2 Creative writing

She looked down at her hands. Then her feet. Then her clothes. Why was she so small?

Amy had gone to bed that night as a 13-year-old girl, yet in her dream she was tiny again. She had not worn these clothes since she was 2 years old! What was going on?

She had been to this place before, she was certain. It all seemed familiar. Carrying the metal lantern in her fingertips, she waddled slowly through the night, not being able to see further than a few feet in front of her due to the thick wisps of fog that blanketed her vision.

Feeling the warm breeze caress her face, Amy inhaled. The air smelled damp, like it had just finished raining, but she couldn’t remember it having done so. Lanterns, as big as post boxes, swayed in the wind, shedding a feeble, hazy glow across the never-ending blackness.

She shivered. Something was wrong. Surely dreams couldn’t feel this real?

As I kept walking forwards I noticed that the lanterns were getting bigger and bigger. And when I looked up all I could was fog and lanterns on top of me. I was worried if one lantern would Just fall on me and squish me so I was looking up to see if there were any lanterns on top of me. As I I kept walking I went to the edge of the  bridge and looked down. I saw spiky rocks and fog in between them. But then all of a sudden the fog got thicker and I could hardly see anything.

AAAAHHH then my mom woke me up. I was startled.

Guess that was just a dream. Fewwwww. 

We had to finish the storey .