Haunted?

• Lauren Hill, Grade 9
• Short Story
• 2014

Howling came from the mysterious shack high on the cliff. It gave a feeling of despair in the cold, dimming afternoon light which left shack lying in a dark lonely shadow. Before I knew it I climbed the ragged rock face to where the house stood isolate and mournful for a time long past.

I walked cautiously up the stairs to the porch. The third, and final step creaked under my weight. My heart pounded wildly, barely contained by my chest as I tried to be as quiet as a mouse. The house was made of wood, weathered and full of holes. The shack was unwelcoming to any visitors that spied on its alone, and abandoned posture. A far cry from when the place was brimming with life. Another deafening howl came from inside the desolate shack: I was terrified... I wondered - could it be the cry of a ghost of the person who once lived here, or was it just the wind whistling through the creepy empty house. I advanced towards the crooked door which held on desperately to the shack’s mysteries. I wondered should I go in there. Was I disturbing anyone? But who could be out here anyway? My hand reached as far away from me as it could extend. My hand slipped over the cold, icy doorknob sending shivers up and down my spine. Throwing all wandering thoughts out of my mind I guided the door open. A gust of cool musty air rushed over my face. It had been freed from the shack’s prison. The door squealed so loudly that I thought it was acknowledging my presence - to someone? I went inside. The door slammed behind me with a big bang. I screamed and it echoed through the shack and out of a broken window; echoing across the valley. I warily made my way through the shack. It was dark, dusty and very creepy. I didn’t know what would be around the corner.

The roof of the shack was just timber. There was no ceiling. Timber frames held up the roof and cobwebs. Curtains covered the windows all except the one at the front that was shattered and had jagged glass edges. The curtains were more like torn pieces of old potato sack. Everything had dust on it, even the walls. Cobwebs filled the corners but caught dust rather than flies. The broom stood longingly against a simple wall. It hadn’t been touched for years.

As I entered another room, another haunting scream came out from somewhere behind me. I jumped and screamed. Again the echo repeated itself many times. I was trembling with fear. I had an uneasy presence around me that I was being watched and followed. I felt something touch me with soft icy grip, I let out a yelp, then ran as fast as I could out of that run down old building. When I was about twenty meters away, I slid to a halt, turned and wondered…