This is a rewrite of an old story I started writing a long time ago. This time it will be written in English and the script will have changes in it.
This story isn't really great as it is something I made up when I was around 15 years old. But I would like to finish it and maybe some of you will like to read it anyway.
I'm not sure how to classify this story, but it going to be (or at least it trying to be) somewhat of a creepy story so keep this in mind.


This is a story about a girl called Jacqueline. She’s 20 years old and lives in a small cottage in a small village, which was located right on the edge of an old and large forest. She has lived in that cottage alone for a few years now, but this wasn't always the case. She was found by an elderly couple next to main well used by the inhabitants of this place. The elderly couple took pity on the small crying child and they decided to adopt it as their own, having had none themselves. They lived a happy life together, but not a long one. After a few years, the man became ill and died a couple days later. The woman was struck with grieve over the death of her husband and died a few years later. After these tragic events the village returned slowly to her normal cheerful, but quiet boring self. However, the village would not remain undisturbed for long.

Suddenly during the night, the windows of one of the houses were smashed and some furniture destroyed. Nobody knew who did this and why, but the vandalism kept returning. Each time a different house was struck and no house was struck twice. The villagers were at the end of their wits and started calling it the works of demons and witches. They have tried everything to stop this madness so they could return to their normal lives, but nothing seemed to work.

One day even the small little cottage of Jacqueline was struck, but the demolishing wouldn't stop after a day. For weeks now she is being plagued by this weird phenomenon that has struck the other houses. Every night something seemed to break. A chair, a vase, curtains. Every night it seemed to be something small, but every night she slept it happened. The nights where she was determined to stay awake and catch whoever did this were always quiet and calm.
The villagers didn't bother themselves with what was happening to Jacqueline. They were just all too happy that they weren't the ones who were targeted anymore……

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