A story that we had to write in english class, just to get the Romantic or Gothic feel. If you like it, add on, or tell me and i will try my best to continue. :)
I arrived minutes before I was suppose to, a storm was brewing, and my car was just about out of gas. Lightning could be seen off in the distance, the wind was picking up rapidly, coming right at me as I open my car door. The wind sends my hair around my head like a tornado, blocking out most of my vision. I struggle to move away from my car, the wind so strong it causes the door to close on my leg. When I finally get away the door is slammed shut, almost catching my cardigan in the process.
I stand there, still in the wind, hugging my cardigan around my body for as much warmth as I can get. It's really cold for a day in early August. The lake is going crazy, white caps everywhere, I turn to look at the cabin, I see the lights are on, this shocks me. He had said he wouldn't be here until an hour later, and to add to my shock, I don't see his car anywhere. Who's in there? I think to myself.
I walk up to the cabin door, checking to see if it's locked, when I confirm that it is, I begin to get nervous. I pull out my keys and slide one in to the lock, surprised that I am relieved, when all the evidence should keep me from that feeling. The door creaks open, I laugh to my self wondering just how old his family cabin is. I don't see any of his things, who's in here? I catch myself thinking again.
"Ian? Are you in here?" I call out his names multiple more times, with no reply to any of them. Then I smell something, it's burnt wood, mixed with something that smells really out of place. I turn to see the gas stove running. What the hell? I walk over to turn it off, call his name one more time, then I hear something in the other room.