The Work Day And Night

Day after day, we would pass the mansion building on our way to and from school. Branches of vines and clusters of moss crawled up the sides of the building. I could see the paint, tearing off the walls. People for years have said the mansion building is haunted, but I don’t believe it. They say people have been possessed and killed there. Olivia, of course, believes every detail anyone tells him. To teach him a lesson, we decided to plan to spend the night in the mansion building this Saturday.

“Thank you for coming on such short notice, Father.” a weary voice said as the door opened. He had thinning grey hair, a scruffy beard, and looked downright distraught.

“I'm sorry to inform you that your parents were in a car accident,” the man stated, the words rolling off his tongue.

As he stomped down the hall dressed in all black, I timidly stepped to the other side of the hallway with my head down avoiding any type of interaction. When the sounds of boots and chains faded away, I was overwhelmed with relief. Nothing had calmed me more than this instant; nothing had been more soothing than the sound of pure nothingness. The fear that came over me was like being trapped in a small room with no way out. I felt helpless, defenseless, like something was going to happen to me in that hallway with the boy dressed in black.

Peter puts up fairy lights all over the house so they know if his parents are there. That night, Lucy and her boyfriend Joe went to an old deserted farm house up the street from Joe’s house, it was a cold and dark and creepy that night so they brought an old shotgun and a lacrosse

Five minutes left of my safe haven. Which means ten minutes until I come back to reality. Ten minutes until I see my father. RING! Sounded the bell, breaking me from my nightmare. I gathered my books and put on my sunglasses. I walked out of the school feeling nauseous. I walked the short distance to my house. My hand shook against the door knob. I turned it, checking to see if it was locked. It was open, so I walked straight in. It was quiet. Too quiet. I walked around looking for my father. I checked the couch, not there. I checked him and my "mothers" room, not there. I let a smile break out on my face. I took a shower, which was very rare. Showers for me are about as common as breakfast in the morning, and breakfast is not common. I got out the shower and dried off. I put on a pair of boxers and shorts and got in my bed. I lied there and thought about the times before my step father. My mom an I were so close. I began to fall asleep as all these thought flooded my mind, and before I know it, I was out cold. I slept for what felt like mere minutes before a cold, hateful voice awoke

I woke to shouting and banging on my door. I grabbed my pocket watch from the side of my bed; it read 4 o’clock. Who would be at my door this early in the morning? I thought. My body was dragged from the bed as I trudged along to my front door.

We Entered the Fully furnished antique home avoiding the broken glass pieces stuck around the perimeter of the window. The wallpaper was peeling and the furniture was eaten up by mice and rats. We walk around the room for five minutes silent until Grayson breaks the silence of course saying “Woah creepy” pointing at the large family portrait with each face smudged out with black ink. “Well let's look around then just leave” I say with Aleisha backing me up. “Nah nah” Grayson alluded in perfect harmony with my brother adding “Leigh Settle its just a house an old house”. “The Pattison Murder house where like everyone in the family was apparently killed by the son” Aleisha interjected. “Key word there, apparently” Grayson laughed rolling his eyes.I let out a slight sigh as I walked down the Hall with Aleisha. The Floors creaked and parts of the ceiling were smothered with Black

“ William I am so glad you are okay but how could you scare me like that I have been looking for 3 hours for you. Don’t you ever do that to me again we will talk about this later at home do you want to come back home? “ He looked at Karen then Terri and back at Karen and the Terri.

Entering the house felt like jumping into a pool of cold water. Making my way into the living room, slower than a one-legged dog on tranquilizers, I could see my dad. At a glance, it looked more serious than just my dog having died.

“Oh, it’s very true, sweetie. It’s the truest of trues, really.” The groundskeeper suddenly stood up from the antique chair and walked into the kitchen. Luke and Tim were taken aback, desperately wishing to leave this evil place that was obviously haunted. They both sat back in their seats, feeling as though they were sinking into the clutches of satan. They were experiencing a spectrum of emotions that they had never endured before this fateful night.

Living in our own home was bliss and Redwood City was a wonderful place to live. Our home was located within walking distance of Broadway; a major street downtown with a movie theater, several restaurants and interesting stores. Ben Franklin; a five-and-dime variety store, sold low cost household items, sundries, seasonal products, health and beauty aids. JC Penny’s; a larger department store, sold furniture and clothing and at Walgreens, the corner drugstore, there was a diner where shoppers sat at a counter and ordered a hamburger with fries and a milkshake, or two eggs with two strips of bacon, hash browns and two pancakes any time of day. At the Fox Theater Ellen and I met friends to see a matinee and occasionally, on our way home after

In all honesty, I picked my book solely on the aspect that it has been awarded the Pulitzer Prize. One of my favorite novels of all time, Broken for You by Stephanie Kallos, received the prestigious award as well. So, I decided to trust the Pulitzer Prize committee and dive into the novel, The Hours by Michael Cunningham. I expected a novel of complexity and a deep perception of thought, and that is exactly what I got. The Hours was composed of three different stories woven together to create a myriad of themes. Each story followed a day in the life of a woman struggling with society’s pressure of perfection and the perception of life itself.

It was a very bleak December and Kobe lay resting in his home around midnight. He was laying on his bed nearly asleep;then suddenly he heard a vicious tapping at the door that alerted him. Then, he noticed the purple curtain rustle which put a fear deep within him. A few minutes later, when Kobe still lay resting, he once again heard the tapping on my chamber door. However, this time the noise was louder than before, but he still believed this tapping was nothing. Kobe thought that the tapping was from someone or something at his window.

“THEO! Son, where are you” He heard his father’s voice in the middle of the confusion.