Marionettes
(Author's Note: Eyy everybody! New story! I wanted to write this like it's the jottings of a 15 year old, so excuse the less than perfect grammar. This is going to be a work in progress, so enjoy the first chapter! )
Marionettes have always creeped me the hell out. Puppets too. Don't really know why, maybe it's just the fact that they could move of their own accord, or 'cause they are ALWAYS staring at me with that stupid creepy blank stare. Crap, what was that?! Ok, just the dog at the door. Wait, wasn't it closed? Oh never mind, doesn't matter. Back to the point, I can't believe I'm writing this, and don't think I'm crazy, but I think my house is haunted. That's why I'm using this journal, to jot down what I'm going through, and my general life here at the manor. Ok, so maybe I should introduce myself, I'm Autumn Rifted, male, 15 years old, and recently moved into Rifted Manor, which I think is haunted, with my sister Silver and my dad. Mom died in a car crash. Ok I'm rambling, should probably say why I think my house is haunted. Because things, especially this marionette/puppet dragon THING that I got as a present when I moved in has been moving around when I'm not looking. Did it move again? Well I guess it's late, better leave off here, AND SIS IF YOU'RE READING THIS GET OUT OF MY STUFF! Sorry, well, night.
Autumn Rifted
*inky claw prints trail across the bottom of the page, a badly scrawled note over it*
What the note says: Is someone here? Don't leave me alone again…