Snow drifted down from the sky like condensation falling down a window. Alma ran through the snowy archway and into the frosty town. It looked like a desert of snow: rooftops were blanketed in snow and cobbled streets were lined with frost. The street was deserted except Alma.

She passed a wall covered in old newspapers. Passing the old shop she went over to the obsidian coloured blackboard and examined the other names. She chalked her name on amongst the others when something caught her eye. A doll. It was in the old shop window.

Alma walked slowly towards the doll, snow crunching beneath her feet. She wiped the cold frosty glass. The doll had slightly curly blonde hair and a red coat. It had brown trousers. It was exactly the same as her.  Alma bent down to determine whether the  match was genuinely exact and when she came back up the doll was gone. She couldn’t see it anywhere

The little girl went over to the door. It wouldn’t open. Frustrated, she thew a snowball at the door and turned away. Then the door opened slowly and creakily.

She walked into the shop and saw the doll on a triangular table. She went over to it  but tripped on something. It was a boy doll on a tricycle. Alma straitened it and it drove off.  When she looked up  the doll replica of her was gone. She couldn’t see it any where. She spotted it; it was on a shelf at the back of the shop. Alma climbed the shelf and took her glove off. As she touched the nose of the doll there was a blinding flash of light and then she was gone! The doll’s eyes moved. She had become the doll. To her horror, she saw another doll appear. “It must be the next victim” She thought.

                                                                                                       THE END