The snow laid as rooftops glimmered, the archway was clear for miles.
Until one day a girl came across, she had blond hair and wore a red scarf above her mouth. She walked through the archway in the evening wind. No one was to be seen, the buildings were grey and all Alma could think about was getting home.
She walked down the pavement, making footprints in the snow. Suddenly she stopped, she turned to her right and to her amazement she saw hundreds and thousands of names. She couldn’t help herself she hat to write her name on that wall.
She was in the middle of writing her name when she couldn’t help but get that feeling that someone was watching her. Finishing, she turned around. There it was a doll.
She walked towards the window when finally whipping the frost off off it. Then she realised it looked like her. She looked at her clothes once more, just to be sure she looked and she jumped. It was gone.
She walked to the door hoping it was open, she pushed the handle five times but with disappointment, it wasn’t. With rage and anger she made a snowball and threw it at the door.