I’m ENGLISH. It’s spelt right, trust me.

1.THE BOY.

I was walking home at night, the lamps around me flickering, my breath steaming ahead of me. I turned to walk through the park. It was autumn, so all of the trees were a honey golden colour. Occasionally, a drop of honey would fall off the tree, and make a crunching noise under my feet, which were bare, my toes painted black. I was wearing a pair of black denim jeans, and a neon green t-shirt with a black glittered skull on it, and lots of silver bangles that clanked as I walked along, sounding like wind chimes. One of the lights blew a bulb behind me, and my heart picked up pace. So did my feet.

I was completely overwhelmed by a sense of intense fear, as I saw that the gate was locked, and on the other side, was a lifeless me on the floor. I pulled at the gate noisily. I tried to scream, but my breath was cut short, as I heard a hiss behind me. I slowly turned, the tears trickling down my cheeks, and on to the cold, concrete ground. There was nothing there though; there was nothing there at all. I started to hyperventilate then, and decided that it would be best if I went back out the other side, and went round the long way. I sprinted, my eyes darting back and forth from tree to tree, just in case anything was lurking there.

The other gate was now locked, too, and it seemed to be becoming colder by the minute, my breath becoming clearer, the park’s lights blowing out one by one, the glass around the bulbs shattering. I sat down, holding my knees, sobbing quietly. I heard another hiss. When I looked around, I saw a tall, lean figure standing near a bench. I could not see properly, only the light of the moon and stars enabling me to see at all. As I cautiously walked closer, he said my name. I froze. It was definitely a boy, no older than seventeen with black hair – covering half of his, strange, red, and catlike eyes. He hissed once more. His tongue was thin and pointed his teeth sharp.
Then, he pounced.

I awoke on a pile of black ashes. I sat up, my head spinning. What had happened? I wasn’t supposed to be here. I had heard about this place. It used to be full of mortals, until one fallen angel, vampires, and wolves had wiped out a small quantity of the human race (up to now). Even children. I looked up to the sky, which was full of black snow. I knew better than to think it was just snow. The little fragments swirling in the wind were ashes, and the scarlet liquid on the floor, was blood.

I’m moving to my first apartment which is on ground level. We have a fairly large patio blocked off with a four foot wall. How can I keep my cat from jumping the wall? I’ve thought about putting potted plants on the wall, but in the autumn we get strong winds which might knock them over.
I should mention that the wall is made out of some concrete material, not wood.

Is it possible to write a book bettet than harry potter? I’m 13 and have been writing since seven , and want to write a book that’l be more magical than harry potter. If i use my imagitnation is this possible? now enter my world…rate the part of my story out of 10 please.

An eerie silence lay across the neatly kept houses on Glamestone Lane. Trees were slowly losing their leaves. Bundles of them had already been piled into heaps. The days of autumn were drawing close to an end. The air had already changed from its mild temperature to chilly and cold, signalling the departure of autumn and the nearing winter.

The residents were people who believed in punctuality and neatness. Cars faced in line towards the houses. Gardens were well furnished, with ornaments such as gnomes placed beside the doors. It could have been a perfect street, had it not been a gloomy looking house hiding in the far end of the road, beside an alley way.

The tangled vines slowly spread its way around the walls of the house. The windows were covered with thick curtains. The plate bearing fifteen Glamestone Lane was half covered by the overgrowing plants.