Drip, drip, drip - By Sofia

“Hello,” I whisper. Its pitch black, well brown, a dark poop brown. 

All I can hear is water dripping. I creep slowly up to the sound of the water. I feel my hand grab a torch.
Drip drip drip. I hear it again. 

What is that noise? I think to myself.  I switch on the torch And then see my goldfish swimming in a pool of blood. I breathe so gently and then so heavily that my breath stops and I fall to the ground and  I get back up again, flew up my ladder to my bed and go to sleep.