At Grandma's Cottage

“Mom!” called twelve-year-old Rose. “I’m going to Grandma’s!”

“All right, honey,” came her mother’s voice. “Would you mind bringing that basket of cookies to her?”

“Sure, Mom,” replied Rose, pulling on her boots and slipping into a red sweatshirt.

As Rose walked out of the door, soft snowflakes brushed against her cheek and floated carelessly to the white ground. She shivered and pulled up her hood as she grabbed her bike from the side of the house. Hanging the basket from a handlebar, she got onto the bike and started pedaling.

Rose smiled at the sight of the snow. She loved the pretty snowflakes of winter, each with their intricate patterns, and the beautiful red birds in the bare trees.

After pedaling through the path in the woods for about ten minutes, she finally arrived at her grandmother’s cottage.

Rose rode down the hill and came to a stop at her grandmother’s door, which was slightly ajar. That’s odd, why would Grandma leave her door cracked open in the middle of winter? Rose wondered as she pushed the door open.

Once inside, Rose noticed how quiet it was. Something was odd, false, about the silence. As Rose scanned her grandma’s kitchen, she noticed a single hair on the counter. She bent over and examined the hair. It wasn’t her grandma’s hair, nor even a human’s hair, it was the hair of a…

“Wolf!” screamed Rose as the snarling beast crept into the kitchen. The wolf’s eyes glimmered as he saw his new meal.

The next moment, those same eyes bulged and shut as the kitchen knife entered his body.

The wolf may have gobbled her up if Rose’s grandmother, who was known as "Little Red Riding Hood" when she was a girl, hadn’t warned her about the dangerous wolf.