Morgan Hunt
Draft 2
May 29, 2009
After persuading my mother all week, days of bragging at school, two hours preparing, and with all the excitement that built up before this moment, we were finally at the haunted house.
The air nips my skin, goose bumps crawl up my arms, but I can’t tell if it’s from the cold or merely because I'm nervous. The Nantucket fog mists above our heads, and eerie blanket, if only it could be used to cover our eyes. I glance around cautiously; the fairly large crowd waiting to enter the haunted house is all in costume, from gruesome goblins to enchanting princesses. It is hard to point out people I know, even though at school they all boasted how they would be here. However, I stand close to the one I recognize, Lillie, in which I came here with.
Finally our time has come and we enter the forsaken house. A dense brume looms around us and I can only see a vague outline of my feet. The lights are dim and flickering, I swear I can almost feel my pulse going through my veins. We are led farther in, walls with cobwebs surround us, and we pass an old rotting coffin, with what seems to be the remains of some dead bride.
"Gross!" Lillie whispers in my ear. I jump. Her voice startled me, and I keep my head down, embarrassed that such a thing would scare me at my tall age of six. I should be brave and bold, nothing in this house should scare me, I am strong and big, I am invincible, although inside I feel as timid as a field mouse caught in a lions paw.
In front of us, stretches two options: a left hallway and a right hallway. Lillie and I both turn left. We walk by a table that is arranged with what seems to be a sullied skull, jars of body parts like eyes and ears, noses, and different sizes of fingers. As I brush by, trying my hardest to hold a straight stern face, walking ever so slowly, calm as I can be, determined to hold my poise, something from under the table grabs my ankle. I scream. Jolting towards Lillie, I claim that I didn't want to lose her in the mist, for I knew if I did she would have nightmares later. She believes the quick lie, and I proceed in acting as if I can handle the world.
We were brought to a set of stairs, going down into what I assumed was the basement; the last place I would want to be. My first step down replies with a piercing screech from the creaky wooden stairs, and I wince. I feel as though the boards beneath me are going to break, so I hold my breath on my way down. The thick haze clouds my vision, and not far off can I hear a simple, soft, yet direful croon. I follow the chants, into another dim room which has three tall figures in it, hovering about a large cauldron. As soon as they hear us enter the room, they turn around ending their harmony with deep devilish laughs.
"How are you darlings?" Says the tall one, her voice low yet thunderous.
No one replies, instead we all stare at the three witches with eyes of fear and wonder. I try to subtly hide behind Lillie without her noticing. She doesn't, but one of the witches does and calls me out on it.
"Are you afraid my child?" The witch asks shakily.
I nod my head no, and pray she leaves me alone. All I hope to do is get out of this house alive, nothing more and nothing less.
"Oh really?" she inquires. "Than how about you come over here little one, if you are so brave. Come stand next to our great big pot; maybe even stir it if you like."
I hesitate, and suddenly I realize all eyes are on me. My heart is beating through my skin, I don't want to go over near those witches but at the same time I don't want to seem like a weakling.
"Oh come here darling, we won’t bite.” She insists.
I slowly begin to make my way over to them, my hands trembling. They tell everyone about their new recipe, how it will make them live forever, and how happy they are that they have found their last ingredient; a little girl. Thoughts race through my mind, could they be referring to me? Wasn't this supposed to be a pretend haunted house? What are they going to do!? The tallest witch strokes my hair, glances down at me and informs me "Are you proud to be such an important little morsel?" She laughs a wicked laugh, and I wish only that god could save me from this horrific lady.
Before I have much time to think, we are heading up the same stairs we went down, and we are leaving out the back door. A big air of relief comes over me and I realize that maybe it was all just pretend. That maybe I over reacted, and maybe, just maybe they really weren't going to use me in their recipe. My heart slows down back to normal tempo and Lillie tells me how brave she thought I was, and how she would have cried. I tell her it was nothing, though inside I knew it took all my might to try to stay calm. I knew really that if I had the chance, if it wasn't for the embarrassment, that I would have gladly ran away screaming, never turning back.
29.5.09
26.5.09
english short story.
After persuading my mother all week, days of bragging at school, two hours preparing, and with all the excitement that built up in the time before this moment, we were finally at the haunted house.
The air nips my skin, goose bumps crawl up my arms, but I can’t tell if it’s from the cold or merely because I'm nervous. The Nantucket fog mists above our heads, and eerie blanket, if only it could be used to cover our eyes. I glance around cautiously; the fairly large crowd waiting to enter the haunted house is all covered in costumes, from scary goblins to pink princesses. It is hard to point out people I know, (even though at school they all boasted how they would be here) however I stand close to the one I recognize, Lillie, in which I came here with.
Finally our time has come and we enter the forsaken house. A dense brume looms around us and I can only see a vague outline of my feet. The lights are dim and flickering, I swear I can almost feel my pulse going through my veins. We are led farther in, walls with cobwebs surround us, and we pass an old rotting coffin, with what seems to be the remains of some dead bride.
"Gross!" Lillie whispers in my ear. I jump. Her voice startled me, and I keep my head down, embarrassed that such a thing would scare me at my tall age of six. I should be brave and bold, nothing in this house could scare me, I am strong and big, I am invincible, although inside I feel as timid as a field mouse caught in a lions paw.
In front of us, are a left hallway and a right hallway, in which we choose our own direction. Lillie and I both turn left. We walk by a table that is arranged with what seems to be a sullied skull, jars of body parts like eyes and ears, noses, and different sizes of fingers. As I brush by, trying my hardest to hold a straight stern face, something from under the table grabs my ankle. I scream. Jolting towards Lillie, I claim that I didn't want to lose her in the mist, for I knew if I did she would have nightmares later. She believes the quick lie, and I proceed in acting as if I can handle the world.
We were brought to a set of stairs, going down into what I assumed was the basement; the last place I would want to be. My first step down is replied with a piercing screech from the creaky wooden stairs, and I wince. I feel as though the boards beneath me are going to break, so I hold my breath on my way down. The haze is thicker down here, and not far off can I hear a simple, soft, yet direful croon. I follow the chants, into another dim room which has three tall figures in it, hovering around a large cauldron. As soon as they hear us enter the room, they turn around ending their chants with deep devilish laughs.
"How are you darlings?" Says the tall one, her voice low yet thunderous.
No one replies, instead we all stare at the three witches with eyes of fear and wonder. I try to subtly hide behind Lillie without her noticing. She doesn't, but one of the witches does and calls me out on it.
"Are you afraid my child?" The witch asks shakily.
I nod my head no, and pray she leaves me alone. All I hope to do is get out of this house alive, nothing more and nothing less.
"Oh really?" she inquires. "Then how about you come over here little pretty, if you are so brave. Come stand next to our great big pot, maybe even stir it if you like."
I hesitate, and suddenly I realize all eyes are on me. My heart is beating through my skin, I don't want to go over near those witches but at the same time I don't want to seem like a weakling.
"Oh come here darling, we won’t bite.” She insists.
I slowly begin to make my way over to them, my hands trembling. They tell everyone about their new recipe, how it will make them live forever, and how happy they are that they have found their last ingredient; a little girl. My thoughts are racing, could they be referring to me? Wasn't this supposed to be a pretend haunted house? What are they going to do!? The tallest witch strokes my hair, glances down at me and informs me "Are you proud to be such an important little morsel?" She laughs a wicked laugh, and I wish only that god could save me from this terrible lady.
Before I have much time to think, we are heading up the same stairs we went down, and we are leaving out the back door. A big air of relief comes over me and I realize that maybe it was all just pretend. That maybe I over reacted, and maybe, just maybe they really weren't going to use me in their recipe. My heart slows down back to normal tempo and Lillie tells me how brave she thought I was, and how she would have cried. I tell her it was nothing, though inside I knew it took all my might to try to stay calm. I knew really that if I had the chance, if it wasn't for the embarrassment, that I would have gladly ran away screaming, never turning back.
The air nips my skin, goose bumps crawl up my arms, but I can’t tell if it’s from the cold or merely because I'm nervous. The Nantucket fog mists above our heads, and eerie blanket, if only it could be used to cover our eyes. I glance around cautiously; the fairly large crowd waiting to enter the haunted house is all covered in costumes, from scary goblins to pink princesses. It is hard to point out people I know, (even though at school they all boasted how they would be here) however I stand close to the one I recognize, Lillie, in which I came here with.
Finally our time has come and we enter the forsaken house. A dense brume looms around us and I can only see a vague outline of my feet. The lights are dim and flickering, I swear I can almost feel my pulse going through my veins. We are led farther in, walls with cobwebs surround us, and we pass an old rotting coffin, with what seems to be the remains of some dead bride.
"Gross!" Lillie whispers in my ear. I jump. Her voice startled me, and I keep my head down, embarrassed that such a thing would scare me at my tall age of six. I should be brave and bold, nothing in this house could scare me, I am strong and big, I am invincible, although inside I feel as timid as a field mouse caught in a lions paw.
In front of us, are a left hallway and a right hallway, in which we choose our own direction. Lillie and I both turn left. We walk by a table that is arranged with what seems to be a sullied skull, jars of body parts like eyes and ears, noses, and different sizes of fingers. As I brush by, trying my hardest to hold a straight stern face, something from under the table grabs my ankle. I scream. Jolting towards Lillie, I claim that I didn't want to lose her in the mist, for I knew if I did she would have nightmares later. She believes the quick lie, and I proceed in acting as if I can handle the world.
We were brought to a set of stairs, going down into what I assumed was the basement; the last place I would want to be. My first step down is replied with a piercing screech from the creaky wooden stairs, and I wince. I feel as though the boards beneath me are going to break, so I hold my breath on my way down. The haze is thicker down here, and not far off can I hear a simple, soft, yet direful croon. I follow the chants, into another dim room which has three tall figures in it, hovering around a large cauldron. As soon as they hear us enter the room, they turn around ending their chants with deep devilish laughs.
"How are you darlings?" Says the tall one, her voice low yet thunderous.
No one replies, instead we all stare at the three witches with eyes of fear and wonder. I try to subtly hide behind Lillie without her noticing. She doesn't, but one of the witches does and calls me out on it.
"Are you afraid my child?" The witch asks shakily.
I nod my head no, and pray she leaves me alone. All I hope to do is get out of this house alive, nothing more and nothing less.
"Oh really?" she inquires. "Then how about you come over here little pretty, if you are so brave. Come stand next to our great big pot, maybe even stir it if you like."
I hesitate, and suddenly I realize all eyes are on me. My heart is beating through my skin, I don't want to go over near those witches but at the same time I don't want to seem like a weakling.
"Oh come here darling, we won’t bite.” She insists.
I slowly begin to make my way over to them, my hands trembling. They tell everyone about their new recipe, how it will make them live forever, and how happy they are that they have found their last ingredient; a little girl. My thoughts are racing, could they be referring to me? Wasn't this supposed to be a pretend haunted house? What are they going to do!? The tallest witch strokes my hair, glances down at me and informs me "Are you proud to be such an important little morsel?" She laughs a wicked laugh, and I wish only that god could save me from this terrible lady.
Before I have much time to think, we are heading up the same stairs we went down, and we are leaving out the back door. A big air of relief comes over me and I realize that maybe it was all just pretend. That maybe I over reacted, and maybe, just maybe they really weren't going to use me in their recipe. My heart slows down back to normal tempo and Lillie tells me how brave she thought I was, and how she would have cried. I tell her it was nothing, though inside I knew it took all my might to try to stay calm. I knew really that if I had the chance, if it wasn't for the embarrassment, that I would have gladly ran away screaming, never turning back.
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