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STORY I WROTE

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mangofloat is not online. mangofloat
Joined: 14 Dec 2011
Total Posts: 2447
23 Aug 2012 11:12 PM
Creak.
The old McKinley house m0aned as it was shaken by the raging storm outside. With a crack, a bolt of lightning tore the sky apart. The patter of rain fell, while the ancient wooden house died its slow death.
“This was a stupid idea.” The source of the voice was a short scrawny blond boy, with strikingly blue eyes. “I can’t believe you dragged me into this.”
“It was your idea too, Clay,” replied a bedraggled girl, her locks of black hair soaking with rain. Both were about twelve yrs 0ld. “Now we’re trapped in this dumb house.” They both jumped as the distant barking of dogs started, then slowly faded. “Let’s explore this house while we have the chance,” said Clay excitedly, his face full of mischief. “Imagine what kind of stuff could be in this house! Come on, Natasha!”
“Like what?” said Natasha with a touch of annoyance. “A treasure map? No.”
Clay wasn’t waiting for an answer. He walked down the hall just as a bolt of lightning flashed, illuminating his soaked red T-shirt. Sighing, Natasha followed him.
Looking at some candles on the dining room table, Natasha said “I wonder if there’s any matches in this house.” Clay pointlessly flicked the switch on a lamp. “I’ll look in these kitchen drawers,” he answered. Rummaging through the drawers, he said “There’s something big and expensive in this house, I just know it!” Natasha rolled her eyes. Opening a drawer, Clay found some matches. “Here.” He struck a match in one swift motion, as the blue flame flashed. Lighting the candles, he spoke. “Happy now?”
Natasha laughed nervously. “Happy now I have to see your ugly face?” she said weakly, attempting a joke. Clutching a candle, she walked tensely to the front door. There she saw a straw basket, containing a lone yellow umbrella. Clay walked up next to her, and took the umbrella out of the basket.
“Nice! We can use this to get back to our houses!” Clay opened it excitedly.
A bolt of lightning cracked the sky with a roar, snuffing their candles. Whipping around, Clay faced an old woman at the bottom of the stairs, wearing a stern expression on her face. “Never open an umbrella in a house!” she rasped, her ancient voice dripping with rage. A second later, she vanished. Natasha and Clay panicked.
“Let's get out of here!” Natasha yelled. “Go, go, go!” Clay dashed out the door, following Natasha. Taking the umbrella with them, they ran until the old McKinley house was just a brown blur in the distance.
Gasping for breath, Natasha and Clay fell down on the wet grass of a neighbor’s lawn. The storm had slowed down to a trickle. Panting, Clay spoke. “What..the…hell…was that,” he said between breaths.
“I don’t know,” replied Natasha, steadying herself. “I don’t want to know. Let’s just forget this whole thing. Pretend it never happened. I’ve never been so scared in my life.”
Clay stood up. “What about the umbrella?” At that moment they both realized, in haste, Clay had taken the umbrella. It was still held firmly in his hand. “That lady said something about it.” Natasha hesitated. “Leave it here. Throw it in the gutter, I don’t care, just keep that umbrella away from me. There’s something wrong with it.” Clay heeded her instructions, and tossed the yellow umbrella in the rain gutter.
“See you tomorrow at school,” said Natasha, then hurried back home, avoiding eye contact. “Bye,” breathed Clay, heading home. Along the way, Clay slipped on the wet asphalt and landed smack on his shoulder. The road cut a gash on his shoulder, and blood oozed from the cut as he hurried home.
The next day, Clay saw Natasha at school. “Hey. What’s with the band-aid?” he inquired. “I cut my finger with a knife while helping with dinner,” she replied. “It’s no big deal.”
“Oh.” Clay closed his locker. “Ow!” he exclaimed as his finger got smashed. He examined his finger. It wasn’t bleeding, but it still throbbed.
The bell rang, sending Natasha hurrying off to her next class. As she entered the classroom, the door slammed, crushing her toe. Natasha sat down at her desk and bit her lip.
“Today we will be learning about precipitation,” announced the science teacher. The class groaned as the teacher began to give instructions on how to run the precipitation lab. “This is so lame,” complained Natasha’s friend Grace. “Rain and snow? I learned about this in third grade!”
Natasha laughed. “I know, right? Can I borrow a pencil?”
“Sure,” replied Grace, and tossed a pencil at Natasha. “Ow!” cried Natasha as the pencil hit her in the eye. Tears instantly started to well up.
“I’m sorry! Are you OK?” inquired Grace. Natasha just brushed it off. “Yeah,” replied Natasha. “I’m fine.” An hour and a half later, the bell rang. Natasha walked to her next class, Art, with Clay. She gasped as she found that Clay had a swollen bruise across his temple, sinking into his eye. “What happened?” she asked.
“I got hit in the face with a basketball in P.E. I had to go to the nurse’s office. Why were you crying?”
“I wasn’t crying, I just got hit in the eye with a pencil.” Clay laughed as he nudged her with his elbow. “Sure you weren’t. I bet you were crying over that old lady.” Natasha punched him in the shoulder. “Don’t mention that!” she exclaimed angrily.
“Ow!” yelped Clay. “That’s where I fell when I slipped on the asphalt yesterday!” He jabbed her hand in playful revenge. Natasha yelped. “That’s where I cut my finger cutting tomatoes!” At that moment they realized their mistake. Clay and Natasha stared at each other. “Why are we suddenly getting hurt?” whispered Natasha.
“It’s that old woman, she’s cursed us!” answered Clay, frightened. “Don’t be stupid,” replied Natasha. But inside, she agreed with him. She would have to return the umbrella.
The next day, Natasha had to do some dirty work. Crawling into the gutter, she retrieved the yellow umbrella, now slimy with muck. It was cloudy, and she decided to retrieve the umbrella before rain washed the umbrella away. Walking down to the old McKinley house, umbrella firmly in hand, she entered through the back door. The house was eerily quiet, but this time she had no fear. Walking slowly down to the straw basket, she lightly placed the umbrella back in its place. A voice spoke quietly from behind her.
“I’ve been waiting.” Turning around, Natasha saw the old woman from two nights ago standing at the base of the stairs. “Thank you for returning what was stolen.”
“I'm sor-” began Natasha just before the woman quickly disappeared. “I'm sorry,” Natasha whispered again. She walked out of the old McKinley house and never looked back again.
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SuperTrailMix is not online. SuperTrailMix
Joined: 26 Jul 2011
Total Posts: 402
23 Aug 2012 11:12 PM
this
if you get a job as a game designer
this.

Dr. Kuku, Scientist of OT
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aswee44 is not online. aswee44
Joined: 13 Aug 2012
Total Posts: 206
23 Aug 2012 11:14 PM
to be honest... i didn't read it.

not for the fact of i thought it was bad. just because it was to long, and i don't real long text.
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