Terror House

I ran. I ran through the fields and into the forest. Shivering, I stood still and felt the rain plummet onto my body. Snap! A twig broke behind me so I started to run yet again. Thunder rumbled and lightning streaked. I didn't want to run away in the middle of the  night while a storm was happening, but it was the only chance I got to escape my version of Hell; my so called home. Memories flickered through my mind as I ran further into the depths of the forest. Each time I saw my step-fathers face, I doubled over as if someone had punched me in the stomach. I attempted to shake the abusive thoughts out of my head, however they remained stuck there just like my scars.

The rain fell down and I slipped face first into a puddle. Laying there for a while, I sobbed and let the harsh rain smack my back. After I had finished crying, I stood up just to fall over yet again by the strength of the wind against me. I looked around in longing hope to find shelter. Just my luck. I saw a large house not too far away. I got up and ran towards it, wishing that some sweet old couple would live there and welcome me in.

Standing in the porch of this Manor House, I realised it was a lot different up close. It was dark and gringey. Covered with poison ivy vines. It smelt mouldy and musty. However, despite all this nothing stopped me from knocking on the door.

Knock. Knock. Knock. There was no answer. I knocked again and again but no sweet old couple welcomed me in. All hope started to fade away as I wiped dirt off the window with my sleeve there were no lights on. There was no one inside. I took out my pocket watch and read the time. 2:31 am. Maybe the house owner was asleep. I went back to the door and knocked again. Louder. Harder. This time the door opened and I stepped inside.

Walking further into the house a bolt of lightning outside showed me a candle and a match on the floor in front of me. I struck the match and watched the flame dance before burning the wick of the blood red candle. I called out, asking if anyone was about, but just like the knocking, there was no answer. I walked further int the house and through an arch way. The room I had entered was already lit with candles. It was a colossal room, and one end was not lit. I wandered over noticing a dripping sound coming from the wall. Holding up my candle I saw words. Words written in blood. GET OUT OR DIE. I dropped my candle just as a gust of wind blew every other one out. I heard the front door slam shut. I ran to it just to find that it was locked. So were the windows. There was no way out.

Falling to the ground, I started crying. Thoughts played in my mind about how I was going to die here and no one in my life would care. Once I had calmed down, I stood up and looked around for something that might help me to survive. I noticed a kitchen round the corner, so I walked over to see if there was food. The room smelt rotten and made me gag. I stepped over a dead rat on the ground and opened the cupboard. I screamed and jumped back. Had I really seen what I thought I had. Before looking again, I rubbed my eyes and pinched myself to check that I wasn't dreaming. It was not a dream. A bloody, crushed, manipulated head was lying on the floor. I got up and ran.

As I ran up the winding stairs I tripped on the last step and heard a menacing laugh. I screamed and just ran. I had no clue where where I was going but I kept running nonetheless. I definitely was no longer alone. I came to a halt as I saw steam coming from a bathtub surrounded by candles. Hands stroked my back. I sharply turned around, but no one was there, just darkness. I shuddered with fear and walked over to the bath tub. A tear rolled down my cheek as I saw a frail, discoloured version of my tiny baby sister lying there motionless. The water was stained red with the blood of my sisters neck. I didn't scream when I saw her. I couldn't. I just sat on the floor and cried. My sister was dead. It felt as if it was all my fault for leaving her when I ran away.

After a while, I stood up and left. I couldn't bare to see my sisters lifeless face any more. I wandered into what seemed like the master bedroom. The bed was grand and spectacular. I sat at the dresser and saw a pale red haired girl with bloodshot eyes and scars all over. Looking at my reflection, I noticed a dark hooded figure standing in the corner, staring at me. I jumped up and looked around. The figure was no where to be seen. I needed to leave the this place. Even my home, with my step-father, was better than this. It was lucky that I had wondered into this particular room, and not the many others, as there was a balcony. And the door to it was unlocked.

The weather was still miserable. The storm was still raging on. I stared into the distance as I breathed the fresh air. I had survived this terror house. For once I was happy to be alive. A smile started to form on my face as I found a key on the floor, and locked the balcony door. The hooded figure can't get me now.

The wind grew stronger and stronger, blowing the trees more and more. One tree was swaying towards me, getting ever so close to the house. I started to fear that it would fall on me, but I remembered God would not do that to me. It felt so good to no longer be in that house. Surely, nothing could go wrong now.

The wind was now stronger than ever, and I struggled to stay on my feet. Crack! My eyes shot open as a tree fell towards me and broke the house. But not just the house. The balcony too. It collapsed under my feet and I fell to the ground with it all. Bricks, tiles and wood landed on top of me. Then suddenly it just stopped. The wind stopped howling; the rain stooped falling; the house stopped breaking. Everything stopped. It was silent.

I stood up and looked around. I noticed that I had landed by a gravestone with an empty grave. My heart raced as I read what was on the headstone. Gemma Wood; my name. Died November 17 1875; today. I shrieked as I fell into the grave. However it became muffle. I was being buried alive.