Lamingtons

• John Nelson, Grade 8
• Short Story
• 2004

“YOU DID WHAT?”
“I entered us in the school fundraiser,” I said quietly.
“Why?” my friend, Kirsty, asked with a tone of frustration in her voice.
“Because we make a great team,”
“What do you mean?” She asked more calmly.
“Well, we won the three legged race last year and our project on amphibians was great,” I said.
“Ok, but why the stupid fundraiser?”
“Because we’ll have fun and help fundraise money for the school,”
“Right, and what is the school going to buy with the money?” She said, calm at last.
“I don’t know,” I said, shrugging my shoulders.
“Great we’re going to run around so the teachers can get a big pay rise,”
“Probably yeah,” I said sarcastically.
“Cool, so when is it?” She said.
“Tomorrow.”
“What are we selling?” she asked, with a slightly bored tone.
“Lamingtons.”

*

“This is it?”
“Yep, the last house,”
We looked up at the last house on the block. A chill ran down our spines as we looked.
It’s windows seemed to emit dark shadows within them, the shutters banged open and shut over41 and over again. It was like looking into a nightmare.
“Do you want to go in?” I said,
“I don’t know, it looks pretty creepy!”
“Don’t be a wuss,”
“Alright come on,” she said, a bit disappointed.
We approached the gates. But only to find they were locked.
“Great!” I said a little upset.
“We may as well go home,”

*

The gates swung open with a deafening screech.
“How did that happen?” She said a little scared.
“I don’t know, but we may as well go in.”
The stone footpath had long since eroded away leaving only dirt to tread on.
We started to walk across the garden towards the front door.
Old weeds strangled the dead plants two times over, and a rotted smell seeped though the air.
“I told you it was creepy,”
We continued through the front garden without a clue that we were being watched.
We stepped onto the rotting floorboards that were the porch of the house.
I knocked hard. Impatient, I knocked again.
The door remained shut.
“No-one’s home,”
We turned and were about to begin walking home when a deep voice sounded through the air.
“Yes?”

We turned on the spot. Standing in the doorway was a very stern looking woman staring at us.
I stared at her. She was wearing black all over and her hair was in a bun at the back.
“What is it that you want?” she asked, her tone was serious and she seemed pretty bored with us.
“Wo…wou….” I stammered.
“Come on, spit it out,” She interrupted.
“Would you like to buy some lamingtons?” Kirsty answered for me.
“There’re a dollar each if you want to buy some,” I continued.
“We would be grateful if you did.” She piped in.
The woman stared at us for a while as if she could delve into our minds.
“No lamingtons today, sorry” she said finally.
I turned, down hearted, for the third time and took a step off the porch.
But before my foot even touched the ground, the woman spoke.
“Wait,” she said, “I changed my mind, I would like some of those scrumptious lamingtons.”

*

I turned again and looked at her face. No longer did it show a blank, bored look, but a wicked grin, that spread across her face, ear to ear. Like a stretched out clown mask. I felt my skin crawl.
“How many?”
“Two would be enough.” she replied.
“Ok, that will be two dollars, thanks.” I said.
“I’ll go get the money,” she said, as she turned.
“Please do come in.” she called over her shoulder.
I took a step in, closely followed by Kirsty.
“Wow!” She said with a look of awe on her face.
We were in a big hallway within the house, it’s staircases loomed above them.
A red carpet went straight through the hall ending at a doorway at the end, like a red big tongue.
There were antique vases along the walls and pictures of the oldest looking people above them.
A painting on the roof showed a battle of the Romans against some villagers in white.
I looked down, to find the stern-looking woman had disappeared.

*

“Look at this Kirsty.” I said, turning towards her.
She was gone.
“Kirsty!” I called, looking around.
I called her again. No answer.
I looked around. At the end of the hallway the door with the red carpet leading towards it was open. A cold breeze seemed to sweep the floor like an ice-cold broom.
Kirsty must of gone through there I thought. I started to walk across the hall, when a blood- curdling scream filled the air. Kirsty’s scream.
I ran towards the door and swung it open to reveal a small hallway.
“KIRSTY!!!” I yelled, running towards the end of the hallway.
She screamed again, more louder than before. I yanked open the door.
“Kirsty?” I said quietly, as I looked around.
There she was in a corner curled up in tight ball. Staring straight ahead. I ran towards her, I bent down, and asked her if she was ok. She did nothing for a moment, but then she lifted a finger and pointed at the opposite wall. I looked up and I thought I was going to throw up. There across the room was a dead carcass. A human. But it wasn’t the rotting flesh that wanted me to throw up; it was what was eating it.



A dark shadow was consuming the human’s chest.
It seemed to look up at me and I knew what it was thinking.
Fresh meat.
“RUN!” I yelled, pulling Kirsty up. We crashed through the doorway to the small hall.
But as we did I could feel it’s hot breath on the back of my neck.
We bursted through the doorway into the large hall. I turned my head. There was nothing.
I slowed down, and continued towards the entrance door.
“Why did you run off?” I asked, short of breath. I looked at her. She was scared stiff.
“Are you ok?”
She merely nodded.
Then the front door slammed shut. I looked around. It was shut tight.
I turned back; about to ask Kirsty what we should do, when I stopped in my tracks.
The great devouring shadow, the creature that was after us, was at the door at the end of the hallway.

*

Kirsty screamed, with a look of pure terror on her face. I couldn’t help thinking about the end, when the stern looking woman burst through a door to the right.
“Alright here’s two dollars…” she said stopping to look at our faces.
“What’s wrong?” she asked
I turned back to the door at the end of the hallway.
It was gone.
“There was a big…thing…it was eating a…a…”
“A what?” She asked,
“A S...Shadow”
“A Shadow?”
“Yeah, it was eating a....”
“Human?”
“Yes, But…”
She raised her hand.
“No buts, you have disrupted the privacy of my home and now you must leave.”
I turned around. I was thinking about that thing. It’s shallow breathing; it’s bright red eyes that burned like fire and how it seemed to know something that I didn’t.
The door slammed behind us.
Inside the woman grinned to herself.
He loved lamingtons.





By John Nelson.
Age: 13
Address: 81-blende street
Year: 8
School: Broken hill high school