The stories started off sounding spooky, but the terrable english and the way it was all written made it so uuuuuunscary! I re-typed up one of them to show you how it should be written :P
When I was only five years old, my parents moved to california to a new house. My room was small, but had a huge window that showed the woods behind the house. Parents admired it as a great view, but to a five year old girl, nothing was scarier than having a great woods in your window. I hated the dark, but my mother made me leave the lights off. I couldn’t sleep, my young imagination thinking of all sorts of things that could be lurking in the dark. I looked out of the large window, and saw a little boy in the woods. He seemed to be walking towards my window, and when he was about to walk down the hill, getting closer and closer, I jumped back into my bed and hid under the covers, scared out of my mind. The next day my mum made me meet the new neighbors, as you do when you move. So I went to say hello, and she was a lady named sarah. She lived alone and she seemed lonely. I spent alot of time with her, talking for hours, she was very nice. However, there was something about her, it was so sad, earie. That night I stayed under my covers and was fast asleep, but I awoke when i heard tapping on my window. When I looked out my window there was no one or nothing there that could of made that noise, but as I was walking back to my bed I heard the noise again, but this time when I looked I screamed. I screamed so loud that both my parents came running in. I saw the boy who was walking toward my window the night before, but when I saw his face half of it was gone. By the time my parents had reached my room, the boy had gone. “It was just a nightmare”, what five year old hadn’t heard that before? Despite their efforts to convince me it was a nightmare, I was too terrified. I slept with my parents that night and got grounded the next day for making up a story about the boy. The wouldn’t believe me, convined I was dreaming, but I knew it was no such dream. I went to visit sarah, and we talked again. I noticed this time that she had a picture of a young boy. He looked familia to me. After thinking it over, I realised he looked like the boy, no it was the boy I has seen outside my bedroom window. I asked her who the boy was and she said it was her son. She told me he had died 8 years ago in the woods when he went hunting with his father. The two were seperated and he went to try and look for his father. While searching, he came across a bear. Foolishly, he tried to shoot it, and his shot missed. The bear was on him within seconds, biting at him. The bear had torn half of his face off. The father had found the bear and shot it, but he was too late. The boy in my window, the boy with only half a face, he died that day by having half of his face eaten.
by Minue
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