I submitted this for a writing competition a few months ago and it didn’t get picked so I want your opinion on if it’s good or not. So please do me a favour (pretty please) and after reading it just rate it in the comments section.
4- Very good, could use a little more work (If you pick this, please do elaborate)
3- just there
2- I don’t like it
1- Don’t pursue a career in writing (I promise not to cry)
(Kneels down and begs you to comment.)
Joyce runs from the kitchen, past the living room, and heads down the hallway into her Aunt’s bedroom and straight to the toilet. She bolts the door, stretches her legs as she backs the door so that her body acts as a barricade. “This cannot be happening”, she whispers to the toilet walls. “It can’t.” She suddenly remembers that her Aunt and her kid were in the living room. She didn’t warm them, how could she not have warned them. “I’m a terrible person”, she whispers again to the toilet walls. But it must be too late by now.
Mary wonders why she just saw her chubby niece move with such speed. She gets up and makes her way towards the bedroom, where Joyce headed, when she sees someone struggling into the kitchen.
Her adrenalin kicks in, her baby is a few feet away, she moves taking of her wrapper with one hand and grabbing Junior in another. Under normal circumstances she would have paused to appreciate her new found upper body strength, but this isn’t a normal circumstance.
Nothing is normal about this.
Someone is in her house and he’s standing just a few feet from her.
“Stop there!” The bass voice booms and echoes through her living room. It is as terrifying as the physique she turns around to see. The man is huge, clothed in pure black, his hands enveloped in gloves and his face shielded by a mask.
“There’s money” she pleads. She clings tighter to Junior as he begins to cry.
“Greetings from your husband” he says, the boom in his voice quickly followed by another from the gun.
Mary feels herself drop Junior. Her legs don’t hold her and her body falls and everywhere goes dark.
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