Last week it was ‘Halloween.’ So here is a short story I wrote, my tribute to the spooky season…

Ever since I was younger I’ve known one thing: I have always been intrigued by the old haunted house on top of the hill.

My teachers always told me to stay away. My dad said no one has ever come out alive. My mum said my sister walked into the house when I was a year old, there are still pictures of her and me on the wall. She hasn’t been seen again.

Despite what everyone has told me, I have still been intrigued by the old haunted house. My best friend has known of my fascination with the old haunted house. He’s very brave, he’ll stand up to anyone, even if they’re twice his size. When we were young he and I agreed that when we were both twenty we would go into the old haunted house. He died last year.

The funeral was on the hill, in the cemetery next to the old haunted house. After the service a wrinkled old lady with frizzy white hair came up to me. In a raspy voice she told me, “There’s a bear in there. And a chair as well. And people with games. And stories to tell. Open wide, come inside.” As she walked away she had a sly smile on her face and a glint in her eye.

Ever since that day I have waited for the day I turned twenty. Today is that day, and I stand at the gate of the old haunted house. It beckons me closer. As I open the gate I hear a ferocious roar that makes the hair on my neck stand up. “There’s a bear in there.” The almighty roar echoes in my head as I inch toward the old haunted house.

I hear a long wooden moan that sounds like something being dragged along the floor. “And a chair as well.” I stop. For a chair to be dragged along the floor, someone must be moving it. As I ponder this I hear the gentle giggle of a young girl. “And people with games.” My hopes lift as I think my sister may be inside. I begin to creep toward the house again.

My heart skips a beat as I hear the same girl shriek. I am nearly at the steps that lead to the door. I can hear some gentle talking from upstairs. “And stories to tell.” 

Every wooden floorboard creaks as I slowly approach. I stand outside the old haunted house, mesmerized by this door in front of me. The door loudly creaks as it opens all by its self. “Open wide.” There is a hush. The gentle chatter from upstairs has stopped. The bear isn’t roaring and the chair makes no sound. I stand still, but the house beckons me in…… “Come inside.”