Haunted Heart

• Annabelle Burrell, Grade 6
• Short Story
• 2014

I stood staring through the misty fog at the spooky mansion standing (well more like falling down) at the end of my street. Just looking at it told me that spooky didn’t nearly describe the horrifying sight in front of me. It sent shivers down my spine. I had just gone through the rickety old gate, that squeaked nosily, and into a place of haunts. It was silent, too silent. Only a few whispering sounds hung in the air. Why was I here? I thought, but I knew the answer. I was here to find out if anyone, or anything, lived here. My suspicions were growing stronger by the minute. I couldn’t help but take a little peak. I crept up the cracked driveway nervously. I tip-toed up the wonky stairs. I cautiously stepped up to the front door. Did I dare to ring the doorbell? A green light seeped through one of the windows and through a crack in the door. I reached a shaking hand to ring the doorbell. Ding-dong!!!! It echoed in my ears. The door swung open, but there was no one there. The door slammed behind me. Terrified, I tried to get it open but it wouldn’t budge. There was no backing out now. I walked through the room and up a giant stairwell. At the top there was a room. The door was closed but it looked like the slightest movement would rip it free from the hinges. I could hear a sound coming from inside the room. It sounded like muffled moaning. Someone does live here!! Overcome with curiosity, I opened the door. There was a bed, but nobody in sight. I have never been more scared in my life. At the end of the room was a window. I looked out of it and saw the dead garden at the front of the house. Then I heard footsteps creep closer than stop. Someone was behind me. I whipped around and nearly fainted at what I saw. There stood a little girl a little younger than me. She would have only been about 9 years old. Her skin was whiter than gleaming snow. She was definitely a ghost. I screamed. The ghost started crying. I stopped screaming. I looked at her questioningly as she sat on the bed. Tears streamed down her face. I finally sat down beside her. “Why are you crying?” I asked. She didn’t answer. I realised that she was lonely and in need of a friend but because she was a ghost, nobody would be her friend. I put my hand on her shoulder. It was colder than ice!! “I will be your friend.” I offered. She looked blankly at me, as if nobody had ever said that to her before. Finally she smiled. “I would love that.” She spoke softly. So friends we became. I didn’t mind that she was a ghost. Not at all. The thing is, I’m not scared anymore.