In The Lake

I opened my eyes an inch and another inch. It was all clear. The lights were off and dad was snoring. Then I grabbed my gumboots and pulled my coat on. I crept down the stairs running my hand along the bumpy surface. I wrenched open the door, as I walked outside moonlight showered over me like a guardian angel. But I didn’t have much time I needed to reach the lake. Then I saw its shining surface staring at me. I planted the gumboots into the surface. Perfect, now they would think it was me. I started to run. . .

By Evie Richardson