A Short Story : The Story Of A Ghost Story

One day, Jake saw a kid playing baseball, and Jake asked, “What is your name?”

“Wake up!” A familiar voice pierced the silent room as I jumped out of my bed, cold sweat running down my forehead. I looked towards my wooden bedroom door, which was being pounded by someone on the other side. It seemed like someone was trying to open it. In alarm, I got up and quickly made my way towards the door, immediately remembering that I had locked it last night. What a smart move, Juliet. I internally slapped myself as my eyes skimmed the room and landed on the keys on my nightstand.

Jonah was driving down the old road one late night when he experienced one of the most terrifying events in his life. He probably should have listened to his roommates stories. If he did, none of this would have happened. He would have realized that his roommate isn’t all that crazy after all.

“Keegan!” I yelled as I shot up from my slumber. The sunlight was soft against my skin, but my eyes burned and my body was shaking hysterically. Tears were streaming down my face and my breathing was erratic. The weight on my chest felt as if a grizzly bear decided to use me as his personal stool. I pulled my legs closer to my body and pressed my face into my hands.

It was just another ordinary day of 5th grade. It was cloudy outside, and we had heard about the severe weather that might come on the news. We just shooed the precautions away and forgot about it. That is, until it started storming. Bad idea. I was at my before school program, JCPRD. I sat with Anna, my best friend, peering out of the large, blue-tinted windows at the enraged clouds outside. They gushed rain and radiated lightning, illuminating our nervous faces. We were starting to get concerned. The distant, eerie roars of thunder filled our ears as the sheets of rain spilled from the roof and lashed the building. This seemed bad, but the situation only grew worse. My heart started to thud faster and louder as I walked to my classroom. The winds were whooshing louder and louder, and the thunder was growing more and more rapid.

It was only as Barry was slowing down to walking speed before entering the house that he realized he didn’t think about what he was going to say. That he was sorry? That everything was his fault? He needed to say it, but it wasn’t exactly going to make things any better. Looking down at the red costume he was wearing, he felt disgusted with himself and he just couldn't help but feel the urge to just rip the fabric on his skin. After all, he long lost the right to look like a hero; heroes don’t steal and kill people and they especially do not hurt their friends. Barry wasn’t the Flash anymore, he was an impostor.

This is a story about two cool boys who encountered an evil spirit that comes out every December 1st, to collect people's heads and keep them as trophies.

“I heard there was a rumor about the haunted house next to mine.” Carlos leans over and whispers in my ear.

It’s midnight and everyone is sleeping. We are in the dead of winter, but everything seems so empty. No lights are on. Cars are parked.

Janice Newman is a girl despised by all girls at her school. She is not like the other girls at her school, meaning that she is not as pretty, perfect, or good at school. She is overweight, short, greasy, and very ugly. This story will not be sugar coated, and everything will be very direct and true. Believe everything I write, because I saw everything.

“I’m gonna go to bed,” Will yawned, but the yawn was fake. Will walked to his room and waited for Patty to go to her room, Then he snuck up to the third floor because he had a strange gut feeling that something was wrong and he wanted to warn the others. Will tiptoed up the stairs in hope the floorboards wouldn’t creak like the sound of an old door opening with a rusty door hinge. Will made it to the top of the stairs and noticed it was pitch dark so he turned on the light only to be startled

“There once was a story told a long, long time ago, about the haunted mill.” said the man with the big black hat on his head. My twin brother and I wondered what the rest of the story was so we asked the perplexed man. “Oh I don't know if I should tell you that.” said the mysterious man. We just looked at the man and wondered why he couldn't tell us. We wondered and wondered what that strange story was, we were not giving up until we found out the story. So once we got away from that strange man I wondered what I could do to find out the story.

It was already dark and raining gently when we arrived at the front door of B&B Garibaldi in the early evening. Vince inserted the key into the front door lock, when much to his surprise, he felt the key snap in two as he turned it to unlock the door, leaving the stem in the keyhole. “Oh great! Now what do we do?” Vince said as he pulled the remaining part of the key out of the lock and looked at it bewildered in his hand.

Sawyer began to stir from a good night’s sleep, which is rare due to her stress accumulated from her job. She instinctively reached to other side of the bed expecting to feel the warmth of human flesh. Opening her eyes only to confirm the vacant spot she sighed. She flipped to the other side to look at the alarm clock the resided on her nightstand, 7:52 it read, contemplating rather to try to go back to sleep or to get up. Choosing the latter, she sat up rolling her neck, stretching her stiff limbs and began to make her way to the bathroom. Her eyes meet the mirror, studying her reflection.

It was gently raining and already dark when we arrived at the front door of B&B Garibaldi in the early evening. Vince inserted the key into the front door lock, when much to his surprise, he felt the key snap in two as he turned it to unlock the door, leaving the stem in the keyhole. “Oh great! Now what do we do?” Vince said as he pulled the remaining part of the key out of the lock and looked at it bewildered in his hand.