As I slowly climbed the long, steep staircase, the only sound was my labored breathing and the mournful creak of the wooden stairs. A terrible sickening fear came over me. This was a place where has the dirty wall of spider web; the cement floor without tiles; the unstable water temperature of the bathroom in winter; and the smelly domestic animals in the backyard? This seems like a nightmare to me a few years ago.
However, I gradually fit in this kind of life as a city girl. During these years, I learned all of the house work. In the morning, I get up at 6 and started to prepare the food for chicken and my dog, Pawpaw. I would never learn the techniques of preventing the neighbour’s chicken stealing the food in the city, or how to get
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Nothing in the barn. I fought with my tears when I stood in that clean empty room. I went back to my room and rolled up myself in the quilt like a couch potato. Finally, my tears dropped down and sobbed quietly. Pawpaw came to my side and gave me a lick just like a comfort when I need it the most. “I couldn’t lose you.” I gave him a big hug tightly. Though I was in a thundering rage, I didn’t pick a fight against them. Instead, I chose to ignore and forget what had happened.
The sun was setting behind low, gray-blue storm clouds. This is the worst day in my life. The sounds of sirens awakened the still roads. A blinking red light from the truck’s turn-signal illuminated our darkened home. I shielded behind the curtain and clenched my fingernails in my palm. You are being put into a cage with a collar on your neck. A stranger took over you and got n his car. I peeked at your figure through the window and bite my lips until you vanished in the corner of the street. The world went blurred.
Why didn't I prevent while you were being sent? I watched you when your new host put you in the cage. You said nothing. Timidly, with a sort of hurt, hunted looked in your eyes. I wanted them brought to count. My grandparents’ faces are written guilt. I looked back, my face impassive and expressionless. “He would be suitable in the forest. We sent him to a forest ranger,” they said in a calm
I stepped in and was shook by the loud music that was playing, now I can’t even hear myself think. As i walked through, the tension grew greater every time I turned a creepy corner, where I thought someone was waiting to scare me out of my skin. Most of the time though, there were people dressed up as fiction characters screaming in my face making me jump. It felt like this went on forever as there were so many twists and turns to walk through. Then, we went through a part of the house that used some sort of inflatable which pushed on both sides of you. Me, scared of what's to come, I ended up crawling on the ground. This was much worse than walking because the ground was made up of rocks. As we reached the end of the walk-through I could see the light which was a huge relief. When I got out, it wasn’t where I came from, it was a door to another haunted house. Why many people pay to go back to where they just got scared is unusual, but there is an actual reason for this allure of fear when being scared over and over again. Being scared makes a situation more intense, and these time are more
My father, the noble Banquo and I were riding through the Burnam woods on our weekly expedition to the central market, where we pick up food. We had made the journey countless times prior to this, each time it was the same, uneventful ride. But not this time. This time felt different to all the others. The trip lacked the peaceful ambiance which usually accompanied it. This was no reason for concern so we continued riding. After a brief period of time, when we were approximately midway through the woods, I heard something. It was the rustling of leaves, and what sounded voices. This was abnormal for the woods, for the reason that no one ever came in this deep, it’s barren, pointless. I told my father what I had heard, but he was dismissive
Do you have a very important memory that you are sure will never leave your head? Well, um.. I do! This memory that i’m about to tell you about is very, very important to me. Every year we used to go to my Pawpaw’s for thanksgiving. It was so much fun. We would all get to his house and go inside. My Pawpaw basically lived in his garage! When we would get to his house, guess where he was! His garage! We would go say hi and what for more people to get to his house. My Mawmaw would make the best food ever! When more people got to there house we would go inside and eat. They had two tables and the kids would sit at one and the adults would sit at the other one. Well, it was time to get my food. I got my food. One thing that I got was mashed potatoes
I heard a blood-curdling scream and I jumped. I felt silent tears running down my heavily scarred face, but they weren’t out of sadness. Mostly. They were a mixture of pain and fear. I ran into the eerie, blood-splattered room and screamed as I felt cold fingers grab my neck.
1.)In the beginning of the story the family Is gathered next to the fire with the old soldier playing chess.Everyone became Interested In the soldiers life stories, At first he was not interested In disclosing information about this monkey's Paw. The soldier told the family the story about the paw and how much misfortune it had caused him.Then he goes to toss it into the fire.But the father was willing to take the gamble and save the monkey's paw. The father has the personality of a gambler or risk taker to me at this point.He was also desperate.
“That’ll do this batch, Paw.” Announced Earl as he tightened the lid on the last jug of shine for the night’s run. As he added it to the others in the back of his beat up Ford pickup, he glanced over at his sleeping dad haphazardly leaned up against an oak tree, his chest rumbling with a drunken snore. All too often, this was the way their nights played out; Earl would work the stills while Paw would drink until he passed out, leaving him to finish up for the night, but he never complained to his father; he understood what led to his Paw’s nightly search for the bottom of that mason jar. As he climbed into the back of the truck to make sure the delivery was covered and tied down, safe and secure, Earl considered how important this particular run was, the moneys raised that night would be used to pay the land taxes, thus protecting both their homes and their main income, these stills for the next year.
When she finished with her morning ritual, I took her into the house, gave her a pat on the head, and grabbed my running shoes. My mind was still empty as I walked to my car, hit the automatic unlock button, and put the key in the ignition. I turned the key one click and the electric system forced the radio to blast into my ears. Simultaneously, thoughts I wasn’t aware were there came to the surface as I listened to Cutting Crew sing “I Just Died in Your Arms Tonight.”
It was bare, nothing but an overgrown jungle of brown grass and weeds. Maybe, it had scared everyone away, leaving the house abandoned and neglected; I certainly wouldn’t have wanted to stay there knowing what’s inside. However, that was the exact reason I had to go in. Turning my sights from the garden, I faced the front where the entrance to the house was staring right at me. It was morphed into a vertical maze as twisted vines wrapped their tentacles around the door.
I realized that the moans were not from the boards, rather they came from inside of the house. And that it was not something making the noise, rather someone. As I slowly approached the house, my steps seemed to get heavier, my heart pounded harder, and the knot in my stomach pulled so tightly that it sent a sharp pain down my spine. I shook it off, and layed my foot on the creaky wooden staircase; I had never been this close to the house, and now, it was right under the soles of my feet. The inside, ironically, was in much better condition than the outside.
I stood at the end of the driveway with a bag of clothes and my little sisters by my side. My dad pulled up, we got in the truck, and we drove about 10 minutes until we got to his shop. This would seem like a normal day, but things were different this time. We weren 't at the shop to ride the four wheelers around or to play basketball in the garage or to mess with the pinball machines. There was a gloomy feel about everything around us. Even though I didn’t say anything, I knew things were changing.
Now, I don’t believe much in the extrasensory, but I distinctly remember having a bad, bad feeling when my mother traversed the last step. Whatever this premonition may have been, it had me at my feet and waiting at the bottom of the stairs for a scream I already knew was coming.
When the lonely puppy got to his new home, he was scared. He wondered, “Where am I? Where is my mom? Are my brothers and sisters here? ”. Aden's house was huge. There were so many things to sniff, and lots of items to chew on. The lonely puppy started to cry. Aden picked him up and brought him to his mom. “Mom, why is he crying?” he asked. “He’s sad that he’s away from his family. Maybe you can cheer him up by giving him a name,” she suggested. “Great idea!” he
Oh Sh*t! The door slams shut in my face, and suddenly I am stuck in a tight, dark room, where I can’t even move my arms to be able to scratch my nose. It feels as if I have been buried alive, as if I am stuck in a coffin. Every second goes by painfully, seconds feel like hours, and minute’s feel like days.
Frost, the only thing I saw out my bedroom window, kept me focused on my homework. Temperatures dropping so rapidly, it dropped twenty- five degrees in an hour. The temperatures, frigid, plumbing to negative fifteen by the time it was over. Sunday nights are for the procrastinators to do their homework, surprisingly, one is me. Suddenly cellphone vibrations filled the room, it was from one of my classmates. The picture message downloaded for a few minutes, and it stated, “If you think this girl is a w****, s***, and a b**** forward this on.” I sat there in a moment of silence, mice scurrying up and down the walls. Being a junior high student, I really didn’t put much though into it. You don’t think for your future you think for the time now. The message referred to one of my ex girlfriends, so that made me forward it on with out any thought. Making that decision shocked me for what awaited me at school the next day.
The reckless driver hit us straight on, then “Bang!” a loud noise resonated through the air, and abruptly my body flew out and hit the pavement of the road. Everything around me was simply a white haze for a few seconds after the impact. My body felt extremely heavy and the sharp pain throbbed throughout my face and body. Lying there on the rough asphalt, I faintly heard my mom and Carrie call out to me, “Sydney! Sydney! Are you okay? Answer me! Sydney!” I wanted I speak up and answer them, nonetheless, it was useless, my voice just wouldn’t make a sound. The desperation in Carrie’s and my mom’s voices reverberated to me across from where I was lying. My mom frantically ran up to my side and hugged me tightly in her arms. Blood was squirting out of her pinky, where the top of her finger had been severed. The places where my mom’s tears fell, stung my wounds, nevertheless, it was nothing compared to each little movements that caused the pains to electrify through my body severely. Every second was hell, the pain was just utterly agonizing and tormenting. Whether it was due to the pain or the exhaustion my body suffered, my mind slowly drifted off and I couldn’t keep my eyes open any longer. As my eyes gradually closed, the blazing siren seemed to have grown louder little by