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Ghost Story

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Strangely, the first object Tiffany caught, as she entered the hotel room she had just checked into, was a painting, which was around 1 metre width, and the length about 1 1/2 metres long; a ship in the rough, raging, rip-roaring sea weather, she could almost taste the salty sea, and feel the water blast against her skin, and the force of the wind strike across her face, like someone slapping her over and over again. The dark, gloomy colours of blue and grey gave her a sense of torture and suffering, which Tiffany did no expect to feel that night. As she began to touch the fabric on the painting she could encounter the temperature of the room rise. ...read more.


Her long, curly, thick, dark brown hair, with a tint of rich red and a berry, tea and orange flower sense, covers her beautiful, complexioned face. Tiffany unusually had three freckles on her left cheek, in a shape of a triangle. She wore little makeup: mascara and a small amount of peach blusher. While Tiffany was glaring outside the window, she noticed a sudden weather change. It was originally a boiling, blistering, summer's day, which converted into a showery, stormy evening. She then turned away from the window, as the weather was depressing her; the first thing she observed was the painting, that was at first straight, had been titled to it's right side. ...read more.


The door was locked. She ran to the old fashioned, white window, which was locked too. She grabbed the little red, rooms phone, to ring reception. ' Please press 1 if you wish to stay in the room, or 2 if you would like the easy way out.' There, standing with assurance, behind her, was a rope. Tiffany walked slowly and extremely uncomfortably towards it, she reached her hand out, shaken. She felt the bumpy edges of the rope, mean the rope was. She could see old stains of blood, this wasn't the first time this rope had been used. Her heart beating rapidly over and over again. 'No!' Tiffany shouted at the top of her voice, and grabbed an ancient Vodka bottle and fell on the sofa. 'Tiffany,' a voice called. 'Tiffany,' 'who's there?!,' Tiffany explained in fear. 'Someone to help,' replied the voice, 'turn around,' ...read more.

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