The Broken Doorway
Hazel was standing at the corner of the block, looking down the street at the dead deserted mansion, standing before the foggy, ancient cemetery. A cool midnight breeze brushed against her skin, 'Don't do it,' Hazel thought, 'the last lady who lived there was murdered! Don't do it just because you want to prove everyone wrong about the ghosts!' She was just about to turn around and run back to the safety of her warm doona at home, when a small voice at the back of her head shouted out, 'You need to do this! If you don't everyone will think you're a failure, a loser for not finishing the dare! No one will want to talk to you, EVER.' Determinedly, she looked back at the mansion and marched towards it. As she went, it seemed as though the tall trees on either side of the road leaned in towards her, as if to share a secret, their long branches leading the way to the mysterious residence. The only sounds around her were the whoosh of the wind and the crunch of dried, shrivelled up leaves beneath her feet.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Hazel came upon the broken doorway of the dusty old house. Dead vines crawled across the powder white walls and the jagged glass on the window sill. The building towered over her as she gently laid her delicate hand on the rusty door knob. The heavy door flew open as though someone opened it for her, beckoning her to come inside. Cautiously, Hazel peeked inside; darkness filled the room. It was said that the old lady who used to live there was murdered in a little room of the house where only a small candle was lit. Shattered glass and a few pieces of broken furniture were lying on the creaky wooden floor. Cracked mirrors are placed in all angles of the room. The moon outside was a perfect circle, shining a soft milky light, even so, the light did not dare to enter the house.
'There isn't much in here, is there? Better go before mum and dad find out that I've left the house without their permission...' Hazel told herself, but she couldn't go. It was as though something was pulling her inside, demanding her to stay. Giving it a second thought, she slowly walked into the darkness, feeling around; she found the stairs and took one shaky step after the other. The stairs spiralled around into another large open space. In front of the stairs there was a room, and in the room a small candle was lit. 'A candle? Who would have put that there? I thought no one lived in here anymore...' She whispered, suddenly forgetting the fact that the old lady who once lived there was killed in the room where a small candle lit. Letting her curiosity get the better of her, she thought, 'Oh, it won't hurt to just take a small glimpse of whomever's in there...'
Being as quiet as she possibly could, Hazel tip-toed into the little corridor of the room and saw that no one was in there. The candle was looking so kind and innocent, neatly placed in the centre of the room on a tall curved stand. 'Hmm, that's odd. Where could they be?' She wondered. Hazel was hugging herself tightly, the cold breeze bringing chills to her spine and the back of her neck. Creak...Creak...Creak... 'H..H..He..Hello?' I..is..is anyone there?' she asked the frosty air surrounding her as she tried to feel for some sort of protection. BANG! Suddenly the bulky wooden door slammed shut, taking the light of the candle with it. Her piercing scream filled the room, as she quickly backed into a corner. Then everything came back to her memory- the old lady, the candle, the small room... 'H...He...He..Hello?' she tried again, in her shaking frightened voice. No answer. Heavy tear drops formed at the edges of her eyes, pushing one after the other down her raw pink cheeks regrettably, her heart pulsing erratically in her chest as though it might leap out any minute. Hazel hugged her legs tightly, rocking from side to side, when a tall black figure moved slowly towards her. The floor creaked with each step they took.