One dark night, as I was returning from a friend's house, I heard footsteps behind me. At first I ignored thinking they belong to another lonely person like me, hurrying to get home, I thought of the warm fireside and my mother waiting for me with a hot dinner.
Suddenly my foot knocked against a large stone and I tripped. My books fell on the road and I found myself sprawled face downwards. Cursing my clumsiness I stumbled to my feet and rubbed my knees. As I went to pick up my books I suddenly realized that there was no sound behind me. Whoever had been there had either stopped walking or disappeared. I found it odd that he had not come running to my help when I had fallen down.
I looked back but there was only the long stretch of road. No living being was in sight. I shrugged my shoulders and started on my way. I was not far from my home. Already , I could see the light of the front porch. Imagine my horror, therefore, that as soon as I started walking I heard the footsteps again. I couldn't believe my ears and I began to feel really and truly scared. Every horror story I had ever read, swam before my eyes and my hair stood on the end. A shiver ran down my spine and I began to run.
Too terror-stricken to look back, my only thought was to reach my mother's safe arms.
It was only on the next day that I heard the story of how a 10 year old girl while returning from her friend's house that night, had been run over by a speeding car on that very road.
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