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old house

The Mystery in an Old House

eaking floorboards, noises in the attic, all these are noises in the old house. If you dare, try and find out the mystery of the old house.
“Mom do we really have to move to that old rundown haunted house.” I ask for the thousandth time that day.
“Yes we do it will be worth it in the end though Diana.” My mother says, while putting boxes of our stuff in an U-haul truck that arrived that morning. I slump on our couch that hasn’t been loaded into the truck yet and begin to pout.
The next morning we leave the house of my childhood that holds so many precious memories. I wave goodbye to my old house as my mom drives out the driveway on our way to the haunted house in the middle of nowhere.
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Sambo's picture

On the Corner of Bayview & Wilson

There is a house on the corner of Bayview and Wilson, which murmurs old tales of the women who’ve sat at the windowsills, and the vermin who’ve sprawled themselves amongst the rusty wood.  In sing-songy voices, the words emerge of the women, imprisoned, inquisitive, indifferent to anything else.
 
I have lived for forty years on this window sill, waiting for my husband to return.  
 
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Cat Hayes's picture

Old House on the Knoll

Old House On The Knoll Read more »

Desterted House

Near my road there is a house
that I always avoid
Inhabited by a grouse and a mouse
I’m annoyed
its there.
I must pass it everyday.
It could be the lair of a bear.
I usually take the long way,
around this unkempt and overgrown place.
Noboby there. . . a discrace
I give the place its space
And pass by it with haste.

kayb's picture

The Old Perkins Place

By Kay Bushman
U-32 Middle School, Grade 7

Nobody really knew what would be found on the other side of the door to the old Perkins place.
It was more of a shack than a house really, with miscellaneous metal objects littering the yard, and a few skeletons of cars sitting about.
The man who had owned the place had had a mean rottweiler that he tied up in the yard. Some days he would sit outside by the dog, tending a pile of burning garbage. Most days smoke just came from his chimney, proof that he wasn’t dead yet. Read more »

kayb's picture

Seven Minute Write

This doesn't really fit any of the prompts, because I already wrote something for those and I didn't want to start being repetitive. So I just wrote for seven minutes (more or less).

The Oldsmobile rattled along the winding, narrow road. From the window Stella could see twisted trees that drooped over the path, blocking out the light that was beginning to fade. Her father took a sharp left, the Oldsmobile swaying dangerously. Up ahead Stella could now make out an ancient house.
The car stopped, coming dangerously close to the house’s rickety front steps. Neither of the car’s occupants said a word as they got out of the car.
Stella grabbed her suitcase from the trunk and hauled it up the uneven stairs. Her father squeezed past her silently with the key. He opened the door and stepped over the threshold, rounding on Stella before she could escape past him. Read more »

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