Nura Paarlberg, “The Haunted House”

I woke up that Halloween morning and got dressed. I felt excited and uneasy. I was going to explore a haunted house at the urging of my friend, James. My other two friends, Tom and Robert, had both decided to come. So, I reluctantly agreed too. I didn’t want to seem scared.

The old tale about the haunted house made it extra scary. It went something like this. A long time ago, an old woman lived in a giant mansion all alone. She called the police and told them about ghosts in her house. “I have heard ghostly voices and my furniture has moved by itself,” she explained. “Please help me at my home on 546 Avenue Lane,” she pleaded. “When did the signs start?” asked the police on the phone. “October 16th, 15 days ago,” she replied.

The police hung up and talked amongst themselves. “October 15th is when the 48 people went missing. Is it possible…?” asked a police officer who got no response. Later that day, the old lady visited them. She had gray stone in her skin. “This is what happened to me,” she said, pointing to her forehead. “ When you look at the ghosts, you slowly turn to stone.” Some police just laughed. And, the Chief said, “We ain’t scared of fairy tales. You just coo coo.” Most of them thought that she might be crazy, but they decided to investigate anyway.

That night, the police went into the mansion. As they walked inside, the police noticed dozens of stone statues matching the profiles of the missing people. Then they heard ghostly voices and saw things move just like the old woman had described. Suddenly, the old woman appeared before them, in the form of a ghost. As they tried to talk to her, she disappeared. When they tried to escape, they heard the old woman say, “It’s too late.” The police turned around to see the 48 missing people floating behind the old woman before turning to hard, gray stone. The police, old woman, and the missing people still haunt the place.

“Alex, school starts in 20 minutes!” Mom yelled, interrupting my cold thoughts. I hurried to eat my cereal and rode my bike to school. My friends James, Robert and Tom rode back home with me after school, and we played video games over pizza until it was time to trick or treat. Around 5:00 PM, we put on some scary masks, grabbed our pillow cases and headed out for candy.  When we had collected enough candy to fill our bags, we returned to my place. And, we watched a scary movie to pass the time. I was too nervous to eat anything, so I just picked at a bag of Skittles. I looked at James every few minutes to see if he was paying attention to the time. During the last fifth of the movie, James tapped me, and I turned around. He motioned to the window indicating it was dark. I felt scared. It was time. I turned off the T.V., and we all instinctively got up.

I told Mom that my friends and I were going trick or treating a little more. She said okay. I said goodbye to Mom, afraid that I would never see her again. We grabbed our costumes and pillowcases to avoid looking suspicious. As I closed the door behind me, Mom yelled, “ Don’t be gone long, your guy’s parents will be here soon!”

I tried to reassure Tom and Robert that the tale was not real and that we would be fine. They agreed, but I could see the fear in their eyes. I was scared too.

When we arrived at 564 Avenue Lane, James jumped up and said, “There it is – the haunted house!” He ran toward it, and we followed. I gulped. We crossed over the panels that boarded up the door and walked inside cautiously. The huge, wooden door slammed behind us. We all screamed loudly. “No need to be scared guys,” James said uneasily.

We walked farther inside and heard voices. They sounded just like the ones in the tale. We saw chairs closing in on us. We all started to cry, and James tried to hide his tears. “Guys, are you feeling this?” asked Tom quietly. When we felt things breathing on us, we started to back away. “What did we do to you?” I asked as I saw figures appear.

“DON’T LOOK AT THEM!” screamed Robert just as I was about to make eye contact. I looked around and noticed a statue. It looked like James. “Rob? Is that James,” I asked in an unsteady voice.“I think so,” whispered Robert.

I couldn’t believe anything. It all felt like a nightmare. “JAMES! COME BACK!” I said, crying. I tried pulling on his arm which fell off. I cried holding onto his arm. “Let’s go! We’re about to die here,” shouted Tom. I tried pulling on the door but it was stuck.

“Catch!” said Tom as he threw me his Swiss army knife. I pushed open the knife and cut through the handle, making a hole through the door. “Let’s go!” I said opening the door.

We heard the voices begging us to stay, but no one turned to look. I was still holding James’ arm. We didn’t slow our pace or rest until we got to my house. When we opened the door to my house. We saw our parents talking. “ Where’s James?” asked James’ mother, Sarah.  I hid his arm behind my back. No one answered, and she cried. We explained everything and she cried more. I was still holding his arm.

That night, I cried myself to sleep. I squeezed James’ arm. I had voices in my nightmares. Everything felt weird. I woke up to hear voices every night. I always held his arm.

A week later, I attended his funeral when I felt a faint tap on my shoulder.  I turned around. It was James! He looked pale, ghostly, and had no arm. I heard him scream, but no one turned to look. I don’t think they heard him. I saw his arm shaking in my hands. “I’m sorry James,” I cried. He didn’t answer. He disappeared, and I never saw him again. I placed his arm in the flowers surrounding his coffin and never had nightmares again. I made a promise to myself: I would never go to that haunted house again. What I do know is that there might be a way to bring back James.

 

The End