In summer we always go on holiday to Malaga and there I have got a group of friends that do the same. Last summer a new boy appeared, his name was Stefan.
At first, he looked nice and handsome, but as the days passed we realized that he was really stange. All the nights he took us to the cemetery and there he told us his terrifying stories. It was funny the first week because we thought that those stories weren't true. However, when we realized that they were real we started to got scared.
The last days we tried not to meet Stefan, but it was impossible as he always followed us. When he told us that he was leaving the next day we were all happy inside but we tried to appear sad. Because of that I was going to the airport to say goodbye.
I saw Stefan off at the airport and decided that, after all the scary expeciences we had been through together that summer, it would be safer never to have contact with him again.
Not in the sense of a two-fingered salute, probably. This is the blog of a class of Basque students studying towards the Cambridge First Certificate in English.
What kind of stories did Stefan tell?
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