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Cleaning the Attic

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Cleaning the attic Lettie gazed out of the car window with unwavering attention onto the surroundings of her new home. It was a solid, modern looking house with newly painted rendered finish on the outside, and a big garden with tall cut hedges, portraying different animals. Entering the building was a different world, the exact opposite of what you would have imagined it to be. Old beams were embedded into the ceiling and the doors were abnormally low. But it was friendly and contained a lot of character. It was seven o'clock on a Monday morning when Lettie was aroused by her loud alarm. She was nervous as most teenagers would be when they were starting a new school. However she was excited about exploring her new house after lessons were over. The school was a ten minute walk from the house, and as she strolled along, hands in pockets, she imagined herself the next week walking with a cheerful group of friends. The first few lessons were boring and she found it intolerable to concentrate. As the other GCSE students realised there was a new girl about, they all kept asking her questions. She felt less forlorn. However when a tall, skinny girl asked Lettie if she lived nearby, then everything went down the drain. At first she didn't know what she had said wrong, possibly it was that she had got the wrong name of the village that she was now living in. ...read more.


Panting and dishevelled, she sprinted down the stairs. The shock hit her like an icey cold blizzard. The words rung and echoed over and over again in her head, "You live in that house". She didn't know whether to tell parents or not, but she was afraid that doing that might make it angry. She had been completely shaken, however some of her wanted to see it again. Lettie had never believed in ghosts or spirits before, and the sudden sighting had changed her mind and her curiosity had been aroused. The following night, as she stayed silent and concealed in the safety of her room, she wondered should she or shouldn't she go back to the attic? It was a hard question but a simple answer. She wanted to go up and find out more; it would be edgy but quite exciting all the same; she didn't care about school the next day. After a long period of time, listening outside her parent's door, she was finally satisfied that they were fast asleep, and sneaked up the stairs quietly. There it was, that same door lying slightly ajar just ahead of her. Determination overcame the butterflies in her stomach. Inhaling deeply, she held her breath and walked into the dark, mysterious room. Lettie walked further and further into the room, slowly approaching the bizarre painting. She could see it now but the image was gone. ...read more.


But sure enough as she turned back to face her Sony laptop, she was frozen to the chair. There, right in front of her were the keys tapping away, letters haunted her desktop and a message of warning grew. She hastily tried different methods of stopping it, turning the laptop off, pressing the back space and delete button, but all it did was laugh at her. Nightmare after nightmare was just emerging, wrapping her up in them, helplessly. She was abandoning this house, now. Armed only with a phone, Lettie ran through the woods, scrambling over protruding tree roots and dodging between clumps of nettles. Grazing her legs and arms she tore through the trees. Her parents' last words echoed through her head, "Darling have a good day at school". An infinite spectrum of possibilities raced around her mind, as the branches clawed her face. There was no time for puzzling over explanations. Lurching forward as ivy strangled her ankles, she lay on the muddy ground, winded. Feeling the presence of somebody behind her, she scrambled to her feet, ran forward and then halted; there he was standing now right in front of her. She didn't want to believe what her friends had told her, but the truth rang in her ears. Lettie sharply spun round, as a gust of wind and tornados of leaves hit her and then stopped. Nothing was to be seen or heard apart from the gentle hooting of an owl in the distance. The silence was a blood-curdling scream of anguish, set out to break a soul. Finally, he was gone. ...read more.

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