The Haunted Closet
This is a true butweird story that still shocks me.I was home alone, finishing aschool project. Suddenly, the power went off. I wasn’texpecting it, even though it was storming pretty hard outside.Anyway, the lights went out, and total blackness closed in. Icouldn’t see anything, and I mean nothing. I was in a roomwith no windows, so it seemed that I had just gone blind.
I crept into my hallway. It was an old, really long hallway. Thetwo windows gave out dim lighting. It was the middle of summer,and the air conditioning had stopped running when the power wentoff. It got really almost unbearably hot in that short period oftime. So, as a result, I went over to the window and opened it. Iknew water was going to get it, but I was too hot. Then, since Icould see a little, I crept down to my kitchen and grabbed asmall flashlight. Then I crept back up to my room. Again, no onewas home, but I was as quiet as a mouse. I was about to continueworking on the project, when all of a sudden I heard voices. Andnoises. Evil laughing and whispers. At first I thought it wasjust my imagination, but I realized it was not. I was so scared Ialmost peed my pants. I quietly crept up to my door, ready toquickly turn the corner and catch the intruders in my home. Itook a deep breath, and spun around the corner.
No one was there. They must have heard me and ducked into one ofthe rooms, I thought. First I went up to my sisters room. My highheels clicked against the mansion’s tile floors. I kickedthem off, not wanting to scare the intruders. I soundly openedthe door to my sister’s room, and checked inside top tobottom. Again, no one was there. Not in the closet, under thebed, under the desk, or any other hiding spot they could be in. Iwas puzzled. They are probably in another room dummy, I toldmyself aloud. Opps! I covered my mouth. I didn’t want themhearing me if they were nearby. I then went around, checking allof the rooms, except one. The closet in the hallway. But, sincethey weren’t in any other room, they must be in the closet,I thought. I have to check it. For my safety, and my families. Iopened the door. The closet was far back, meaning when you openedthe closet door, it went way back. There was not much in itexcept our storage boxes. They room always had looked weird to me.It was dark red. When we had moved into the mansion. It was old,and had been abandoned for ages, so the rooms stank. The closethad stunk the worst though. I think there must be rat droppingssomewhere in the wall, because it really stinks. Anyway, I threwopen the door, and with my flashlight, began to wonder down. Iwas about halfway through the long closet, when all of a suddenthe door slammed shut.
It was not the robbers, I kept telling myself. It was probablythe wind, I reassured myself. Yea, yea, that’s right! It wasthe wind from the open window. I said to myself out loud. Ifinished checking the closet, and, again, it did not have anyonein it. Then I walked hurriedly toward the door, grabbed thehandle, turned and pushed. Oh, no! I thought. It was stuck! I wasused to this, in this old house the doors got stuck all the time,but I usually wasn’t home alone, stuck in a stinky closet,intruders in my house, and a dying flashlight being my onlysource of light. I sat down, getting up every couple of minutesto check the still-stuck door. Oh well, I thought. If I am goingto be stuck here, I might as well try to make the best of it. Iturned my flashlight on (I had been keeping it off to conservethe batteries) and began digging in one of the boxes nearest me.It was mostly junk from my kindergarten days. Pictures, drawings,stuff like that. I pushed it aside and found another box. Thiswas must have been centuries old. It was broken, and cobwebs anddust covered the box so bad that I couldn’t even see wherethe lid was. Finally I found it. I opened it gently, afraid I wasgoing to see a skeleton or something spooky.
Inside was just a whole bunch of old, yellow, and torn-at-the-edgespaper. I was about to shut it and open a new one when a sentencecaught my eye. “’They say he went…psycho. I pulledthe paper that had that sentence on it out. I smacked myflashlight, hopping to get better light. I had to face the facts,it was dying. I began reading. The first couple sentences didn’tmake senses to me…they were just explaining who lived in thehouse first. Then I started reading aloud. “The people thatbuilt the mansion nicknamed it Nightmare Mansion. It was a manand his son, who was about twenty years old. They were alwaysgood friends, and then, one day, the son, Jon, went psycho. Hejust snapped. He was always a nut, neighbors said, but then oneday, he just broke down. When his dad said that he needed somehelp, the last straw broke. He choked his dad, and then, cut himup. He took his head, and rubbed it all over the closet doors-makingthe walls a dark red. Then, the Jon killed himself, right therein the closet. The bloodstains never could come out. Since then,all the owners of the home did not like the closet. They saidweird things happened to them in there. The door would stick, andslam shut on its own. Other owners have said they felt likesomeone was watching them. Outside the closet door, in thehallway, owners have reported hearing voices and whispers. Theson then scattered the body parts within the closet walls. Astrange odor has erupted. Strangely, all the workers we called into remove the parts have run out of the house, terrified. Years,later, still none of the workers have stayed long enough toremove the parts. We, the realtors of the home, have stoppedtrying. All the workers have said, when asked what spooked them,“Somebody is in there, the devil? We don’t know, butsomeone is in there.” The house has been classified ashaunted, and, we to have given up on trying to sell the house. Wegave Nightmare Mansion to another Realtor Company and I still don’tknow if anyone has bought that house. I don’t know because Inever go near it, something-strange lives in that closet, justwaiting. Waiting. As the ex realtor of the house, I was requiredto write the records of the house. I didn’t enjoy, but thisis my warning. If you live in the house now, get out. I warnedyou. Something evil is there. Beware of the closet at NightmareMansion.”
I couldn’t believe what I had just read. I actually read itthree times to make sure that I had really read that. A murder?Blood walls? Scattered body parts? So many questions flooded mybrain, but one in particular kept coming up. How am I going toget out of here? I jumped out from my place on the floor andtried the door again. Still locked. Shoot! Tears of fright andfrustration flooded in my eyes. I was going to die, I thought. Iwill never make it out of here. Just then, my worst fear happened.The flashlight burned out.
Everything instantly went pitch black. I was so scared. I curledup on the floor and closed my eyes, hopping to fall asleep so Iwould not be so scared. In my heart, however, I knew that I wasn’tgoing to fall asleep no matter what. In the dark is when the realHAUNTING began. I started to hear breathing, although I washolding my breath. I heard whispers again, this time from insidethe closet. Suddenly, the lights flicked on, but only for asecond. However, a second was all I needed to see a man, with aknife through the top of his head, to scream. He looked normal,except the fact he was covered in blood and he was a silver-ishcolor, from all the blood that was drained from him when hekilled himself. I backed up against the closet wall, screaming,even though the room was pitch black again. It’s that crazyson, Jon, and he is going to kill me to. I heard footstepsgetting nearer, and then I felt his pale, ice cold hands aroundmy throat choking me. I couldn’t breath, and a red haze wasfilling my eyes. I’m dying, I thought. I fought back withall my might, kicking and biting. However, my legs went throughhis stomach, and my teeth through his skin, like I was bitingthin air. He didn’t even flinch. He let go for a second wentthe lights flickered on once more, and I was able to get a gaspof hair. Then he grabbed me again, and I was fighting for my life.Just as I was about to die, die forever, the lights came back on.
Instantly, Jon disappeared and I fell to the floor, gasping andcoughing in the air. I guess he hates light, and he only tries tokill people when the lights are off. That’s why he didn’ttouch me, or let me know he was there when I had my flashlight.He hates light. Finally, after about three minutes of gasping inair, I crawled to the door, too weak to stand. I grabbed thedoorknob, and to my amazement, it wasn’t stuck. I was free!I swung it opened, crawled out, and fainted right there on thetile floor.
My parents came home, and although I showed them the history offthe house, I did not tell them about what had happened. I knewthey wouldn’t believe me and would put me in a mentalhospital. Two weeks later, we moved. My parents just weren’tthrilled that a murder and suicide had taken place in the house.We moved to a new house, a half-hour away. I’ve been lookingfor the records since, trying to find out what happened in thathouse. The realtors just never tell you anymore. You don’tknow what could have happened in your house…
I am sorry if it is a little long!