My brother told me before that at night whenever he would get up to go to the bathroom or put on a T-shirt he would feel someone tap his shoulder, now I knew what he was talking about. I hoped and prayed she was at rest now. Tricia said she was looking through the history books once, and she saw a picture of children dressed and running alongside wagon trains.
I woke up several times at night barely able to breathe, with my blankets wrapped tightly around me. Under the chairs and in front of the fireplace lay a red and dusty grey rug stained from the charcoal and shredded at the sides from mice living in the bottom of the sofa.
Running into the house, she looked for her. Once Tricia told me that in her early ages she moved into a village called Santee Lakes along with her family, and in that residential area, the new homes were surrounded by older neighborhoods.
Mugs and plates lay on the surface cold and stained by tea. I moved on to the dining room — a big table made from oak and six chairs filled the room. There was no television just a sofa, two chairs and a fireplace; the thick smell of charcoal from the once burning fireplace had spread around the room choking me up on the inside.
Just to the right of me was the same women I The chairs and sofa were made from black leather once soft and comfy now thin and worn away from all the use.
Carrying on up the path the grass carried on forever into the horizon, a dull grey color as if it had lost the will to live and stopped growing altogether. A few potted plants lay next to the door, once there for neat presentation now wilted and brown, almost certainly dead.
When people headed west. Maybe this little girl was from this era? As the house drew nearer everything around me became quieter and more distant. The windows rattled vigorously from the howling wind, as though they were about to fall out of the frames which were made from rotting wood being eaten away by wood worm.
The air was cold and numb and with every breath I drew a misty, chilly exhale followed. She will never know. Tricia wondered if she was buried there. The moon shone bright white, in the cloudless sky, it was the only source of light that could be seen for miles.
Even though I could feel the unevenness of the old cobbled path beneath me, they were smooth in contrast to the crunching of the odd dead leaf that I stepped on.
Homes now filled the valley, and our old "Haunted home" looked so different. Sitting outside, She was relieved no one had noticed that she was missing, she said it felt so nice to be in the dark alone at that time, even if it was just for a few minutes.
I flicked the light switch on and made myself some tea to calm down. I could feel the coldness from the musty orange and black tiled floor even though I was wearing shoes it felt as though it had frozen over. Very excited, I went to unpack my stuff.
It felt even weirder in the attic than any other room in the house. The walls plastered with cream wallpaper curling in at the corners. From the outside, the house was tall and thin, made from large dark grey stones that had a rough feel all of this sandwiched together by crumbling cement. I drank the first cup of tea and decided to make some more.
She went into her house, and was gone from sight in a minute. Straight ahead led to two more rooms, which looked to be a kitchen, from all the cups and plates left out, a dining room, and to the right of me was the lounge area.
To the left was an old wooden stairway leading upwards to the second floor each step looked so delicate and worn that if you were to walk up them you would step right through them. The lounge had large bookcases on each wall stacked with thick data books caped in dust.
The new house we moved in seems very interesting and very old. The Haunted House Pushing the heavy gates open the touch of the iron bars, as cold as ice, seized up my hand completely. It never seemed to be quiet in her home.Haunted House It was the first day of autumn, not even a month away from my birthday I was quite excited as it was my 16th birthday.
My parents decided to move house again, as they didn’t like the neighbourhood. An Introduction to the Creative Essay on the Topic of the Haunted House PAGES 6. WORDS 1, View Full Essay.
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Haunted House: Once upon a time there was a haunted house it was empty no body lived there but only mint-body.com House owner was so sad about that so he asked a brave police man to clean the House from the ghosts he agreed. Descriptive Essay Example: The Haunted House Pushing the heavy gates open the touch of the iron bars, as cold as ice, seized up my hand completely.
Even though I could feel the unevenness of the old cobbled path beneath me, they were smooth in contrast to the crunching of the odd dead leaf that I stepped on. Essay about The Haunted House - Original Writing - The Haunted House - Original Writing It was the Christmas holidays and beady eyes phased with curiosity were glazing over us.
I felt as though everyone was staring at us, and we were now the central attention of our new, humble town, Gravesend.Download