Original Writing

Original Writing

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Original Writing

At the end of the corridor, the closed door was waiting. It had been
closed for many years. The room which patiently waited behind it had a
haunting past, but this evening the door had to be opened. It was
nearing the end of the eighteenth century. The door and it's long,
endless corridor were part of an enourmous country house, a very old
house which had seen many new family members, many deaths, many
betrayals and knew many secrets. The family decided it was time to
move on to a new place. Before they could sell, every room had to be
checked, yes, even that room!

The master of the houseand his eldest son made their way to the main
hall to start up the stairs, all the way to the top floor of four
floors. It was a long way, the eldest son, william, glanced out of the
window, a shadow set across the whole house. It was the end of the
day, night was setting in. Eventually the two had made their way up
the bright, richly coloured staircase and headed towardsthe dull,
faded corridor which led to that room. William had never before set
eyes on the corridor or

the door or that room. That's all his father ever said about the room
or it's corridor

"you shaln't go there William, you wouldn't want to find yourself
trapped in that room".

so for william this was a sort of adventure. What could have possibly
happened there? does his father know?

Right, they were at the top of the corridor, lots of terrible thoughts
scurried round William's mind as his eyes sped round the walls
examining, all of whom were dressed rather odly, very old fashioned.
He looked at one of the small gold name plates underneath, it read
`Lady Elizabeth Myres, 1642-1661`. William noticed that all these
people were family memberswho had passed away, long ago. William was
feeling quite wary over the corridor and the room, that room. Why was
this corridor covered with paintings of dead?

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Why not any other
corridor? It was like a corridor of death. William began to feel quite
odd. Tiny droplets of perspiration seeped from the pores of his palms,
his candle was shaking with his body, they walked on, the further they
walked, the more suspicious and wary he became. The voice in his head
was desparately trying to reassure him `it's just a room, how bad can
it be, its just a room`...it was no good.

On their way his father lit candles that were along the wall, they
made a flickering yellow glow, moths fluttered round them. There was a
cold, menacing wind which whistled slyly throught a few small cracks
in the ceiling, sending a chill right through william's body. There
was a noise. A footstep. Something falling. What was it? The tiny
hairs on the back of his neck stood up, droplets of sweat trickled
down his face, he turned to his father. Everything seemed fine.

"Did you hear that?", William said in a hurried whisper.

"Hear what? dont be sily boy" replied his father.

There was a nervousness in his voice but he didn't appear to be
afraid. He must known what lay in that room, or he must be very brave.
Little did william know that his father also, was thinking a thousand
terrible thoughts, his palms were clenched an sticky, the prickly tiny
hairs on the back of his neck were also standing on end, the little
voices were saying `you're a man , a father and a husband, its only a
silly room, how bad could it be?` But both of them knew it was that
room, that room they don't speak of, that room they dont go into.

The door which was sealing the room away from life or the outside
world was a huge, dark, heavy looking, intimidating, haunting old door
with a huge, heavy brass handle and a lock. Whoever used this room or
lived in this room liked to keep away, either that, or they were kept

They were at the door, the only sound was the pounding of their hearts
and their breath. The quiet was menacing. They both reached for the
handle, and as they pulled on it and twisted it, nothing happened.
They then, steadily and carefully turned it the other way and pushed.
It creaked open. There was no light inside , just darkness, and a
musty smell, a decayed smell. The two candle sticks which were being
carried made a dark yellow glow, the light clung to various features
of the room, a chair, a dressing table, abed. So this whole walk was
over a bedroom? William however knew there was something more to it,
something wasnt quite right about it, it could have been something in
the dusty old air but there was something almost tradgic about the
room. He turned to ask his father, only to realise his father had
gone! He looked just in time to see him hurridly turn the corner at
the end of the corridor. So if his father was gone...where was that
breathing sound coming from? the creaking?

There was absolutely nothing in the room exept old furnature and alot
of dust. William was curious so he went over to the dressing table and
opened one of the drawers, nothing but an old hair brush, exept it
didn't look old, it looked in perfect condition, there was not a speck
of dust in this drawer, everything was clean and well-kept. There was
a little music box at the back of the drawer, William opened it, it
played a sad tune, a very lonely unhappy tune. William noticed what
looked like droplets of blood inside the box, but there was nothing
else in it. He was very confused, what an odd thing to find in a box.
The music stopped...and a little compartment jerked open. It had a
little note inside it, just like everything else in the drawer it was
perfectly preserved. He opened it. He was shaking. To his horror it
was a suicide note. He had never seen one before but he knew it was.
It was by a girl, Elizabeth. It said how she had spend her whole
childhood locked away in this room, how her father wanted a son so he
sent her to that room to live a life of neglect. She was sent
leftovers from family meals and given second hand rags to keep herself
warm. She spoke of revenge, how she would punish a son in the myres
family, she was bitter and the time she spend in that room led her to
insanity. Suicide was her release from her cruel world but her angry
spirit lived on restlessly...waiting in that room until she could
fulfil her promise to herself. How could she resist the boy who had
walked so willingly into that room?

He dropped everything and ran to get away. He ran right into the
closed door. He violently rattled the handle...nothing. The door was
locked. No way out! He didn't even hear it close. He couldnt breathe.
He was gasping. The walls appeared closer.The room appeared to be
spinnig around him. His life seemed so far away, on the other side of
the door, which as always was waiting patiently at the end of the
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