A New Post

So for school today I had to write a story about a visit to a diversity, which is an old, old wooden ship used in the Civil War era. Haha actually, no. Enough rambling, because my stomach’s rumbling, and I must eat. I had to write about the discovery of some ancient pottery, a homeless child surviving on the streets in a large city, an idea of my own, or a visit to an old, abandoned house. I chose the visit to an old, abandoned house. I’ve never visited one myself, so I just made one up. Only read if you have time to kill. Which I’m sure you do, or else you wouldn’t be on this blog in the first place! Either that, you are my loyal friend, or think I will be hurt if I think you don’t want to keep up with the random happenings of my life. Did you ever expect me to put a story meant for school on here? I couldn’t say myself, because I’ve never thought of it. Anything is possible. Read on, if you please. PLEASE! – No pressure.

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While walking up the steps at twilight into the daunting building that was once a dwelling place to persons who are dead now, and which is now supposed to be haunted, I rummage through my handbag for a flashlight, to see through the soon-to-be darkness. I’m doing the very thing I’ve told myself and others would be the last thing I do – going into a haunted house. Truest thing I’ve ever said. My friends think it great fun to raid Victorian houses, most of the time because they have valuable objects, just waiting to be found, and other times because they think there’s nothing better to do, which is probably quite accurate in their miserable case. And when I refused, they gave me the label, quisling, and said in order to stay with them, I have to do what they say. And if I don’t, I become a fugitive. While lost in my pensive state, I don’t realize I have walked through the door already, of which my closest friend holds open for me, with a pathetic look on her face that says “I can’t do anything about it”. “Oh, thanks.” I say sarcastically. Little do I know, this will be the last time I see her. The others look queerly at me, as if half expecting me to run away. Presently, she closes the door, and I am alone. I stand still for a few moments, only breathing, to recollect my thoughts. I am to find an ornate locket of immense value that is rumored to have been hidden here sometime in the 1800’s. This is not to be a baleful event, but one which I receive my well earned respect from my “friends”. In thinking this, I experience an acute pain in the back of my head for a fraction of a second. I remember no more.

-Heidi...of course