That house on the hill
The night was black, the trees swayed; there were no people to be seen. Upon the hill, laid a house but not any old house, a house which was damaged. Everyone hated that house. No one would dare go near that house.
Until one day a boy, who was only twelve walked onto the land.
He jumped over the barbed fence and walked to the front door, still obnoxious to the fact he was wearing a banana yellow. He carried a heavy crowbar to break into the house.
“BANG, CRASH, THUMP!” His head turned. Now he was scared.