It was a/an empty and stormy crate. Mom alone in the woods, shivering in her abrasive dress, trying to find her way home. Suddenly she tripped over something short on the ground. She took a closer look and discovered it was a/an psychotic tombstone! She was obviously in the middle of a/an writer-yard. Overcome by fear and struggling to stand up, she heard a/an ashamed noise behind her. Someone or something was moving mostly toward her. She spun around to get a better look and saw a/an flawless shadow moving past her. As the foggy figure came closer, she felt a cold lip touch her arm. Shaking free, she ran out of the amusing cemetery as fast as her eyes could take her, never once looking back.
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This gave me beetlejuice vibes because of the short psychotic grave and the lip on her arm. I'll make another soon.
