Old Yet Eerie

• Weanna Lawrence, Grade 6
• Short Story
• 2021

The moon casts a soft glow against the ivory stained glass. I take in a deep breath, placing my hand on the spherical knob. I hadn’t been here in ages. The door creaks open, revealing nothing but piles and piles of… something. It’s so deep that you can immerse yourself in it. Whatever it is, it’s pretty clear that it hasn’t been touched for a long time. I take a step in, flinching and hurriedly hopping back out as the floorboards give way beneath me. I crouch down. A crack. Not so huge, but nonetheless dangerous. I help myself back up. I’ll just have to deal with it. I reach up to the rooftop above the porch, tightening my grasp as I cling onto the pole. Pulling myself upwards slowly, until I finally come in view to the upstairs. The bed is coated in dust, and the bathroom next to it is probably in the same condition. Thump! I jump back in shock, forgetting that I am on a rooftop. I fall onto the hardened ground below. Helping myself up, I massage my back. It seems to be the only thing that’s aching. Suddenly, a rustle of grass alarms me. My instincts cause me to scurry towards the side of the bumpy wall just in time, and a dimmed figure begins to approach the doorway. I remember that moment that I forgot to shut the door, and don’t notice the figure as it trudges towards me, until I come face to face with it. My panic rises, soaking itself into my veins. I look up, and the only thing I can see are amethyst eyes piercing through me. Oh no.