There were less than 24 agonising hours to go until the terrorising ordeal. As I got home from school I couldn’t think straight with the ordeal edging closer and closer, for every second that ticked by my heart beat became faster and faster. That night I hardly slept a wink, I was trembling all night, thoughts flowing through my head about the stranger, the possible mass murderer I was about to have to meet.
The next dreadful morning came, the smell of death awakened me, I was dreading the torture I had to go through, which was now less than two and a half hours away. I got out of my bed, my trembling knees just managed to carry me to the bathroom to have a wash and clean my teeth. With every foreboding foot step I took down the stairs came a stronger and stronger smell of toast. Once I got to the bottom of the never ending staircase, I headed for the kitchen table where lay a plate of delicious breakfast.
As I bit into the delicious toast another thought slowly floated into my head, that this could be my last taste of freedom. Once I had finished the last taste of heaven, I dragged myself up the never ending staircase, the further I got the darker it got, and finally there was light at the end of the tunnel. I went into my bedroom to get prepared with everything I needed for the deadly experience. My mother said ‘Are you ready Because we are late! ‘
As I stumbled down the stairs the front door swung open, my mother shouted ‘hurry up!! ‘ As I walked out of the door a tear trickled down my face, thinking that it could be the last time I ever see the house. I got in the car and started my agonising journey to the death bed. Once on route my mother said that I would pay for all the things I have done wrong. Once I had got to my final destination I said to myself here goes nothing, as I was about to face my worst fears.
As I got out of the car a child came running out of the building crying hysterically, having just run away mid way through the trauma I was about to face. As I entered the building there were just plain grey walls with only a few posters on saying what not to do. As I sat down in the cold, plain room thoughts came in and out of my head about the little kid that had just run out crying, I was trying to think of the terrible, deadly experience he has just escaped from.