The Haunted Mansion
2: The Revenge
I woke up the next morning, last night on my mind. I couldn’t sleep well.
I dragged my feet to the kitchen, where my mom was already getting my sister, Tori, ready. She was six, and very annoying.
My name is Megan. Some kids call me Meg for short, but I like Megan. I think it suits me fine.
I poured a bowl of Lucky Charms into a bowl, scarfing it down. My mom left for work and took Tori to daycare. She thought I wasn’t old enough or responsible enough to watch her while she was gone. I didn’t know why she thought that. On the bright side, I got the whole house to myself.
I threw on a jacket and pulled open the door. I had to go check out the mansion. I knew the hand thing that night was just to scare me away so I wouldn’t find out the real truth about that place. I just knew it.
A cold breeze blew at my face as I stepped down off of the doorstep and into the harsh November first air. It was a cold and breathtaking sight outside. The frost was just forming on the ground, making the grass shiny and made it look white. My breath came out in puffs like the caterpillar on Alice in Wonderland. Oh, I loved the cold. I was glad summer was over.
I walked through the snow in old gray sneakers and some blue-jean pants. They drug on the cold ground, getting the bottoms wet. I hugged the jacket around me so no cold breezes could get in.
I began walking to the end of the street.
When I saw the doors, my heart started to pound in my chest. My brain started sending me red flags, telling me I should turn away and go home. But I wasn’t so easily scared by stupid houses. I wanted to investigate and see what it was like on the inside.
As soon as I reached the porch, I took a breath for courage and pushed with all my might.
They didn’t budge.
So I tried pushing again, this time pushing harder with my shoulder.
Maybe it’s locked.
So I knocked.
The doors opened up quickly, sending a gust of wind towards me. Two gloved hands floated in front of me, moving the fingers like it was playing the piano. This wasn’t normal.
I gasped in horror as the hands flew towards me. The cold, clammy gloves picked me up by the waist, pulled me inside, and lifted me up to the ceiling.
“Aaah!”
I was terribly afraid of heights! I was about five meters high and going higher. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine, almost ten feet! The hands let go, and I fell to the ground. I let out a short yell before I hit the wood, hearing cracking and feeling sharp pain everywhere.
I wasn’t okay.
I dragged my feet to the kitchen, where my mom was already getting my sister, Tori, ready. She was six, and very annoying.
My name is Megan. Some kids call me Meg for short, but I like Megan. I think it suits me fine.
I poured a bowl of Lucky Charms into a bowl, scarfing it down. My mom left for work and took Tori to daycare. She thought I wasn’t old enough or responsible enough to watch her while she was gone. I didn’t know why she thought that. On the bright side, I got the whole house to myself.
I threw on a jacket and pulled open the door. I had to go check out the mansion. I knew the hand thing that night was just to scare me away so I wouldn’t find out the real truth about that place. I just knew it.
A cold breeze blew at my face as I stepped down off of the doorstep and into the harsh November first air. It was a cold and breathtaking sight outside. The frost was just forming on the ground, making the grass shiny and made it look white. My breath came out in puffs like the caterpillar on Alice in Wonderland. Oh, I loved the cold. I was glad summer was over.
I walked through the snow in old gray sneakers and some blue-jean pants. They drug on the cold ground, getting the bottoms wet. I hugged the jacket around me so no cold breezes could get in.
I began walking to the end of the street.
When I saw the doors, my heart started to pound in my chest. My brain started sending me red flags, telling me I should turn away and go home. But I wasn’t so easily scared by stupid houses. I wanted to investigate and see what it was like on the inside.
As soon as I reached the porch, I took a breath for courage and pushed with all my might.
They didn’t budge.
So I tried pushing again, this time pushing harder with my shoulder.
Maybe it’s locked.
So I knocked.
The doors opened up quickly, sending a gust of wind towards me. Two gloved hands floated in front of me, moving the fingers like it was playing the piano. This wasn’t normal.
I gasped in horror as the hands flew towards me. The cold, clammy gloves picked me up by the waist, pulled me inside, and lifted me up to the ceiling.
“Aaah!”
I was terribly afraid of heights! I was about five meters high and going higher. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine, almost ten feet! The hands let go, and I fell to the ground. I let out a short yell before I hit the wood, hearing cracking and feeling sharp pain everywhere.
I wasn’t okay.
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