There is a mansion
Three hours by food from town
Nobody knows how long its been there or who lives in it
Rumours said it was haunted
A group of friends decided it would be fun
To visit that mansion one day
As a game
A test of courage
But, how courageous could they be?
When they arrived, they noticed that the outside was clean
The garden tended
Not a single autumn leaf out of place
And not a single speck of dirt was to be found on the eggshell white outer walls of the mansion
"Maybe somebody does live here" A boy stated, folding his arms over his well built chest.
"Don't be ridiculous," Another responded, sighing
When they entered, they found that the inside too had been clean
Swept and mopped
Dusted and polished
No dust was to be found on the pure white tables
Pure white walls
Or the pure white chairs
The friends decided it would be best
To split up into groups of two or three
To cover more ground
A mistake on their part
Soon, gunshots were heard
Running, a boy named Felliciano came frantically down the halls
A big, grey, THING chasing after him
Its large, muscular arms flapping behind it as it ran
Teeth, as sharp as razors, lined its gapping mouth
Which remained open as it let out a blood curdling screech
Its eyes
Big black orbs full of darkness
Despair
And lost hope
Finally, it caught up to the boy
Painting the white walls a shade of crimson red
Another boy, the lone survivor
Sat alone
Huddled in a bedroom closet
Alone and afraid
Full of fear
Anxiety
And sorrow
A thud was heard next to the boys head
He turned and saw it
A spirit
The spirit of his friend, Felliciano
His body was mangled and deformed
Nerves and muscles ripped and hanging like threads from his open wounds
Chains were wrapped around his wrists
Bounding him to the floor
Like a prisoner
And his eyes....
Solid black
Just like the monsters
A scream
And then the white closet was splattered red
There is a mansion
Three hours by floor from town
NOBODY lives there
YOU ARE READING
The Poems of a Young Suicidal Girl
PoetryAfter almost a three year mental break...I am back, and, here to stay. And, although I am much better and not thinking these horrid thoughts anymore...I am keeping the name...Keeping the poetry, but, now I am going to write about me. My life story...
