The Door That Stolen My Skipping Rope

The door that stole my skipping rope was there. The thing was though I couldn't see it because it was still covered in that concrete but I knew it was there. Before there'd been nothing behind it but now I was certain. Now in the center of the concrete were five clear marks as though someone had pressed their fingers into the mixture when it had still been wet. It was playing with me again but this time it wasn't looking to play with a skipping rope. This time it was daring me to put my own hand on that rough concrete to fit my fingers into the hollow spaces it had made for me and open it. When he told his parents they didn't dismiss it so quickly

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