Creak

Based off of my poem "Creak," this is a story about a haunted house and creaking footsteps.

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1. Prologue.

        Creak...Creeeaaak...Creaak...

          "We really need to get that damned attic floor sorted out. It's driving me bat-crap crazy. Grandma, d'you want me to call someone out here or...?"

        "No! No, no, no, no, no! This house needs to stay the way it is, or the monsters...The monsters that killed our ancestors will reappear! They'll reappear I tell you, you silly child!" The old woman got more and worked up, spitting and frantically shaking her arms around in the air beside her. Her grandson had to get up from his knees and hold the woman's hands until she had calmed down rather somewhat.

        "Grandma? What are you going on about? There aren't any monsters in this old place, and I'm not a child anymore. I'm nearly twenty-two, remember? I won't call anybody out here, alright? Just please calm down Grandma. It's not good for your health, okay?" Oliver looked at his wild eyed grandparent and it didn't take long for him to feel sorry for his ninety year old Grandma-he had to remember that the monstrous tales she had told him when he was younger were partly based on what her father had done to her when she was young. The monsters she spoke of were figments of her tortured mind, the doctor had said.

        "Let's get you to bed now, Grandma. It's getting late. Would you like to go on a picnic tomorrow? Yes, that would be nice, wouldn't it?" Smiling, Oliver helped the OAP out her chair and to her downstairs bedroom. Tucking her in and watching over her until he was certain she was asleep, Oliver crept out of the room and up to his-directly beneath the creaking attic. He stared up at the door that led up into the attic in the middle of his room's ceiling, and sighed. There was no hope for a good nights sleep with that creaking going on. Undressing to his boxers, Oliver remembered that tomorrow evening, he'd finally be able to go home to his girlfriend. He smiled a genuine smile at the thought of having her in his arms once again-her beautiful, pretty face leaning in for a kiss, her hands on his as they took their bulldog for a late night walk beside the twinkling lake, and finally, laying in each others arms at the end of the evening. Sighing contentedly, he crashed onto his old bed, and didn't wake until the next morning.

       Creak...Creeeaaak...Creaak...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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