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Runaway

The town was silent. Dorothy skipped along the yellow brick road, her muddy footsteps landing one by one on the cold mustard ground. She caught a glimpse of her: The witch. Discreetly, her shaking hands removed her weapon from the puppy's basket, the bright blue blanket covering a long piece of wood with a sharp arrow tightly attached. The shot broke the quietness of the land. Pools of crimson formed around the daisies, the sky turned grey. Dead. Dorothy smiled and knew she had one thing to do - plan her escape. Nobody was safe in the land of Oz - nobody.

by Natasha Turnell (12)
Trinity Catholic High School, Woodford Green


Competition - Grim Tales

Copyright remains with the author.