Peter was once a happy child. But that all changed once he met the wolf.
PAIN. THAT'S ALL PETER COULD FEEL. Stabbing needles in his arms, legs, everywhere. Cold drops of water pelted Peter's face, but he ignored that. What's the difference a little ammonia would make if he was already going to die. He remembered little. A wolf with blue eyes, offering more than this world could ever provide. And he agreed. What a fool he was, to trust a talking wolf. Witch craft and wizardry is what his Pa would call it. "The world out there is horrible Peter. Conivin' people they are. All trying to get something outta' ya'. That's why I ain't leaving this home. That's why I built this fence," Pa said, smacking the scraps of metal and wood put together to make the insecure wall. "And if you know any betta' you'll stay 'ight here the resta yo' life ta'." Pa never was a social person Peter always thought. Kept me behind that wall for my whole life. And when I finally leave, I get attacked and killed… Killed? Does that mean I'm dead right now? Probably. I have nothin' else. So what's the point of living? There is none. Peter finally let the cool darkness of unconsciousness take over his body.
This was my third attempt at writing a story and I want to know if I should take it seriously, so if you could please review for me? I will continue with this story if I get good reviews! :D Bye.