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Oddmanthefirst -> RE: Horror Stories (10/18/2009 22:31:50)
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I wrote this story when I was in 8th grade, I tried revising it recently. Here is the revised version.
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Haunted House
“But I don’t want to move to this old and nasty house!” moaned Jill.
The pink ribbons in her thin brunette hair matched with her bright rose dress. My disapproving eyes turned to her; she replied with her tongue.
“I’m sorry but this is all that we can afford right now,” replied my Dad.
His face resembled sympathy. He stroked his coarse gray hair with his right hand, with his other on the wheel.
“Yeah, I don’t want to be here either, I want to go back to our old neighborhood!” I groaned, trying to make it as evident as possible that I didn’t want to be here.
“That’s enough Jack and Jill!” shouted my mom. Her strong words indicated that she was done with this trivial badgering. “Let’s at least give it a chance.”
A small girl galloped out onto the street, panting. Hot rubber flew off the wheels of our Toyota Corolla. Approximately two feet lay between the stopped car and the young girl.
“Stop!” she shrieked.
Rags of remnant clothing covered her frail body. Her hair was a very light blonde and she had a pale face.
“Just please stop…,” she cried.
Motherly instincts took over my mother as she rushed out of the car. She kneeled before the young girl.
“Stop what honey? What’s wrong?”
“I-I-I’m warning you…, do not go in tha-that house,” the girl stammered.
I felt scared, a feeling that I have not experienced in a long time, and I wanted the girl not to be there with us any longer.
The girl looked sharply at my mom. The autumn wind howled and the dead leaves of October started to fly, creating a myopic scene. Nothing could be viewed; one could not even look at one’s own hand.
As the leaves cleared, the girl was no where to be found.
“What do you think that she means by that?” my dad joked.
“I don’t know, but I don’t like it,” I said.
My mother’s expression clearly showed one of confusion as she reentered the car. We continued our way to our new house.
That night, sleep was not easy to overcome. Something about that girl made me want to believe her, yet logic had deemed it implausible. Out of the darkness, a deft screeching noise was heard.
“What was that?” I whispered.
The noise became louder and louder. I quietly walked across the bare wooden floor to the closet. Plastic covered the furniture scattered in my room. As I got to my destination, the noise became louder. My ears could no longer take it, my hand grasped the knob and I tugged the closet open as forcibly possible. The noise ceased to exist as the door became ajar.
“Whoa,” I exclaimed.
Then I went back to my disturbed bed and looked out the window to find that the lamp post outside was flickering.
“Jack! Jill! Come down for breakfast!” shouted my mom.
I sleepily woke up and got out of bed. I stumbled down the creaky steps to the kitchen. My Mom was cooking pancakes and my Dad was drinking coffee, black as usual.
“Honey, you have bags under your eyes!” shouted my mom.
“Well, I had a trouble sleeping last night…” I quickly changed my mind and averted the topic at hand. “Mom, can I have some new sheets? I mean, I’m thirteen years old and I still have sheets that are made for toddlers,” I complained.
“I’ll think about it,” replied my Mom. “Oh my goodness, where is your sister?”
“Please go up and get her Jack,” my father ordered.
“With pleasure…,” I sarcastically answered. I quickly excused myself from the dinner table. I avoided the massive amounts of boxes, which contained personal trifles in our living room, and started to ascend up the stairs towards my sister’s room.
When I got up there, I went to Jill’s room. There I steadily looked upon the room and checked inside the bed. Jill could not be found, and the satin bed attire was left with not a single wrinkle.
“Mom, Jill is not here,” I shouted.
“What do you mean: she’s not there?” yelled my Mom.
I heard frantic pounding on the staircase. My mother scattered across the wood flooring and stood before me. All of the breath in her body exhaled out of her mouth as tears swelled up in her eyes.
I state the obvious, “She’s not there.”
She slowly turned around and went with a full sprint to the nearest phone. I walked out of the room and stared towards the attic door. I sluggishly cavorted towards the rope. I tug hard onto the rope and a staircase fell upon me. Each step cracked as I went my way up. An abyss consumed my senses. My way out suddenly ceased to exist as the staircase closed. I felt an inability to breath. I frantically gripped my heart and scrutinized the scene. A single gold crown lay before me. I steadily picked it up, confused, and placed it on to my head. I turned around and saw Jill.
She confronted me and put her hand onto my lips.
“Listen,” she whispered into my ear.
An eerie voice sang “Jack and Jill went up the hill to fetch a pail of water. Jack fell down….”
The floor shifted to the right. The pit of my stomach started to hurl onto the confusion that lay before us all. Chaos erupted into my head. This was the end. This was always the end.
“And broke his crown….”
My crown slid off my heard and broke. “And Jill came tumbling after…” I failed to see my sister. My head and the wood floor met, my mind decided to take a nap.
When I woke up, I saw a pale face with blue eyes and white hair.
“Yo- yo- you look just like that girl,” I stammered.
“So you’ve met my sister,” he mumbled. His shyness was quite intriguing.
Something was clearly not right. The qualities also seemed to differ from that of the norm. It was all so queer. My mind lit up as I solved the problem that lay before me.
“Wait… I just figured something out!” I screamed cynically.
The boy started to back away.
The boy’s eyes became fearful. I slowly walked towards him.
“You know what we do with humans?”
There was no reply.
“Well, you are about to find out,” I howled.
My eyes turned to dark burning coals and I lurched towards him. He started to scream but it was no use. He was now my new ghost pal.
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