The Whistle

this is a short story i made a while ago but thought i should share it with you guys
enjoy :)

The man whistled just like any normal person might, but the strange thing about this was he went so slow past my house and as I glanced out the window he fixated his gloomy eyes on me. That night it was unbearable hearing the slightest high pitched noise in my surroundings, and when it came to going to bed it was like someone had recorded that terrible sound because as I tucked myself in for the night I tried to go to sleep but just as I nodded off I heard that very same whistle, it sent a shiver down my back I leaped out of bed and dived for the window but when I went to look the only human thing I seen was a man’s extremely long shadow curve round the bend, that night I did not get any sleep.

The next day I had no thoughts about the man it had just slipped my mind, but it all started again when I was on the way to school listening to some music when all of a sudden I heard that very whistle again, normally nothing goes over the sound of my music but the whistle did. This time it was just a bird but that bird put the horrid thought of the man back in my head, nothing was normal that day after the bird I couldn’t concentrate on anything, English I wrote a story about a butterfly that ended with a bird, in art I drew a bird instead of a butterfly. I suppose today just wasn't my good day well that’s what I told myself.

I worried for the next couple day’s wondering whether I should tell someone or tell me self to forget it I was just being patronised but the more I thought about it the more I thought I wasn’t being patronised.

Weeks went by with no whistle and no bird until the other week, I was walking home and I decided to go under the tunnel but it was a dark and gloomy night so I couldn't see any one faces, and that’s when I heard it right behind me, I tried to walk a bit faster but It was no hope, he caught up to me grabbed me and ran extremely fast to his van. I can’t remember what happened next, but once I woke up the next thing I remember was the man was starring right at me, for the next hour I was beaten in many ways so the next time you hear that high pitched whistle lock the doors and try to live the night.

 

By Caroline