Revenge

A twsited prose I wrote, inspired by THE master of twistedness, Christopher Pike

On the other side of the wall was the ugliest thorn bush he had ever seen. It's branches were twisted
upwards as if pleading for him to attempt to jump over them and become their next victim. The thorns
on the bushes glistened red, brown in the sunlight and to him they seemed the remains of past victims.
He walked along the wall decided he wouldn't jump off until the thorn bush became less dense or, even
better, cleared away altogether. As he walked along the wall he became conscious of the fact that the
bush became more and more dense and soon a light growth, on the side he had got on to the wall from,
seem to become more dense and soon their were bushes on both sides. Also the wall that had been
generously wide had slowly became thinner until he was finding it hard to keep his balance. Soon even
the voice of the arrogant persistence of his gender faded out and he decided to head back and jump off
the wall on the side he climbed on. The wall was now so thin that he turned around with difficulty and
almost cut himself on the thorns that were now metres thick and almost as high as the wall. He walked
for miles, however the bushes never thinned out and the wall never became thicker, in fact the wall
seemed to become thinner the thorn bushes thicker, higher and meaner. He couldn't turn around
because the wall was too thin and the bushes too dangerous so he kept on walking and walking …