Creative writing
As I approached the old rusty gates I could feel my heart beating in my chest as though it wanted to get out. My body was shaking and my muscles pulled tight. I pushed open the gates with all my strength and they made a high pitched creak. I started to panic; I could hear a howl in the distance which sent a chill down my spine and my heart now started thumping. My hands started to shake and my palms were sweating. The cold bitter wind brushed against my face and my eyes started to water.
I walked towards the intimidating house avoiding the graves which lurked up at me. I walked straight forward not looking down as I desperately wanted to get away from the bleak, black night. I opened the big pine doors which stood there conspicuously looking at me with its eye patterns of carved wood. I had entered a room; it wasn’t just any room. The walls were covered with silver armour and had dark burgundy curtains draping from them. There were beautifully crafted chandeliers which hung over my head. The floor was covered with mosaic patterned tiles which consisted of many colours. I stood there astounded by this room which provided me with such fulfillment. I was feeling more relaxed now, my heart was not beating violently anymore. The room had a welcoming feeling to it.