blanket over my head, my heart skipping a beat. Then I felt a little pressure on my bed, as something hopped onto it. I heard loud, quick breaths as tiny objects placed themselves on my stomach.
     When I woke up the next morning, I found tiny drops of water on the floor, leading out of the room. With a curious heart, I stepped out of the room and followed the trail…

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