All Nonfiction Bullying Books Academic Author Interviews Celebrity interviews College Articles College Essays Educator of the Year Heroes Interviews Memoir Personal Experience Sports Travel & CultureAll Opinions Bullying Current Events / Politics Discrimination Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking Entertainment / Celebrities Environment Love / Relationships Movies / Music / TV Pop Culture / Trends School / College Social Issues / Civics Spirituality / Religion Sports / Hobbies
- Summer Guide
- College Guide
- Author Interviews
- Celebrity interviews
- College Articles
- College Essays
- Educator of the Year
- Personal Experience
- Travel & Culture
- Current Events / Politics
- Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking
- Entertainment / Celebrities
- Love / Relationships
- Movies / Music / TV
- Pop Culture / Trends
- School / College
- Social Issues / Civics
- Spirituality / Religion
- Sports / Hobbies
- Community Service
- Letters to the Editor
- Pride & Prejudice
- What Matters
What Lies Below
What Lies Below
Why would he do that? Did he do that? I guess I don’t know much about him. Is Dave even his real name? He seemed so nice. But most importantly why? Why did he do that?
Thought Joshame, the owner of a big mansion.
Ding-dong! The doorbell gave its high pitched ring as the butler lets one of the four friends enter the mansion.
“Hi, Hector,” said Ian as he enters the room. He looked over and saw a maid with a feather duster in hand.
Joshame, the owner of the house, came over and said, “Ian, Hector, this is Isabella. She is from Denmark, Europe.”
“Hello,” she said in her European accent.
“Hi,” said Hector and Ian. The three friends sat and greeted some more.
“Alright so Me, Ian, Hector, we are all here,” said Joshame.
“But what about Dave?” said Hector. “He’s still coming right?”
“Of course he’s coming,” said Ian. “He has to come.”
“Well Joshame you have a very fine house.” Said Hector, changing the subject. He looks at the book case and the bar and the spiral stair wells.
“Thank you, Hector . You know this house has been in my family for two centuries.”
“Wow,” Said Ian, mesmerized.
“Yep, first my Great-Great-Great –Great grandfather owned this house and so on and so on.” Joshame was a man who was about a foot taller than everyone else. Who looked very burly. His grey- black hair was always slicked and pulled back with gel. Hector on the other hand was a short fat man. His scraggly beard looked like a grey version of a Santa clause beard and a short ponytail in the back. He always wore khaki pants and plaid shirts. Ian looked like he was involved with a war, and he was. Just one war, he had a close cropped hair cut. He had a long scar that started from his forehead through his eye and ended in his chin. He had that scar from a knife attack that sliced his skin wide open in combat. He was also more of a stocky built person.
Knock-knock. Suddenly everyone’s attention turned to the front door. “Hi everyone,” said Dave. Dave was more of an awkward man he was tall, skinny, and he had a weird limp when he walked.
“How is everyone?” he asked as they answered him. Then Joshame saw something strange in his hand, a small blade. Joshame noticed it and suspiciously said,” Hey Dave what’s in your hand? Dave had a strange look on his face. Almost like a smirk.
“Oh this? You mean this? It’s a pocket knife. I always carry this just in case.” He covered the blade with its case and waited for an apology.
“Oh I’m sorry,” he mumbled Joshame, regretting his apology.
“It’s okay,” said Dave. So the four friends were relaxing, and chilling out and talking. Ian bragged to his friends about how he got his battle wound,
“….Then as I turned the corner, shing! Someone sliced my face open with a knife, and I had a huge gash on my face!” exaggerated Ian. Hector informed them about world news,
“Did you know a volcano in Mexico blew up? informed Hector. and Joshame talked about his house some more, “That part of the house is my favorite I always went there and read when I was younger.” said Joshame, as he went down memory lane. As the friends were talking, Dave stood up and asks where the restroom was. He put down his red wine and his northern Italian Marron Glaze, which was just chestnut candied in sugar syrup and glazed, and leaves the room. Thirty minutes passed.
“He’s been gone for a while,” said Hector.
“Yea he has,” said Joshame. Dave came back five minute later. “I’m back,” He
babbled as he flopped down on the couch. He had that same creepy smirk on his face. It was almost like he had accomplished something. Another hour passed and Joshame notices there is no wine left, that the butler provided them.
As a host he must supply the refreshments. He went down to his two-hundred year old
cellar, which was passed down generation to generation, along with the house. As he walk down the steps, he could feel the darkness of the cellar. He started shuffling towards the front of the cellar. There was a claustrophobic feeling he felt. He vividly heard that “Scrape!” noise, when the bottom of his shoe met the cold concrete. That noise made Joshame nervous. Joshame couldn’t hear anything. There was unusual silence. No wind from outside, no noises from upstairs, nothing. Joshame started to shiver as he pulled the little string connected to a light bulb. Joshame hadn’t been down there in twenty-five years. He rarely went down there by himself.
As little kid Terror always beated inside him when he went down there with his father. Joshame would always run his hand over the sweet smelling wood and payed close attention to where he walked. He distinctly remembered the time he saw a dark shadow in the corner of the cellar. He saw what looked like a tiny circle in this object that had almost looked like an eye. His father told him, “Let’s go back up.” Little Joshame, memorized by the odd shape, stood frozen. He heard a loud “THUMP,” as his dad closed the cellar door, to let him know to come out at once. Joshame ran up the stairs and opened the cellar door and bolted out.
Later he came back down, that same night by himself with a candle and saw that it was just a barrel. But this barrel was different. It was jet black and had a circle on the side of it. That’s why he didn’t recognize the unusual outline, because all of the other barrels were light brown and a little bit smaller. Still to this day he wondered what was inside of it. The cellar was so cold it was almost over whelming. Joshame’s cheeks started to feel numb and cold. As he exhaled he saw that his breath just floated away like fog would move out in to into the open, vast sea. The old cellar was actually clean. Some days he would see the maid come into the cellar, so she must have been cleaning it and refilling the wine and other alcohol. Joshame remembered seeing the different wine names when he was a boy. He recited them in his mind like he did when he was a kid, white wine, red wine, French rose` wine, straw wine, Raisin wine, ice wine. He maneuvered around the old barrels over to the red and white wine. Goose bumps rose on the surface of his arm, as he extended his hand. He rubbed the goose bumps away he tried to steady his shivering hand. Joshame took a deep breath and focused. He pulled out two large bottles of red wine and white wine. He held the bottles up to his face and studied the names to see if they were the ones he wanted. He felt a breeze from out of nowhere. He trembled and quivered as he dropped the white wine bottle. He hugged himself, as he looked down at the yellowish white wine and chipped glass and muttered, “Shoot” Then all of the sudden he noticed something unnatural out of the corner of his eye……
Meanwhile, three friends back in the living room laughed when all of the sudden…”cling, splash, Ahhhh! Nooo!” He screamed at the top of his lungs, as he dropped the other wine bottle.
That noise exploded through the halls and rooms. The sound of that man’s voice sent chills up their spine as if someone ran icy cold water right down their back side. The three friends jumped up and hurried down to the cellar. As the three friends were coming down the stairs, they immediately started to shiver. “Clatter, clatter, clatter.” The sound of Ian’s teeth made everyone nervous. As the three hurried behind Joshame, they look down and gasp. “What the heck!!! Wh-what did you do?!?” Said Hector. Now all together the four friends looked down at a dead perhaps unconscious maid facing upwards. The way she was laying looked like she slipped and fell. “No, I-I-I didn’t do anything. I came down here and she was just like that, lying on the ground,” explained Joshame, nervously.
Ian questioned, “How did this happen, wh-what did she do?”
“Well she must have slipped, and”-Joshame paused as he noticed a hardly visible puddle of blood by the back of her head.
“Oh this is bad, I-I can’t go to jail, “said Ian, fearfully.”
“I know,” says Joshame
Hector said, “We need to inform the police. CALL 911 NOW!”
“Are you mad? Are you crazy?” Then Ian and Hector started to argue. Joshame noticed Dave had the same look on his face just like the pocket knife incident. Dave took a couple steps back. Dave almost had that same smirk on his face. Joshame suspiciously squinted his eyes. The butler came down stairs as shocked as everyone else. The butler said, “I’ll call an ambulance right away.” And he hurried up the stairs. There was another random chilled, freezing breeze, that made everyone stop what they were doing.
“Why is it so cold?” said Ian, as he started trembling.
“Well it is November, and we are pretty far under Joshame's house.” Responded Hector. But Hector just knew there was something unnatural about that old cellar and so did Joshame. “Wait a minute…..” Joshame leaned down to the body and noticed a little wire. Then it instantly became clear. In his mind he thought, A trip wire! But who did it? With his jaw dropped and eyes wide opened, he slowly raised his head up and saw that strange man with a smirk on his face. Then instantly in joshame’s mind he thought, oh no it can’t be him can it? How did he do it?. But most importantly why? Why did he do that? Then he immediately questioned that man’s
character. And their friendship.
Word count: 1,703