It was a cold winter. The rain and snow fell on the ground and made a freezing mist. In the dreary evening, the cold wind made a frightening sound, and the leaves on the trees swayed in the wind. Cindy ambled to the backyard to take out the trash, only wearing a thin nightgown and slippers.
The backyard was empty except for an old lamp. The silence was eerie.
Cindy’s hands were pale from the cold and her whole body shivered. She walked slowly and felt a chill upon her.
“It is so cold,” she thought. “It is better to stay at home in the evening.”
Suddenly, she stepped on a handstone and nearly slipped. Although the handstone was small, it was pretty obvious since it was different from other stones. The shape of the stone was strange. It had many edges and there was a nick at the top of the stone. The shimmering light stretched the shadow of the stone very long.
“Oh, that was close,” She whispered softly, terrified.
Cindy kicked the handstone aside. It thumped against the wall. She took no notice and continued walking.
She put the trash in the can.
When she was about to march back, she spotted a flash of a black shadow from the corner of her eye. She also found another handstone rolling past her.
This surprised her. She does not believe the stone can move by itself. But who is behind her? Why does someone keep rolling the stone? There was an uneasy feeling in her heart. She suddenly felt that this was an ominous omen.
“It will be fine after I leave the backyard,” she comforted herself. “I will never walk into the backyard in the gloomy weather again.”
But before she reached the house, a voice came from a corner of the backyard where she saw the shadow.
“D-O N-O-T M-O-V-E…” This voice was hoarse. The sounds seemed to be coming from far away, but it could be heard clearly. The sound was trembling with the sounds of the cold wind.
Another handstone shot out of the darkness. The handstone was rolling out from where the shadow was and hit Cindy in the back. This stone rolled quickly with a popping noise.
It hit Cindy like a bullet in the back. She screamed and fell over like a fallen tree trunk. She lay splayed on the grass, silent. Her face was as pale and white as paper.
The shadow flew out of the darkness. It was a person, with a black yarn, and a flash that could have been eyes, a black bag hung at its side.
The moon was bright and the old lamp glowed dimly.
The next day, Cindy was gone.