The Haunted House

• Sophie Ferguson, Grade 7
• Short Story
• 2013

As dusk was forming, a concerned feeling was beginning to take part in my stomach. The sharp rays of the very last sun for the day were blinding my drowsy eyes through the cracks of the vast trees in the forest. The disturbing noises distracted me from finding Tom, my best mate, who had been in hiding for what feels like several hours at this stage.
Just as it feels as though I’ve searched and covered nearly every inch of the forest floor in this area, to my great relief I hear noises in the distance behind a pile of chopped up pine trees. My first instinct is to run up to the trees but I want to listen some more to become more familiar with what this rustling type noise is. For a few moments I stand there, chest puffing and legs unbearably sore. ‘TOM.’ I call out. As I both expected, but dreaded, there was no reply. Enough listening I thought, I ran up to the pile of wood. No one was there. With the faint day light that remained, I spotted some boot prints that seemed to be leading deeper into the forest. I know I must find Tom, and there’s a possibility he could be down here, I thought with a touch of hope. I sprint down the track the boot prints take me. The deeper I get into the forest, the closer the trees get amongst me. With what seems like the finish of this track, I stop and take it all in. It takes a while for my eyes to adjust to what’s around me. What I see next is possibly the most horrifying but phenomenal thing I’ve ever seen.
As I’m staggering cautiously towards the uninviting house, I smell the vile and musty smells that fill the foggy air. I then notice the trees that look like skeletons with several bony arms reaching up to the dark and gloomy sky. Whilst I’m walking closer and closer to the abandoned mansion, the crunch of dry autumn leaves are making a lot of un-intentional noise beneath my shaky boots. When I look up at the house for the 3rd time my eyes immediately adjust to the right side of the house, where there’s a window with a bright light. The fog above my head and around the rotting, damaged walls and roof of the enormous house is lurking around as a stalker would and it’s difficult to see further ahead. My legs are jelly and are shaking like a frail old man’s hand whilst participating in something. I’m now approaching the massive, cracked door. As my hand approaches the door, shivers immediately rush down my paralysed spine.
The draining creak of the door was horrifying, the sound after that was even worse. A scream pierced my ears. It was Tom. Words were taken over by a massive hug that showed my relief. After realizing where we were, we sprinted home, preparing ourselves for the parents.