My first Alice Cullen tagahanga fiction didn't go so well, so I'm trying again.
Feedback please.
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The night sky was just beginning to turn dark as Mary stood in the cold of the night waiting at the bus stop. A unan clutched to her chest and a over night bag in the other hand, she shivered and not just because of the freezing cold air. She had heard of the stories told around camp fires, the stories about the streets of Illinois. They seemed ridiculous to Mary the night that she had heard them, but now as she stood alone in the almost black of the night they didn't seem too made-up. They seemed...
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