More than ever strange sounds are coming from the haunted
house. I have tried convincing my
grandfather to leave, but to no avail.
He is very confident. About what
I do not know. Whatever it is I hope he
is right because things are getting worse and worse every day.
Today the sounds stopped--nothing has
happened in a while. The town has been
completely silent. It is almost more
eerie than before having heard all of the sounds from the haunted house.
My grandfather has been smiling
nonstop and I don’t know why. I have
tried asking him, but he won’t explain.
He just tells me to keep silent and watch the house.
Finally, something happened today. I was watching the haunted house, when the door
began opening. I held my breath and my
grandpa leaned forward in his chair by the window.
The door swung open fully and to my surprise
an ordinary human being stepped outside.
It wasn’t a spirit or a ghost.
Just a regular man.
The man laughed as he walked down
the front porch steps.
“I knew it,” muttered my
grandfather.
“Knew what?” I asked.
He didn’t answer but sat at the window
watching the man. After a few more
minutes, more people began exiting the house.
In all there were thirteen of them.
“Selfish dirt-bags,” my grandfather
said.
I don’t know what he meant, but I’m
sure I’ll soon find out.
Yesterday is the day it went
down. The night before yesterday the
supposedly haunted house was again filled with laughing and music. This time it didn’t scare me because I knew
it was real people. That same night my
grandfather explained to me what was happening.
And on that same night we hatched a plan to put a stop to these people’s
plans.
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