Rough Draft Short Story

I had destroyed the majestic carpet, it was shattered in pieces while I heard a mournful scream racing around the room, the master exasperatedly grabbed my leg and ruthlessly swung me across the room into the tomb as I went into survival mode. The tomb was an old filthy cistern, buried under the court with a slippery stairway leading up to the rusty iron door covered with vines. There was no light down there besides the sun rays that managed to brutally flash through the cracks and holes. The tomb had very little air, you nearly suffocated. It feels like someone is grabbing your throat and squeezing it. When you become itchy you have the desire to itch yourself, but that just makes things worse as the blisters on your hand become jaded.

While strange shapes would show, and so would colors, I began to get dizzy, trying to avoid the terrifying spiders and what was said to be vicious scorpions and snakes, I became hopeless not able to hold my imagination and not knowing what was reality, I became hungry. I became so hungry that I began to eat the baby spiders crawling up my throbbing leg and as the day became longer the more I became lonelier not knowing what the future would hold for me. As the night grew darker so did the noise and creaking I heard, not knowing where the mysterious noise had come from I became severally frightened. While wishing my peers were here to comfort me, I began to think about how enraged they must be with me for shattering the majestic carpet. Soon I began to doubt the forgiveness of my peers. Instantly I began to feel ashamed, assuming they had forgotten about me, I began to feel