I walked softly through the wooded area. It was dark. Only the light from a three-quarter moon shone through the darkness. I tried to be quiet as I made my getaway, but the parched, fall leaves crunched under my feet. Paranoid that I was being followed, I hid behind trees along my path and glanced behind me. No one was there.
I had to find a house, a road, or anyplace where someone could help me. A cool breeze tickled my skin and goosebumps rose all over my body. The temperature was dropping and the scent of rain hung in on the night air. I was cold, hungry, scared, and if I didn’t find someone soon, wet.
Just as sprinkles dampened my skin, I saw a blurry glare through the trees ahead. I headed toward the light, and found a small house with a bright porch light. I ran up to the door and knocked. No one answered. Warm tears slid down my cheeks. I tasted their saltiness on my lips. Frantically, I beat on the door. Screaming, “Help! Please, I need help.”
A round little woman came to the door; she opened it only as far as the chain allowed. I took a step back so she could see that I was just a young girl. I heard voices inside.
“Martin, it’s a little girl. She’s only wearing her skivvies. “
Tommy dove into the ocean with the hope of catching the infamous, striped tiger-fish with whiskers three feet long. He swam deep into the salty waters, dodging the gigantic octopus, and avoiding its deadly stream of ink. He swam past the coral reefs, schools of fish, and the electric eel in search of his prize.
Finally, he heard the cry of the tiger-fish and spotted his prey gliding through the water unaware of Tommy’s presence. He had to approach quickly or spoil his chance of capture. As he slowly swam closer with his net ready, he smelled the stench of rotting fish, a sign that danger nearby. He turned just in time to see a great white shark barreled toward him. The killer fish’s mouth was open and his teeth stained with blood from his last meal.