By Max Callaghan - Year 10, St Peter's College
It was late. He was tired. But still he ran.
The abominations chased him with their shadows stretching and twisting in all kinds of inhuman ways.
Salty sweat poured from his face as he turned forward to concentrate on fleeing.
Only moments later, he could feel the darkness reaching into him and gripping at the remains of his courage.
He smelt of fear.
Following the sinking path to his darkened house, he dashed to the door, panicked and fumbling with the lock.
He could feel the creatures silently screaming, sliding directly towards him.
He could imagine their faces twisting and twitching into alien shapes, their broken mouths feeding on his terror.
He threw the door open as the stubborn lock conceded to his struggle, slamming it shut almost the instant he was in.
He sat down, took a deep breath and closed his eyes with a sigh of relief.
He heard a quiet screech and realised his mistake.
Opening his eyes slowly, he could see figures standing in front of him, darker than the shadow.
He reached up and his fingers sprawled over the wall, searching for the switch.
Finding the smooth lump of plastic, he quickly swiped it down.
On came the lights and with them the shadows disappeared.
The room felt at once warm and inviting.
He turned back to the door and peered outside, scanning for the beings that had chased him.
The tranquil street stared blankly back at him with bright white lamps, empty and pale.
It was late. He was tired.
But still he stayed awake.
