The Tale of Surlington Mansion 2
Tonight, I had a hard time eating dinner. Just the idea of Andrea's reaction stayed with me. "Honey, are you okay? You're not eating anything." "I'm fine, mom, I'm fine." I said, feeling nausea in the pit of my stomache. "I think I'm going to go upstairs now." Climbing the stairs so alone, I felt a bit scared, but I managed to get to my room and slump down on my bed. Thoughts raced through my mind. What exactly did happen to the last family that lived here? The idea haunted me, and it seemed to be the only thing scaring me. I mean, there seemed to be no problems so far with hearing uncanny noises or feeling or seeing anything strange. Shrugging the whole thing off, I sat at my desk and began to do my homework. And that's when it happened. The door of my room started to close. I ran as quickly as I could, away from my room, from the door, down the stairs, gasping for breath, wide eyed. "Jesus, Andrea, what's the matter?" My little sister Elizabeth cried. "Nothing, nothing." It was the biggest lie I'd ever told. How was I going to get through the night? I decided that the sooner I found out about the history of the house I'd feel a little better. Walking slowly up to my room, I sat back down, cautious. Nothing else happened that night.
"Dana, you've got to come to the library with me. I'm serious. Please. Last night, you won't believe what happened." Dana just gaped brainlessly at me, weighed down by her backpack. I couldn't wait for her to answer. "Last night, my door moved. By itself. It was perfectly still last night-you know how humid it was. There was not a gust of wind. And my door moved." "Andrea. Look. I lied to you about not believing in ghosts. I just about think that everyone in our town does. I just didn't want to know about it. It scares me….If only you knew the evil that hides in your house! If I were you, I would want to move out any chance I got. Look, I know you can't , but, you don't want to find out about the dark secrets of this mansion." "Dana, I've got to know! Don't give me that! Please! Look, if you don't want to tell me, the library will. It will tell me everything I need to know. And if you don't want to come to the library, that's fine. But I can't live in this ignorance anymore. I'm sure what you know is just a rumor. I want the truth. I have made it my goal to know what kind of a place I've moved into, and nobody can stop me now, least of all you." Dana looked at me pleadingly. It couldn't possibly be that serious that she didn't want me to know. The foreboding look on my friend's face was worth a thousand words. And yet, I ignored the information. I ignored the warnings. I'm sorry I ever did.
Stopping at home, I grabbed my bike, and headed toward the library. I remembered vividly the section where all the books on Surlington Mansion had been. How could I forget? I mindlessly scanned the subtitles of the books on the shelf. Suddenly, I spotted exactly what I was looking for. There, at the end of the bottom shelf, where I would have never noticed it before, I noticed a neglected old, tattered book bound in leather. The title read, "The Truth about Surlington Mansion". I don't know how I knew it was the right one, except that I felt it in my chest. I felt a cold clammy feeling, an uninviting feeling I had never felt before. How could such an ordinary title get me started? I didn't know anything but to trust the wicked feeling inside of me. Settling down on the floor in an isolated spot of the library, I carefully opened the book…and thumbed through the pages as if I knew the book from front to back. It was as if I knew where I'd end up, and automatically I stopped on the last chapter. My hands---it was as if they were moving on their own without my mind telling them to. It was as if they had a mind of their own. "Chapter thirty," I read softly to myself, "The last family of Surlington Mansion." And I started reading, the clammy feeling getting more intense. I just wanted to close the book, but my hands would not allow me too. There they stayed, gripping the book tightly.
Edward Surlington and his wife Margaret were the last family to ever inhabit the mansion. Their story remained the most mysterious of all. Some say that they out of all the inhabitants suffered the worst of fortune. The newly wed couple moved in at first with brilliant plans for the future. But Margaret tried to bear Edward children several times yet she could not. The once Servants began to turn on their master and mistress, planning to kill them both and escape. One servant girl was finally caught for attempting to poison Margaret's wine. When Edward lost his job, he and Margaret often contemplated of selling the Mansion. Most say it was to earn money for support, others say they wanted to escape from the Mansion as soon as possible. But nobody wished to buy the Mansion. Margaret was so depressed that she went mad. It is nebulous of what really happened, for little evidence was found on the case, but of what was found, a conclusion had arrived that one night, Margaret stabbed her sleeping husband in her madness , and then stabbed herself out of remorse. The blood and knife was found lying under the bed in the master bedroom, along with Margaret's body, but the body of Edward Surlington was never found, and thus never had a proper burial. The only possible and obvious conclusion to where the body of Edward lay would be hidden, somewhere within the mansion itself.
Tonight, I had a hard time eating dinner. Just the idea of Andrea's reaction stayed with me. "Honey, are you okay? You're not eating anything." "I'm fine, mom, I'm fine." I said, feeling nausea in the pit of my stomache. "I think I'm going to go upstairs now." Climbing the stairs so alone, I felt a bit scared, but I managed to get to my room and slump down on my bed. Thoughts raced through my mind. What exactly did happen to the last family that lived here? The idea haunted me, and it seemed to be the only thing scaring me. I mean, there seemed to be no problems so far with hearing uncanny noises or feeling or seeing anything strange. Shrugging the whole thing off, I sat at my desk and began to do my homework. And that's when it happened. The door of my room started to close. I ran as quickly as I could, away from my room, from the door, down the stairs, gasping for breath, wide eyed. "Jesus, Andrea, what's the matter?" My little sister Elizabeth cried. "Nothing, nothing." It was the biggest lie I'd ever told. How was I going to get through the night? I decided that the sooner I found out about the history of the house I'd feel a little better. Walking slowly up to my room, I sat back down, cautious. Nothing else happened that night.
"Dana, you've got to come to the library with me. I'm serious. Please. Last night, you won't believe what happened." Dana just gaped brainlessly at me, weighed down by her backpack. I couldn't wait for her to answer. "Last night, my door moved. By itself. It was perfectly still last night-you know how humid it was. There was not a gust of wind. And my door moved." "Andrea. Look. I lied to you about not believing in ghosts. I just about think that everyone in our town does. I just didn't want to know about it. It scares me….If only you knew the evil that hides in your house! If I were you, I would want to move out any chance I got. Look, I know you can't , but, you don't want to find out about the dark secrets of this mansion." "Dana, I've got to know! Don't give me that! Please! Look, if you don't want to tell me, the library will. It will tell me everything I need to know. And if you don't want to come to the library, that's fine. But I can't live in this ignorance anymore. I'm sure what you know is just a rumor. I want the truth. I have made it my goal to know what kind of a place I've moved into, and nobody can stop me now, least of all you." Dana looked at me pleadingly. It couldn't possibly be that serious that she didn't want me to know. The foreboding look on my friend's face was worth a thousand words. And yet, I ignored the information. I ignored the warnings. I'm sorry I ever did.
Stopping at home, I grabbed my bike, and headed toward the library. I remembered vividly the section where all the books on Surlington Mansion had been. How could I forget? I mindlessly scanned the subtitles of the books on the shelf. Suddenly, I spotted exactly what I was looking for. There, at the end of the bottom shelf, where I would have never noticed it before, I noticed a neglected old, tattered book bound in leather. The title read, "The Truth about Surlington Mansion". I don't know how I knew it was the right one, except that I felt it in my chest. I felt a cold clammy feeling, an uninviting feeling I had never felt before. How could such an ordinary title get me started? I didn't know anything but to trust the wicked feeling inside of me. Settling down on the floor in an isolated spot of the library, I carefully opened the book…and thumbed through the pages as if I knew the book from front to back. It was as if I knew where I'd end up, and automatically I stopped on the last chapter. My hands---it was as if they were moving on their own without my mind telling them to. It was as if they had a mind of their own. "Chapter thirty," I read softly to myself, "The last family of Surlington Mansion." And I started reading, the clammy feeling getting more intense. I just wanted to close the book, but my hands would not allow me too. There they stayed, gripping the book tightly.
Edward Surlington and his wife Margaret were the last family to ever inhabit the mansion. Their story remained the most mysterious of all. Some say that they out of all the inhabitants suffered the worst of fortune. The newly wed couple moved in at first with brilliant plans for the future. But Margaret tried to bear Edward children several times yet she could not. The once Servants began to turn on their master and mistress, planning to kill them both and escape. One servant girl was finally caught for attempting to poison Margaret's wine. When Edward lost his job, he and Margaret often contemplated of selling the Mansion. Most say it was to earn money for support, others say they wanted to escape from the Mansion as soon as possible. But nobody wished to buy the Mansion. Margaret was so depressed that she went mad. It is nebulous of what really happened, for little evidence was found on the case, but of what was found, a conclusion had arrived that one night, Margaret stabbed her sleeping husband in her madness , and then stabbed herself out of remorse. The blood and knife was found lying under the bed in the master bedroom, along with Margaret's body, but the body of Edward Surlington was never found, and thus never had a proper burial. The only possible and obvious conclusion to where the body of Edward lay would be hidden, somewhere within the mansion itself.