The Attic

• Jeff Wang, Grade 6, Doncaster Primary School
• Short Story
• 2009

Finalist in the 'Xtreme Read 2009' competition

The first signs of it were barely noticeable. Anthony and I were reading our letters in the attic and the wind beat the roof with a dull but ominous sound; the trees clattered against the dilapidated windows, as if there were monsters from hell trying to break through the house.
The wind bowled menacingly and neither Anthony nor I spoke. The house was dead quiet and the only sound came from outside. The evilness screamed in my ears, they were like an orchestra of phantoms playing continuously on a series of ghostly lit notes. A trickle of cold sweat snaked its way down my spine. I couldn’t bear this any longer; I stepped up from my chair and walked sleepily towards my rickety wooden bed.
I wrapped myself tightly beneath the warm covers. I dreamt of nothing but
nightmares. Suddenly the attic door creaked, my heart was agonised. My palms clamped to the cover. Anthony and I became alert. An apprehension of a giant shadow flickered across the walls. ‘It’ somehow seemed to sense the warm, blooded life in this room, because it lurched out of the darkness and lunged towards me. Just in time, Anthony grabbed an axe and swung at it hard, bull’s eye! It let out a painful,
anguished roar, my hair stood up, my heart was pulled. The creature turned its back and fled towards the front door, Anthony was courageous, for he chased after it and another series of threatening cries of the monster was heard in return. In the eerie glow of the the moon, I could see two figures running rapidly on the plains. As both of them soon disappeared into the woods, the howls followed and subsided. But the echoes of it still flowed in my mind and repeated the haunting scene.
I stood rooted to the ground as if I have just dared to see Medusa. For a moment, I thought Anthony was standing behind me, but I felt a twinge of uneasiness linger within me and I forced myself not to look back.
My imagination seemed to turn me around; I met with Anthony’s eyes.
This is impossible! Anthony was emotionless except for a fiendish grin on his face, he is not Anthony! No! Then, as though someone casted an evil spell, Anthony vanished.
I walked back to my bed. My mind was blank. Then, the snow-white curtain caught my eyes; a line of sinister words was formed by blood. I read out loud, my voice shivered in the icy air, “Trees shall bring you agony, trees…”