Word Bank

The House

(This is a little more than one scene)
The boy with auburn hair and piercing green eyes stood in front of the house. He looked shaken with pure fear, although it was completely understandable. The house was a rundown mess of splinters and paint chips. There were a variety of woods and metals that were bent into different knots and arcs. In addition the lawn was yellow and brown, and cluttered with toys young children were to scared to grab once they were kicked or thrown into the dry-patched yard. The boy smelled mixtures of mold, water damage, and rotting animals that were under porches or squatting inside the house. And yet, the boy stood outside of the rusty fence, eyes wide, wondering why he kept standing in the same spot instead of walking away.

"Hello." A little girl wearing a yellow dress spoke. The boy turned with a gasp. Then he saw it was just the young child, and heaved a sigh of relief. The girl placed herself more than a foot away from the fragmented gate, and she wouldn't look at the house but, remained staring at the boy. She asked the boy if he knew why the house had been left in a rotting and putrid state. He said he didn't know. "The witch." The girl retorted. The boy just nodded his head and acted like he cared, even though this small child was very serious. The girl noticed that the boy in front of her seemed to be joking, so she began to tell the story.

Apparently a long time ago there lived a witch who inhabited a creepy looking shack. The witch was old and had a rough voice that sounded like she was gargling marbles, but she was also gifted with black magic. She would conjure spells that could kill millions. This witch was stopped by another witch, a good witch. The righteous creature ripped the soul from the evil necromancer. She tried with all her might, but alas, couldn't destroy the beaten and corrupted dark force. Her only choice was to put the essence into the wicked sorceresses house. All at once the decent looking building turned into a 3D image of what was inside the witches body.

The boy that heard the story was amazed by how a little girl could make up a story of such quality right on the spot. He was impressed but didn't take it as earnestly as the child intended. He rolled his eyes and gave a chuckle. The yellow dressed girl was infuriated that the boy didn't believe her. "Fine, you can make your own assumptions. But heed my warning, beyond that fence is terrible danger, I suggest you walk away while you have the chance." The girl spoke like she was older than she looked. Then quite quickly, she turned the same way she came and started to trudge off. The boy gave a huff of disbelief and looked back at the deteriorated residence. He thought about what the girl had said and shook his head for giving it a second notion. Suddenly he felt a strong urge to prove that the house was merely a house. Slowly he reached out and pulled the rickety fence back, hearing the squeak of rusty bolts. He sucked in a breath and stepped one foot past the opening, then another. He laughed and shrugged off the feeling of doubt. All the sudden a loud bang came from the inside of the house. A red rug came rolling out and hit the tip of the boys worn sneakers.

"You got to be kidding me." Were the last words from the boys mouth before the rug levitated off the ground and wrapped around his legs. The rug started shrinking back into the hovel, and the boy could only scream as his body was being dragged against the cracked cement. The boy, passed all his clawing and shouting, heard a rough voice. The voice seemed child like, yet gave the feeling of pure vice. In that moment, the boy could've sworn he saw a yellow dress. He thought about it as he tried to save himself. Maybe...and just maybe, the story that was told by the young girl was true. And perhaps, the girl told it from the most genuine point of veiw. Herself.