Creative writing - The Warehouse.
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Jessica Scales Hinde House School Sheffield 36592 The Warehouse It was silent as if a murder hung in the air. The only noise was the creaking of the burnt metal of the caravan, wafting in the breeze. I froze; the image of what had happened the night before freaked me out. It had been burgled in the night then torched. Who knows if any one was in there asleep, dreaming their last dream. I froze again; maybe I should stay in tonight. No I couldn't be a wimp I had to go. I carried on; mist started settling at my feet. I squinted trying to see. The cold wind bit at the bare flesh of my nose and face. I jolted around; I heard a faint ghostly like scream. I was positive I did. I caught up speed thinking that something was following me. I began jogging, almost...


