her short story

'The girl walked along the darkened street, struggling with her basket which made her skinny arms ache. The town was almost unnaturally silent, which made the girl nervous. Short, plump with red hair and inquisitive blue eyes, she walked with a noticeable gait, the result of a childhood illness which left a permanent limp. A few hours earlier, her sister had appeared in the doorway of her room, her face unreadeable. It’s Tuesday. Go and finish your chores. Go now. Her sister’s unusual grey eyes were wide with an emotion, and although she tried to hide it, the younger girl could see that her sister was taut with tension. Slightly bewildered at the uncomfortable emotion which made her breath catch in her throat, she had reluctantly picked up her basket, put on a dark coat, and headed out to the to fill her basket with the town’s famed berries from their berry plantation. It was a curious chore that had been added to her list a few weeks ago.
The basket was only half-full, but she reasoned that she could explain the berry bushes were empty, it was not the season for berries. Her sister would not mind if she came home a little early. She walked up the long pathway that led to her house, puffing slightly. She quickly let herself in; the impeding darkness had cast the street in shadows, which made her uneasy. Suddenly she noticed something strange. It took her awhile to realize what it was. The house was deathly silent; the gas lamps had not been lit. The silence seemed loud, and the girl’s heart started pounding erratically. Suddenly she heard a sound, somewhere in the increasing darkness of the living room. Curious, she traced its source until she came to a heavy wooden door which hid a staircase leading to the basement. The sound was strange, almost as though someone was trying the knob of the door. As she listened with unease, the sound changed to an insistent knock.
In the midst of her mounting terror, she remembered the odd decision her father had made weeks ago, to nail the doors shut. It was about the same time her berry-picking chore had been implemented. Fear had honed her senses, and the air seemed suddenly chilly as shivers crept down her spine. She desperately wanted to bolt, but suddenly she remembered her family. They could be in danger! The knocking continued, increasing in tempo. The girl ran to the mantle, where she fumbled with a match and lit a candle, and hurried back to the door. She opened it, her hands trembling. The candle lit a small area around her, but the bottom of the stairs, which led to another door, was shrouded in darkness. “Hello?” She managed to choke out, her voice sounding shrill and strained. The knocking stopped, and there was a long, pregnant pause. She descended a few steps, her nerves tingling as the candle flame flickered with the trembling of her hand. Her questing fingers found a candle holder, and she slipped the candle in. The door was blocked by thick, heavy boards, nails ruthlessly pounded in. It was covered with a strange dark marking, which looked black and forbidding. She reached out to touch the strange markings which revolted her, yet drew her.
Suddenly the knocking resumed, and she almost dropped the candle as a scream caught in her throat. Her feet turned almost involuntarily, and her whole body poised to flee. “Someone, help me please!” her sister’s voice stopped her dead in her tracks, and she turned back to the basement door, her mind shrieking at her to run. “Sis? Are you in there?” The girl started to whimper in fear as tears started to run down her face. Crying hysterically, she dropped to her knees, intent to pry open the boards with her bare hands, her nails splitting as she pried at them. Her sister’s voice continued to shriek with mindless fear and horror, screaming for help as the desperate pounding continues. Try as she might, the girl could not budge the boards, and she screamed in fear and frustration, as she herself pounded the door with bloodied fingers, tears blinding her. Her feet suddenly felt wet, and she looked down. A dark, black substance was seeping from beneath the door. She looked at it, and numbly bent down to touch it. It gleamed a dark, glistening red which told her it was blood. She fainted then.
Strong arms picked her up, and she, half-crazed with horror and worry, woke up and screamed shrilly. She turned on her attacker, fighting wildly, scratching and kicking. The dark shadow which had grabbed her was unmovable and ignored her spitfire behavior, and carried her quickly up the stairs. Light blinded the girl and she whimpered. Her wild eyes look around, fearing the terrors she might have to face. It took her a moment to recognize the pale, shocked faces of her family. At first, she could not believe it was them, and she screamed that they were demons in disguise, and she wanted her sister back, away from that terrifying basement. The girl who looked at her with wide, scared eyes was not her sister. It was the anguish in her father’s voice as they repeatedly assured her she was safe, her sister was safe, her father had carried her up from the staircase, which finally calmed her down. She broke down then, her family around her in the brightly lit living room, her entire body trembling. Later she would wonder why her sister was safe, what had happened? For now, she was safe."

yah. in case you were wondering. this is definitely not written by me. coz my short story will prob consists of wah laus' , sibos' and such.whereas my darling sister will use super long and descriptive sentences. shouldnt i be so proud of her. i wonder why she took biomed rather than eng lit or something along that line.