The Haunted: Us | Teen Ink

The Haunted: Us

March 25, 2010
By Karina BRONZE, Houston, Texas
Karina BRONZE, Houston, Texas
1 article 0 photos 0 comments

“Open the door. This isn’t funny you guys. Please, just open the door!” I screamed out to my so called friends. Inside the closet I could feel the walls closing in on me. The room was narrow and very small. My hand was getting sweaty from holding the door knob. My cries turned into worries. What if this wasn’t a joke? What if I was the only survivor? What if I was next?

I stood there, silent, giving up hope. There was no use of crying, because no matter how much I did, help didn’t arrive. I thought of my best friend, Mojo. I could still hear her cries running through the walls. She had held on tight to me, scratched me, but I fought for her to let me go and locked her in the smelly restroom just like Ann had told me. They knew she trusted me, they knew she was my best friend, and they knew she wasn’t going to be the only one being locked in.

My whole body raged in anger. “No more!” I screamed out. Standing in the back of the wall, I raced towards the door, like a bull running towards the red cape. “Bang!” Nothing, I stood in the back once more, giving up wasn’t going to be one of my choices. The second time, I raced with more force. My arm pushed the door as hard as it could. As I heard the wood crashing into the floor, I grasped my arm tightly.

I got out and smelled the old and haunted air. I was glad I was free. Running from room to room, I stayed quiet but quick. The walls were covered with frames of ancient women; it gave me the creeps with all their eyes on me. There were cobwebs around them. The walls were grey and dull. On every corner, dust bunnies moved as I rushed through them. The wood was so old, even the smallest steps I took echoed into the air.

At last I reached a familiar door I turned the knob and pushed the door in just enough for me to fit in. “Mojo! Mojo! Are you in here?” My words hid in the ancient furniture as I spoke. I looked everywhere for the restroom door. My hand shook as I reached out for the rusty knob. One twist and the door yanked open. As soon as I walked in, a bad odor ran through my nose. My insides began to turn and throb in my stomach. It was unpleasant and gross. I looked on the floor- there a girl laid motionless. Dry blood was tattooed to her forehead. Her pale skin made her lips invisible. I stood in shock, what could I do? Facing the truth was hard and the truth was she was already dead. In my throat I felt a knot tying up. I couldn’t breathe. Slowly, I backed away. Once out of the room, I caught my breath. I moved toward the hall and retrieved.

I knew I wasn’t alone, I could feel it. Looking back and forth every once in a while, I wasn’t going to let my guard down. I looked forward, but just as I was completely turned around, I felt a shocking pain sting my back. As the pain ran through my spine, I knew I deserved this. I was being such a jerk, but now that I realized it, it was too late. My mom’s words ran through my head, “Keep your enemies close, and keep your friends closer.”



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