I wrote this story when I was 11 years old. I stumbled across the old faded pencil copy as I was cleaning my room. I haven't edited any part of it, except to put a few paragraphs where I thought my original one weren't enough so it'd be easier to read.
It represents so much of the beauty and simplicity of children, of their little ways and the way they see the world. The seemingly 'melodramatics' of children are shown quite innocently here...I doubt I could write something quite so true to a child's nature again. I think, with a bit of editing (some of the words I chose aren't quite accurate!) it could be a very cute Halloween story for children.
