Descriptive Essay On A Haunted House

October 24th 2015 was the scariest yet best day of my life. I was being dropped off at Monte Nido Vista, a residential treatment facility for people with eating disorders in Augora Hills California. I did not know what to expect. I was 2,200 miles away from home for an unknown amount of time at a place I knew nothing about. When my mom and I arrived we pulled up to a secluded home in the mountains. Monte Nido means mountain nest, and we could see why. We walked through the doors and were instantly greeted by a woman who I would later know as my

One day at our summer cabin in the woods me my mom,dad,brother, and sister were having a peaceful day except for that this time we were in danger having to live off the land. For we feared that some kind of creature had taken over our cabin. What was once a peaceful vacation spot was know a place of eeriness.

I’m just getting in the door, and I say to myself “oh course it has to be a two story house.” As I walk into the house I get shivers up my spine, and I know something is in the house I just don’t know what. As me being the curious one I know I have to keep going, and there I was standing in the doorway of a “haunted house.” I looked all through the living room, but I didn’t see anything. I was as scared as a jack-rabbit that had heard the howl of a wolf. I was just about to step on the first step, but I heard something run right past me. I turned around quicker than the speed of light, but then again nothing was there. I walked all the way up the stairs, and I started looking in the rooms. In the last room I checked I saw something crouched down in the corner.

We learned about people who died right where we stood. We even got to reenact a famous battle, running through the fields like soldiers did many years before was exhilarating. After our tour we all felt very tired, well us kids did our parents, not so much. They all went to the bar and had a drink while us kids went to sleep. I stayed in a room with 2 friends and one adult. The adult that stayed with us in our room went to the bar like the others. Patience, Rylie, and I were alone in our room. When Rylie took a shower, Patience and I heard a doorbell. We both looked around checking our phones and outside the door to find out where the doorbell sound came from.  When Rylie came out of the bathroom, we told her what had happened. We were so scared because this town is supposed to be the most haunted place in America, and we heard a doorbell that apparently came out of nothing. None of the rooms, at this hotel, had doorbells. I can look back on it now and laugh because I figured out where the sound came from. I had brought my iPod touch so I could take pictures, and with the notification sounds on, my iPod seems to just make doorbell sounds without actually having a notification. My iPod scared us half to death. Of course I didn’t figure this out until after the end of the trip, so when I did figure it out I texted my friend and told her the story. We still laugh about it

It was frightening enough and as my grandmother's panicked screams filled the air I realized they definitely weren’t helping. I began to get scared and that’s when we rolled up a gravel driveway next to a cabin, on the peak of the mountain. The sunset view of the mountains was gorgeous, but that wasn’t all, by the light of a lit-up ferris wheel you could see the beautiful city below. Everyone shouted “we’re here,” and I brought my bags into the

We finally got to the so called haunted house. It was unsettling there was just something about it that none of us could put into words. Maybe we didn’t want to know why, maybe we just wanted to act as if nothing was wrong and saying nothing made that real. The house looked as if were falling apart like it would collapse at the slightest of wind. “ So I guess we should go in then” Sam almost whispered as if she didn’t want us to hear her. “ Yes, let's go in” Mary said, but the way she said it was off setting like she had no feelings. Though honestly, I don’t think any of us wanted to go in we walked up to the door and pushed.

On August 16, 2006, at exactly 03:00, normality for Fiona Berman ceased to exist and The Richmond Haunting began.

When they walked through the doors of the haunted house in the graveyard, it had an instantly spooky aroma. The door itself was wooden and starting to rot away and fall from its hinges, although that kind of describes the whole house, falling apart. To the right there was a small staircase with ten or eleven steps leading upstairs and a doorway below them leading downstairs. There was old furniture scattered across the old house but it was all ripped up or broken. To the left of the room was a locked door that was still in perfect condition and was reinforced very well. Despite the attempts of two of the four members of their group of four teenagers, the door remained locked and closed. Going straight through the arch in front of them led to the dining room which is where the bad things began.

The bustle and clamor of the markets swelled in the autumn sunshine as I wove my way through the tight pack of people, clutching my bag of overpriced groceries to my chest like precious cargo. Sellers yelled out prices and the strains of a street performer’s guitar drifted from down the busy street.

It was a bright sunny day in Colorado, or at least that’s how I always thought about it, but now reflecting back on it, it was probably more like any other day in Colorado; Unpredictable. For a reason that most likely wasn’t so innocent I was up in my attic that day, stumbling around in the musty forbidden corner of the dimly lit room in my house. It’s funny how exciting I thought it was being up alone in the attic, not that it wasn’t dangerous. we had an unfinished attic, one with boards instead of a solid floor where one mistake could send you falling down a story. I tried to step quietly in fear of alerting both my mom and the fictional beasts that hide only out of eyesight, in vain, for each step I took the already weakening boards under my feet creaked with an eerie, malevolent, shrill note. I stared ahead of me, my eyes augmented, searching for anything that might keep me more entertained than the running nonsensical recordings that projected themselves onto the television screen. To my disappointment, my eyes only laid upon dusty old boxes containing future garage sale items.

There I was, my friend Mason and I roughly 50 yards from his house. It was a chilly eerie night, although we still decided to walk to get our favorite ice cream from Mo Cones. The ice cream had me shivering at every bite, although it tasted so tremendous, I didn't care at all. We were walking back to his house, then we heard a noise. Little did we know this was going to be the most eventful night of our lives.

When we got in the cabin we had to go in the basement to turn the power and the water pumps on so we could stay there for almost a full week then I have to go back to school. When I walked upstairs into the loft I saw dead spiders all over and I freaked out because I have arachnophobia.

Four years ago on a cold eerie night during Halloween; my family and I went to Scarborough downs for a haunted hayride. While we were waiting in line, the smell of hot coffee and warm cider made me giddy. My parents were hesitant on bringing me at first because I was scared easily. But, this time it was different; I had convince them to letting me go with them. We go there and my composed demeanor was loss like a paper in the wind. I was acting like I was not scared though my brother sensed that I was scared. At this moment my brother went to the bathroom. I was too worried about the ride that I did not released a few minutes later he came back; he ran up behind me and whispered in my ear “You won't see tomorrow”. I slapped him and ran behind

I pulled my hoodie over my head as a huge truck had passed by and the light finally hit green. I started walking again in the cold night, my hands shoved into my pocket. I was walking over to Beth's place to get away from dad's yelling of the dead man's horrifying death. He's really overreacting about this, though. He said that the killing happened somewhere around our part of town. I should be feeling terrified to the core like everybody else but life is so dull, something like this should be at the least a little bit interesting, not

High upon a lonely hill surrounded by a great dark forest, stood an ancient, crumbling manor, known as the Haunted House. The windows were all smashed and it looked like the house was used a long time ago and was never used again. The font gates were as old as the hills. It belonged to a greedy old man, he was as short as a stump, he was really grumpy and fat who everyone said he was a wizard. Even though he owned the immense haunted house he didn’t dare to go inside because he was frightened like a child in dark, so he lived in the small cottage in the grounds of the manor, with just his black cat for company. He was as lonely as the master who has go to war, but hews happy, because he had a true love. His true love was gold, and he had