Lilly sat at the local polish club. Smoke filled the dark, dark room. Her best friend Paul sat next to her.

He wathced her read thourgh her notebook. Getting ready to read to read her story aloud. He watched her read over the first page, than flip the page.

He had a crush on her. He always had. He couldn't say it. She, in his mind, was to good for her. She was a sweet, all american girl. He was voted most likely to sit in front of the neighborhood BP.

She had the writing talent to King, Twin,and Dickson. He could write ten words for the life of him.

He turned his attion to the five year old reading her story about her dead dog.

"Gilly may be gone,

but silly me,

she will always

be right hear with me!''

The little girl walked off the stage to a waiting mothers arms. Who was the local

Mortician. The Mother smiled and walked her daughter away.

                   Lily walked up to the stage and smiled. Paul clapped.

"So, the name of my story Dead. It's a horror story." The mother of the five year old looked Lilly in the eyes and took the girl to the bar to order a drink.

Lilly begin to read the words filled her ears, her lips and most of all, the room.

When she was done she smiled. She know that she was going to win.

Paul, was smiling bigger than her.

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