The Boy Who Ran Home at Night

Title: The Boy Who Ran Home at Night By: [Your Name] --- Page 1 – The Run The night was cold, and the street lamps flickered weakly. Tunde, a fourteen-year-old boy small for his age, was running home as fast as his short legs could carry him. His backpack bounced on his shoulders, and his heart thudded in his chest. He passed the old church, its doors shut tight and its bell silent. The shadows seemed longer than usual, stretching toward him as he ran. --- Page 2 – The Streets He raced past the old building everyone said was haunted. The windows were broken, the walls cracked, and the air around it felt strange. A dog barked somewhere behind him, and he nearly tripped on a stone. Farther down the road, he saw a bar filled with elderly men, laughing loudly and clinking bottles. No one noticed the scared boy darting by, breathless and trembling. --- Page 3 – The Fear Tunde’s mother had warned him never to stay out late. But he hadn’t listened. He had been at his friend Sola’s house, playing games long after dark. Now, the world felt different—quieter, colder. He heard something behind him, a soft scraping sound. His heart jumped. He turned, but saw only the empty road. Still, he could feel eyes watching him. --- Page 4 – The Shortcut Tunde decided to take the back path home, a narrow trail behind the church that led to his street faster. Tall trees bent over it, their branches tangled like claws. The wind howled through the leaves, sounding almost like whispers. He ran faster, his sandals slapping the dusty ground. Every sound made him flinch—his own breathing, the rustle of grass, the hoot of an owl. --- Page 5 – The Shadow Up ahead, something moved. A dark figure stood near the bend in the path, still and silent. Tunde stopped dead in his tracks, frozen with fear. The figure turned its head slowly toward him. He couldn’t see its face—only the faint outline of a tall shape in the moonlight. Without thinking, he turned and ran in the opposite direction, his heart racing like a drum. --- Page 6 – The Race His legs burned as he dashed through the street, tears forming in his eyes. He didn’t care who saw him now—he just wanted to reach home. His mind screamed, “Don’t look back! Don’t look back!” But curiosity won. He glanced behind—and the shadow was gone. Still, he kept running until his house came into view. --- Page 7 – The House He pushed open the wooden gate quietly, trying not to wake anyone. His chest rose and fell fast, his throat dry. He slipped into the house, closing the door gently. Inside, everything was silent. He leaned against the wall, trying to calm his heartbeat. Then—a faint creak from the floorboards behind him. He froze again. --- Page 8 – The Visitor He turned slowly toward the sound. There was no one there, only the faint outline of footprints—muddy, wet, leading across the floor. Tunde’s heart stopped. He stepped back, trembling, his eyes wide. Then the footprints faded, slowly disappearing into thin air. Tunde sank to the ground, whispering a prayer under his breath. He didn’t sleep that night. --- Page 9 – The Morning The sun finally rose. Birds chirped as if nothing strange had happened. Tunde’s mother found him sitting on the floor, still in his school uniform. “Tunde, what happened?” she asked, worried. He didn’t know how to explain what he’d seen, or what had followed him. He just shook his head and muttered, “I’ll never stay out late again, Mama.” --- Page 10 – The Lesson Days passed, and Tunde never forgot that night. Whether the shadow was real or not, he learned something important: that disobedience carries consequences, and fear often waits where wisdom is ignored. From then on, he came home early, no matter what. Sometimes, when he passed the church at dusk, he thought he saw a shadow watching— but this time, he simply nodded, and walked home before nightfall.