Board Thread:Writer's Workshop/@comment-24946232-20140627215251

My brother and I are currently working together on a Pasta. We would really appreciate some feedback on what we have so far:

I'm 13 years old now but I was 7 years young when it happened. Every night i wake up in a sticky sweat thinking about the chicken.

My Mum's friend from pilates went on holiday to the Vatican City so she asked my mum to care for her flock of chickens while she was away. We set up a coop outside for the hens. I was very excited for the arrival of the birds; so blissfully unaware of the terror in store for me.

On the morning, following the first night of our guest's stay, we awoke to a coop empty all but for one single hen. My Mum called her pilates friend later that day telling the awful news of her chicken's mysterious dissaperance. They agreed that it must of been foxes, but that night I heard my parents talking downstairs: My dad was saying that it couldn't have been foxes as there was no blood, feathers or indicators of a struggle. As

I heard these words I gazed out of my bedroom window to the garden below. From within the coop, I saw the lone chicken... it was dark; but it seemed like that bird was staring right at me. Staring right into my very soul...

For the next few days it seemed the chicken was very content. We realized, however, that the bird did not eat any of the feed we gave it. She spent most of her time standing in her coop gazing towards our house, As the week progressed I felt uneasy looking out my bedroom window.

I think it was on a Saturday, it was especially hot that night so I left my window open before slipping into bed. My Mum came and kissed me goodnight before turning out the light and submerging the room in darkness. As I began to drift to sleep; I was jerked awake by a sudden soft weight on my chest. I looked down and saw the shadowy bulbous outline of a hen. I closed my eyes in disbelief of the chicken being in my room. As I did this I felt a shift of weight on my chest. It became difficult to breath. All of the air was being pushed out of me. I opened my eyes again: the neat, small form of the chicken was gone, replaced by a form that filled my field of vision. In the murky darkness I could make out a wrinkley, pale and spindlely torso. My whole body tensed with fear. 