Haunted House
A treat for you all - a story I wrote for my class to illustrate the art of story writing. Brilliant beginning with description of character and description of setting ; Marvellous middle with reaching a problem; and Exciting ending resolving the problem and adding a twist. It's not the world's greatest short story but it's still pretty topical... (sort of)
A treat for you all - a story I wrote for my class to illustrate the art of story writing. Brilliant beginning with description of character and description of setting ; Marvellous middle with reaching a problem; and Exciting ending resolving the problem and adding a twist. It's not the world's greatest short story but it's still pretty topical... (sort of)
Ben had been warned not to go down to the old, abandoned house. He was the sort of boy though for whom the forbidden was exciting. He looked at himself in the mirror and tried to control his breathing in order to calm his nerves. He saw a 10-year old boy, quite tall for his age with hair as wild as the plants in the garden of the house. His normally brown hair still had blond streaks in it and his face had, what his uncle would always describe as, an impish look. He thought again about the house. Who had lived there and why had it been left to rot? Were the stories about ghosts and demons true? Had the former owners been driven out by the spirits?
In his mind?s eye the house certainly looked terrifying: it had tall high towers and broken windows; bats swooped and larger animals used the place as freely as if it were their own. He checked his torch battery one more time, pulled on his thickest jumper and crept out of the room and out into the night.
As Ben arrived at the house he started to wish that he was back in his nice warm bed. The night was freezing and he could see his breath as he stood there. ?Robbie? Are you there?? he whispered. There was no response. The visit to the house had seemed much easier when Ben and Robbie had discussed it at school earlier that day. If anything Robbie had been the one spurring the whole project on and now he was nowhere to be seen. Ben gave an involuntary shiver and considered for a minute packing the whole experiment in and heading back home. ?They say,? Robbie had said, ? that ghosts are guarding the treasure but seeing as how we don?t believe in ghosts there?s nothing for us to be afraid of.? Right now Ben wasn?t sure whether he believed in ghosts or not. His stomach had an eerie feeling and his eyes kept darting all around, back and forth, looking for signs of movement. ?Robbie!? he hissed again. An owl hooted and Ben jumped. Ahead of him was the wooden door with a great brass knocker and a gaping hole where the key had once gone. Ben tentatively pushed against the door and immediately jumped back in horror as what seemed like a million bats flapped their wings and swarmed over his head. He could now see all the way down the entrance hall. Old portraits of men long forgotten covered the walls enveloped in cobwebs and dust. Ben shone his torch all around him from left to right and back again noting that even with the beam on them some areas still seemed to be shrouded in darkness. As he moved the torch his eyes were drawn to the elaborate hall mirror. As he moved closer and peered into it he could swear that a face that was not his peered back at him. A floorboard creaked noisily beneath his feet as he continued to walk down the hall. Suddenly with a loud bang the front door slammed shut and as he twisted round he dropped the torch and was left in complete darkness. Then the noises started: the sound of feet and the creak of floorboards; the scurrying of small legs and the whistling of the wind. Ben dropped to his knees and scrambled around on the floor. His hands touched something soft and furry. He could feel something beating inside it. He could feel a tail. That was when he screamed.
Ben began to run aimlessly towards where he thought the door was. His left leg caught on something and once again he found himself on the floor. There was a tremendous, ripping, cracking noise and Ben found himself falling, falling, falling. And then he knew no more.
When he came to he could see a candle and a podgy worried face staring down at him. ?Ben!? the podgy worried face hissed. Ben explored his body for damage and slowly raised his hand. ?Ben!? the face repeated. ?What are we going to do?? Not the most helpful of questions Ben considered as he lay there but at least now he knew where Robbie was. ?I think I fell?, he offered lamely.
Somewhere in the background the grandfather clock stuck 12 and Ben wished again that he was still tucked up in bed. ?I can get you a rope from the workshop?, Robbie suggested, ?and tie it on to the staircase.? Ben grunted his assent and waited as the light disappeared and footsteps sounded and then faded away. It didn?t occur to him to wonder how Robbie knew that there was a rope in the workshop or indeed where the workshop was.
He tried to stand up and, as he did so, felt a wet and sticky patch on his arm. It was pitch black, very cold and the only thing he wanted was his nice warm bed and his parents. He wouldn?t even mind getting into trouble, he just wanted out of here. A single tear dribbled down his cheek as Ben started to feel very sorry for himself. He was distracted from his thoughts by a whistling noise that came towards him and ended with a thud. There was light again in the direction the rope had come from and he felt strengthened by it as he shinned up the rope using the broken floorboards above him to help. When he reached the top Robbie was gone but the candle was still there. Ben didn?t wait a second longer. Using the candle to guide him he headed for the door and ran all the way home and into bed without stopping.
His mother found him the next morning, still fully clothed and with dust and cobwebs on him. Resolving to have a proper chat later she sent him on his way to school and tried to work out where on earth he?d been. The first person Ben saw at school was Robbie. Robbie looked embarrassed.
?I?m really sorry about last night?, he said. ?My Dad made me stay in so I couldn?t make it to the house after all. Maybe another time?.
