There were no creepy feelings, no moving shadows down the hallways, no nothing. At first no one sensed anything out of the ordinary. Heck, I was already figuring out what food to bring.įour years ago, Liz and her family had moved from their smaller, older house across town to the current one. If we could conjure up a few promises of no drinking, no smooching, and the like, we would get our party. They could be pretty troublesome for us wild teens, but I told her not to worry.
I suggested using her massive basement, what with its pinball tables, TV, and stereo system.Īh yes, the parents. She and I had a reputation of being little party animals, and therefore we had to make this party as awesome as possible. Liz’s sixteenth birthday was a few weeks away, and we got onto the topic of what the party would be like. Sure it was a little too dark, but the weather was appropriately stormy, and that’ll make any place more than a little spooky. At just under 50 years old with 2 stories, 4 bedrooms, a massive basement area, and an equally huge backyard, the house was phenomenally beautiful. I had only been over to her place once or twice before, which even at the time I considered strange for best friends like us, but to a kid like me who had spent a good part of her life in apartments and military housing, the place was a dream. Like me, she was a storyteller, and storytellers just don’t hide that kind of thing.Īs luck would have it, I ended up spending an afternoon at Liz’s house to work on some project for Biology class. Liz and I were close, so close that people even mistook us for sisters, and were there any dark secrets about her house, I would have known. They were just whispers of things, ominous hints, and I brushed them aside fairly easily. The rumors about my good friend Liz’s house took their dear sweet time reaching me. Unless it comes looking for you, of course. The scariest part, to me at least, is that you’ll never know what is or isn’t there until you go have a look for yourself. The more you think about it, the more likely every possibility becomes as the shadows thicken and every stray noise or movement forces you deeper into your fear. I’m not terrified as I try not to notice my barely open closet door. The unidentified sound floating up from somewhere deep in my house doesn’t set my poor heart panicking. It’s not the darkness in my room that frightens me.
0 kommentar(er)
