Don't Go In The Basement

• Geria Woolley, Grade 9
• Short Story
• 2019

I reluctantly reached out to grab the candle holder as I made my way down the stairs, to the basement hesitantly. There was a sound that kept bugging me last night and I felt the urge to go and check what was the cause of it and maybe fix it, so that I could have a peaceful night’s sleep. But it was in the basement and I wasn’t particularly fond of going down there.
6 months ago, my grandmother was doing some woodworks in the basement. She loved to carve wood into beautiful masterpieces. One day when she was standing on a ladder to grab a chisel from a high shelf, her foot accidentally slipped. She held onto a rake to keep her steady, but she fell, the rake falling first and then her on top of the rake. My grandmother was very weak at the time as it was, so the fall unfortunately ended her life. Ever since then, I couldn’t face going to the basement.
My shaky hand grasped the cold metal handle and pushed the door open with a creak. I held the candle up higher to see better in the utter darkness, but the candle didn’t provide enough light.
Suddenly, out of nowhere, an unbelievably strong gust of wind blew past me, and killed the candlelight. A shiver went down my spine as I remembered: there were no windows in the basement.
I ripped open my pocket and roughly searched for the matchbox. I finally found the glorious thing and yanked out a matchstick. Striking the match against the box was a challenge with all the adrenaline pumping through my veins. The matchstick eventually sparked to life and I brought it to the wick of the candle.
Thankfully, the candle lit up, but as I looked up, I was met with a set of blood-red eyes. I dropped the newly lit candle and bolted out the door, leaving the mysterious, chilling eyes in the basement. My feet padded down the hallway as I snatched my jacket and ran out the front door. No one was home at the moment because my dad went to the shops, so there was no one to stop me or ask me questions about what I was doing.
I began climbing up my big tree like a cheetah chasing its prey. I looked down and saw a mysteriously dressed figure with a black cloak that only showed its red beaming eyes.
I let out an ear-piercing scream as I reached the top and the figure must’ve gotten shocked because they covered their ears before removing their hood to reveal… my father…
“Claire? What on earth are you doing up there?”
“Me?! I was running away from YOU! I thought you were some creepy devil that was coming to kill me!”
“Honey, this was my Halloween costume that I was talking about!”
I shook my head, completely embarrassed and then hopped down from the tree.
“I was beginning to think that those stupid red eyes on your costume were grandma’s…” I bowed my head.
“Aww, I’m sorry, sweetie. I won’t try and scare you again.” He punched me in the shoulder playfully and I pushed him back.
As we walked back into the house, I noticed that the basement door was shut. I looked at my father and asked curiously,
“Dad, did you close the basement door when you came out?”
“What do you mean? I never went to the basement today, Claire...”