I knew there was something funny about that house the moment I stepped inside because of the creaks of the old wooden floorboards, the strange cat sitting on the stairs to the second floor, and the childlike laughter coming from the kitchen.
The house had been abandoned for many years. I don’t know what compelled me to enter it that fateful night, but the tales of which I have will always haunt me for the rest of my life. I do have one good memory from that awful night. It is the tale of the little girl in the kitchen.
I walked through the door of the abandoned old house on Minno Lane. The door made a loud squeak. Upon entering I found an all black cat sitting on the first step to the second floor. He looked at me with glowing green eyes that felt like they were gazing into my soul. I walked over and went to touch him, only he was not having it and darted up the stairs. Choosing to ignore the feeling of unease I made my way into the main hallway. I looked behind my back every couple of steps.
The eyes of the people pictured on the walls seemed to be following me. I listened to my surroundings as I walked. Something strange happened as I was almost to the kitchen. I heard a giggle. It was bright and airy, like a small girl. I quickly spun around to look behind me only to see nothing there.
I shrugged my shoulders and pushed my long black hair out of my face.
I continued towards the kitchen and the giggles continued. As I reached the kitchen the giggling stopped. I looked around the room. The walls were scorched with black soot. I walked farther into the room when a cold chill ran through my body. Goosebumps rose on my skin and I took a shaky breath.
The giggling returned and I looked around once more. Suddenly a figure appeared out of nowhere. I looked at the figure closely. The figure was a small girl no older than five. She had long black hair and bright green eyes.
I gasped and backed away slowly. As I continued to stare at the figure I realized, she’s me.
I’m dead. I’m dead. I’m dead.
The fire it killed me.