As an incentive / threat / reward for my eldest to write a good story for her English homework, I told her that if I liked the story, I would publish it here. Being her father, of course I liked it. And a promise is a promise. So now - unassisted, unedited and untouched, I present - "The Old Trunk":
Stepping out into the black eerie night, I stopped and I stared as a black blurry shadow towers upon me. Broken bricks, cracked, cobwebbed windows, a damaged roof and a battered door. Suddenly, the door swung open.
"Hello?" My voice echoed throughout the house. Should I go in or should I stay outside? Do I explore or stand under the black blanket? Is it safe or should I turn around and go home? It reminds me of a film I watched last night, but surely ghosts don't exist?
Step by step, I cautiously crept into the house. Every movement I made, every breath I took was heard in every dusty corner of the room. My nose was feeling itchy, there was dust everywhere. The mould felt damp and I thought that the house would collapse on top of me!
Out of the corner of my eye, down the long dark hallway, I saw a large, brown, dusty, trunk covered in cobwebs and hairy tarantulas. I wonder what is in there? Could there be gold and silver, or could there be evil ghosts inside, trapped, waiting for someone to set them free from the old abandoned trunk.
Slowly and steadily, I nervously walk up to the trunk. Half of me was saying to open it, the other half was saying don't. What if something happens when I open it? On the other hand, it could be to my benefit. I placed my hand on the top of the trunk.
What was that?
Is anyone there?
I slowly got up. I was shaking. I headed towards the door.
I left and never looked back.