Ok, it just goes to show ghosts aren't real...or are they? Here is my story *Based on a true story, but changed around a bit* about a West Virgina haunted farm house. Will the Melbournes survive in their house? Read and find out!
Marianne Melbourne was depressed. She looked at her city home, the loft where she lived in. She loved New York. She loved walking to school on a fresh fall day and smelling coffee and sticky buns from each Starbucks on the cornor she passed by. She loved Central Park, where her mother used to take her when she was little and she would ride the free Merry-Go-Round and get free balloons and sit on the staues. But most of all, she loved her little apartment she shared with her mom, dad, little brother named Sam, and little sister named Rachel.
But that was no more. Marianne was moving to Arkansas because her family wanted to "refresh" and take a break from the City. The poor 13 year old sobbed on her bed when she found out the news. How could her family do this to her?!
After some rides in the car, 2 breakfasts, 2 dinners, and 2 lunches, and after putting up with her brother who was getting anxcious, they finally arrived. The house was old and huge, and it
looked like it was going to storm. The family hurried inside and the moving men unloaded their belongings.
The first few days were a wreck. Every room in the house was disorganized. When it finally all got straightened out, Marianne began to feel a *little* bit at home. She told her parents, "You guys ought to go out and see the town one night....I'll babysitt". Her mom and dad smiled and said, "Okay, that sounds great."
The night came when her parents left. Marianne was listening to music in her bedroom and Rachel was reading. Sam had just been put to bed when crash! Thinking Sam had had a bad dream and gotten up to gone to the bathroom and had dropped something, she hurried to the bathroom.
"Sam...what are you doing?" asked Marianne but then stopped, nobody was in the bathroom. But their rinsing cup was broken. She raised an eyebrow, because that was at the end of the sink. Marianne went to talk to Sam...
TO BE CONTINUED
Marianne Melbourne was depressed. She looked at her city home, the loft where she lived in. She loved New York. She loved walking to school on a fresh fall day and smelling coffee and sticky buns from each Starbucks on the cornor she passed by. She loved Central Park, where her mother used to take her when she was little and she would ride the free Merry-Go-Round and get free balloons and sit on the staues. But most of all, she loved her little apartment she shared with her mom, dad, little brother named Sam, and little sister named Rachel.
But that was no more. Marianne was moving to Arkansas because her family wanted to "refresh" and take a break from the City. The poor 13 year old sobbed on her bed when she found out the news. How could her family do this to her?!
After some rides in the car, 2 breakfasts, 2 dinners, and 2 lunches, and after putting up with her brother who was getting anxcious, they finally arrived. The house was old and huge, and it
looked like it was going to storm. The family hurried inside and the moving men unloaded their belongings.
The first few days were a wreck. Every room in the house was disorganized. When it finally all got straightened out, Marianne began to feel a *little* bit at home. She told her parents, "You guys ought to go out and see the town one night....I'll babysitt". Her mom and dad smiled and said, "Okay, that sounds great."
The night came when her parents left. Marianne was listening to music in her bedroom and Rachel was reading. Sam had just been put to bed when crash! Thinking Sam had had a bad dream and gotten up to gone to the bathroom and had dropped something, she hurried to the bathroom.
"Sam...what are you doing?" asked Marianne but then stopped, nobody was in the bathroom. But their rinsing cup was broken. She raised an eyebrow, because that was at the end of the sink. Marianne went to talk to Sam...
TO BE CONTINUED