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Writing to explore, imagine, entertain.

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WRITING TO EXPLORE, IMAGINE, ENTERTAIN. 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. ...read more.


"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 away. They were at the door, the only sound was the pounding of their hearts and their breath. ...read more.


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 corridor. ...read more.

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