Board Thread:Writer's Workshop/@comment-25365080-20151229161527

Hi! It's been quite a while since I last posted a story on this wiki, and I regret to say that my English might be getting a little rusty. So if anyone could kindly proofread this micro pasta for me, and give me some suggestions about the story itself, I'll be most grateful :)

--OCEANGREEN

"Wow."I stared aghast at the parading crowd. "Wow."

It was my first Halloween in the United States. Yes, I'd heard others talk about it--a day when everyone dresses up as monsters and go bump in the night. I had taken it as a joke, thinking that nobody would want to make himself look like a man-eating abomination.

But I was wrong.

I gazed in fascination as the Devil, with his twisted horns and grotesque countenance, walked across the bustling street in long strides, slashing aimlessly at the air with a blood-stained sword. A zombie shambled right behind him on crippled legs, moaning and drooling hungrily from the rotten, toothless hole in its face which might have been a mouth.

A huge, hairy arm pushed the zombie aside before it could protest, and now a tall figure covered in black fur appeared. I could barely make out the creature's expression, but its hooked talons and protruding tusks spoke clearly of its deadliness.

As horrible a sight as it was, the vitality of the scene attracted me. I wanted to join them--to be a part of this exciting parade. Of course, I had no costume; but who cares? Some say that life is all about participation; and here it is: something even an outsider like me could take part in.

Caught in a moment's madness, I parted the thick bushes before me with my arms, and walked onto the street. The air seemed to freeze at that very moment.

The Devil's mask slid from his face, revealing a young girl in her early 20s. Her pale face was frozen in a rictus of fear, and her piercing scream hurt my ears like hot needles. The zombie was nowhere to be found--it seemed that his deformed legs work better than they seemed, after all.

I turned in wonder towards the hairy creature. The furry headgear which had obscured the men's face only moments ago now rests beneath his arm, and the way he was looking at me was unbearable--a perfect combination of fear and loathing.

I saw some young men bending down for pebbles, and I ran before the stones started to fly.

I ran until their screams and shouts were behind me. I ran until the voices of man disappeared from my ears, and the soothing darkness of the forest embraced me with all its tenderness.

There I sat down beneath the oldest tree, and buried my face in my long, twisted claws. 