Haunted

Haunted House

I know it's pretty boring to begin with, but it does get better; honestly. I hope you enjoy my work more then my English teacher did.

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As I walked up the few steps to the old library, I asked myself again how it was that I'd become the only one to actually turn up for setting this place up for the annual Hallowe'en haunted house. I knew not many people would show up when they discovered it involved real work, and everyone else didn't get up before 12 o'clock on Saturdays anymore. So here I was; standing outside the old library, just hoping at least one more person would show up.

Ten minutes later I had to face facts: no one else was coming any time soon. Turning around to face the old library, with it's chipped, faded yellow paint and huge Victorian door, I realized just how much work would have to be put in, to make this place habitable in time for Hallowe'en. Letting myself into the big main room, I thanked my lucky stars I'd gotten the keys, which was, admittedly, one of the only reasons I was still here.

Looking around, I let out a small, horrified noise. There were huge bookcases, full of books, everywhere, along with several large boxes, probably full of books too. And all of this was caked in dust, no doubt most of which had been collecting for years. The next thing I noticed was the walls. They were a sickly shade of green, ad the lighting did nothing to help make it look any better. In fact, I think the lighting made it seem worse. The floor was fine, if a little dusty. It was hardwood and would look pretty good after a good dose of polish.

I let out an exasperated sigh and got to work, taking books out of bookcases to make them easier to move, which I'd need help with because there was no way I could move them myself. This task soon became tedious so I tried to move some of the boxes out of the way. I guessed there were books in them but it felt more like bricks, so I only moved a few before I gave up.

Looking at my watch, I realized I'd been at this for a while and maybe it was time for a break. Just then I heard a strange noise: it sounded like someone ripping up floorboards and banging them against a bookcase. I went to go investigate but found nothing, so I was ready to give up on it all and go home, when the ground started shaking and tilting every which way.

The floor gave a shuddering buck under my feet and I fell, hitting my head on one of the bookcases. I blacked out.

The next thing I remember is waking up on the floor, with a splitting headache starting up between my eyes. I opened my eyes and sat up but had to close them again. I opened my eyes once more but it hadn't done anything. The library looked completely different. I must be dreaming, I thought to myself. The walls were a beautiful pale cream colour, the floor was perfectly polished, there were no boxes, no dust and the bookcases were all aliened; not one out of place.

By now I'd fully convinced myself I was dreaming; It'd hit my head very hard and I was dreaming. But it all seemed so real. No, I told myself, the library is a wreck: there is no way this is real. I decided I'd wait out here until I woke up in the real library, but after 10 minutes, I got bored. Maybe a little exploring would be beneficial; see just what my brain had made of this place while I was sleeping.

I soon discovered the rest of the library was much the same as the big main room: everything was beautiful and I found myself wishing I could make the library look just like this place my subconscious had conjured up.

Even with the library being so beautiful however, I soon got bored of this too and decided it would also be beneficial to leave the library; see what I'd imagined the town to be like. As I set out into the blazing sun, I shielded my eyes, watching the few people troll by. Their clothes seemed slightly out of date, but that didn't really concern me; there was many a night everyone would be wearing 19th century costume in my dreams.

Just as the library had been, the town was amazing. There was only one or two cars on the road and they seemed like something my Granddad would have driven as a young man, if he had driven, which he hadn't. In fact, the square looked exactly like it had in a picture I'd seen in my Granddad's old scrapbooks. That's when it hit me: my mind had taken me back to the very same town but back when my Granddad had been young.

I spotted a young man and ran over to him; maybe he'd be able to shed some light on why I was here.

"Excuse me!" I shouted, suddenly realizing I must seem very odd, but it was my dream; so why not play along? "Could you tell me what date it is? I seem to have forgotten my.....day planner!"

"Why, yes: it's the 5th of June." he replied cheerfully.

"What year?"

"1925", he told me, giving me a funny look. "Are you alright? You can't be that reliant on your day planner, can you?"

"No, of course not, I just got a bit confused for a second. All better!"

"Can I ask your name? I don't think I know you." he asked, squinting at my as the fierce sun light impaired his vision slightly.

"Sure. I'm Annie Dawson. What's your name?"

"I'm Thomas Dawson. Friends call me Timmy."

"Really? That's my Granddad's name." I exclaimed, a little too enthusiastically. 

"What a coincidence. Well, I must be off. It was lovely to meet you, Annie."

"And you." I shook his hand and watched him walk away, all the while thinking; I've just met my Granddad, in a dream, while sleeping in an old library. How weird!

I walked around for a bit longer, getting funny looks from people, because of my clothes, I guess. I suppose I did look odd to them. I'd been walking around for hours and it was getting dark when I got tired so, since it was the only place I could go right now, I made my way back to the library. I thought it was odd I hadn't woken up yet but I wasn't worried.

It was hours later, after I'd woken from a deep sleep, sitting on a chair in the library that I started to worry. I didn't think I could fall asleep in a dream, even one as real as this. I pinched myself lightly, then harder, but that didn't work, which was weird: it normally did.

I'd been in the library for nearly two whole days, when if finally hit. The weird noises, the floor tilting and shuddering, the crazy long dream, meeting my Granddad in 1925. I'd gone back in time! I know it sounds crazy but once I thought it, I knew it was true. I'd never been more sure of anything in my life. 

I was really getting worried when the floor started shuddering and making the same noise as before. I was going home and I was delighted. I fell again, hit my head and woke up in the old library again. I never thought I'd be so happy to see a ruined old library in my life.

I immediately checked the time and date; just to be sure. And, yes, it was six o'clock, Saturday, 14th October. I found my phone in one of the boxes I woke up next to and texted my mother to come get me as soon as possible: there was no way I was going through that again.

That night I hugged my parents, telling them both I loved them. I slept soundly that night, just happy to be in the here and now. I also vowed I'd be the last to go into that library again. Never again, as long as I lived, did I ever want to do that again. As interesting as it was, it was also terrifying. That night I dreamed of Granddad and wondered if he ever found out it was his  time-travelling Granddaughter that he'd met all those years ago. He was, after all, the one who'd come up with my name and insisted my mother consider it often enough that she agreed to name me Annie just to get him off her back.