Have you ever thought what it would be like to sleep in a old abondonded house? Me neither, but I never thought I would have to move into one where someone had died from murder!
My dad and I had been best friends for years since mom died. Dad decided he would move and start fresh. A old house stood on the brink of a graveyard in Liverpool. Dad and I decided it would need some work so we got together and worked on our rooms.
I was painting the last wall in my room a dark pink. Dad was in his room on a break having a coffee and sorting the carpeting for every room in the house. Suddenly the temperature dropped in my room. The light flickered and went out. I almost screamed when I saw the walls brighten slightly. It turned to a blood red and it dripped from the light. I manged a croke. “DAD! HELP ME!” I choked. The light flashed on and the walls flashed back to normal. Dad burst in with paint all over him and a phone in one hand. “What? Eva, whats going on?” He said tapping me lightly. I gulped and maged to whispered a nothing.
The next day I worked on Dad’s room and he did mine. But dad didn’t see the things I saw. That night I clambered into my bed and switched on my lamp. Suddenly there was a light tapping of nails against glass. I flung myself off the bed and gripped my lamp to my chest. I slowly approched the window. It stopped. I stopped dead in my tracks when it started louder. I drew the curtains and screamed but noting came from my mouth. My lamp was pulled from my arms and flung across the room. I stared at the face outside my window. It smiled showing long, pointed fangs. “Now you see me…Now you don’t!” It mouthed and then it was gone.
I explained what had happened to dad but he laughed. The next night I kept the window closed and the curtains open. I crawled under the covers as the tapping started again.
Every night that happens but I promised myself I would never see what he did to me when IF I let him in.