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
He Had Warned Her About the Book
He had warned her about the book. Now it was too late. Every one of her dreadful nightmares have come alive, and out to get her. She was trapped in a jungle filled with her greatest fear, Death.
Two nights ago, she had gone to the library for a new book. Chelsea was a very active reader, and dreamed of being in a book herself. Chelsea lived in a very small suburb, where nothing special ever happened. Her boring life tugged on with books as her only hope. Usually, her dreams wandered wherever there was adventure.
As she walked to the library, she thought of Mr. Linden. He was a kind librarian, almost like a second father to Chelsea. He had read to her ever since she learned how to get to the library. The day was a dull one, very rainy, and chilly. She walked into the library, shuddered, and said:
“Hi, Mr. Linden I have four books to return for you”
“Oh, hi Chels, thanks so much, and right on time too.”
“Anything new in this small town?”
“ I just got in a few new books”
Mr. Linden picked up a pile of books, and started to read the titles out loud.
“Living in the Country”
“Places in America”
“Secrets beyond Life”
“Cool, what is that one about?”
“It’s about a girl named Carla, who finds out that she is a foster child”
“Read it, next”
Then, he stopped. Mr. Linden never looked this way. His face turned pale, and he started to shake as if he was sick with a bad fever.
“No, no, not this one, NO!”
“What is it? Tell me the title!”
“A Dream Come True”
“Ooh sounds interesting, I want it”
“NO, NO, NO! Not now, later, Chelsea please!”
“No Mr. Linden. If I wait, then there will be a line for it.”
“No Chelsea, I will save it, please not now”
It was too late. Chelsea had already taken the book, and was walking out the door.
The next two days went by the same boring way. The book was amazing, just like any other one of Mr. Linden’s books. Each chapter got better and better leaving Chelsea at heart pounding cliffhangers.
That day, Chelsea couldn’t wait until night when she got to lay down in her cozy bed, and read this interesting book. Finally, night came, and Chelsea didn’t take her time to wash up, or put on her pajamas. She slipped into bed, and grabbed the book off the cabinet top. “The horrifying day was over, no big deal. Nothing serious happened.” She said to herself. Chelsea temptingly opened the book to page 253, and started reading. The book took her on an adventure, like always. Doing dangerous tasks in your dream is no sweat, but this all changed tonight.
This particular chapter led her into the jungle where green vines, and trees grew allover, surrounded by grass. The enticing words made Chelsea even more attracted to the book, and soon she dozed off. She saw herself in the shoes of the main character, Richard. He was a bold explorer searching for a new species of snake. As Chelsea walked through the immense jungle, she saw scrutinizing monkeys, agile cheetahs, devious snakes, and flashy flamingoes. What attracted her most weren’t the animals but the vines weaving back and forth around every tree. It was as if they were drawing a painting, and with each curve a new picture came too life.
The dream went on, and on, and Chelsea fell into a deep sleep. The book was alongside of her, opened. Then, a strange event happened. The book started growing vines. The vines grew rapidly, shooting out in quick spurs. In just five minutes, her room was covered in these beautiful vines. Chelsea was still in deep sleep.
Suddenly, she felt a shake. She opened her eyes, and saw the vines. She tried to get up, but she couldn’t. She was tightly wrapped around by vines, and chocking. Before her eyes closed she saw the beautiful pictures, except now they were evil looking and cruel.
Then a familiar voice.
“No! Not Yet Chelsea, NO!”
She was trapped in a jungle filled with her greatest fear death and darkness.
June 6, 2006 – The day Chelsea Garment dies. The lawyers say it was suicide, but you never know, dreams do come true.
Boo! I scared you? Oh, I didn’t. This place is driving me nuts. I can’t sleep, can’t eat, I can’t even walk. The last 300 years have been walking on me. This house has been bossing me around since that one day in the 7th grade when I had to go and explore. It was a horrible day like any other in my life I was walking with Mallory and Steph. “Are you guys ready?” Mallory asked in her rough voice. She was talking about the house, the last house on our block. It was black, rundown. It would screech, crack and sometimes even open itself. Our goal was to go inside and find the treasure of the Bascombe family and hopefully come out. Nobody answered Mallory.
As we walked closer and closer to the Bascombe house the green trees got browner and browner. With every step the town seemed to look worse and worse. The flowers were leaning over, dieing. It was like a field of bad coming from the house. When we crossed it I could feel myself getting horribly sick and weak. My head was sore and I felt like was torn in half. It was Like 2 people were pulling on my arms. I turned to Steph and Mallory but they were perfectly fine. It was me the house wanted. I was the one who it wanted to haunt forever.
I was frightened and my soul was turning back but the pull of the house was stronger than the power of my soul. I saw the house. It looked as if it was laughing evilly. All of a sudden I heard a voice in my head. It was low and it was a whisper. It said,”Ha ha I got you now Judy. You won’t escape from me any more” I felt my brain shake, like a brain freeze but much worse. The last thing I saw before I fainted was Mallory staring at me like I was a ghost.
I knew why it wanted me. I was the 13 year old girl living in house # 13 on the corner of thirteen st. and 13th ave. I was scared. Every 13 year old girl who lived in my house had something bad happen and the first one was Emily Bscombe living with her brother and mother. She was a nice girl (people say) and obeyed her mother but that didn’t matter. She was killed on her birthday by a man not recorded to be alive.
When I opened my eyes I saw darkness. It was pitch black. I tried to get up but my feet felt paralyzed. I reached my hands toward my head. I felt a cold cloth on my head. I stretched it further and felt my backpack, pulled it forward and opened it. I found my flashlight that I took from the science lab. I switched it on and turned it to my legs to see why they felt that way. For a second I got scared but then I felt better. There was a huge golden retriever on my legs. It was all scratched up. There were patches on its body with no fur. It got up and I saw a wound on its leg. I thought it would hurt me but then surprisingly it got up and walked to my head, picked up the cloth walked to another room and came back with a wetter and colder cloth.
I was surprised at what the dog did. I thought that it was the one that the cloth on me in the first place. Maybe it was the one that saved me. Can't be, that’s just a dog. The dog looked at me and then gave me a wet lick. I looked at its bleeding leg again, it was very bad. I ripped a piece of my shirt and wrapped it around his wound. As I looked at the dog again I noticed a tag on its neck, it said,” Bustir”. The name wasn’t what made me think about the dog’s life and how it got here but how it was written. It was written with a pen on a crumpled piece of paper. The paper was tied onto its neck with a brown string. The letters were crooked and looked somewhat like my brothers handwriting. The writing reminded me of a little first grader. Not to mention that it was Bustir instead of Buster.
Buster walked up to me and started to pick me up. I got up and petted him cautiously. Buster seemed to enjoy it. He barked and turned his head toward the door like he was pointing to the door. I walked towards it with buster. He pushed the door with his furry stomach and let me walk through. To my amazement there was a kitchen, a rather old one. It had spider webs in the corners. Buster walked to the dusty sink and turned the water on with his paw. Then he grabbed a cracked plastic bowl from the floor and filled it up with water. What happened next I was very surprised to see; Buster brought the bowl over to me and barked. At first I didn’t understand what this meant but then I realized that he was giving me a drink. I was thirsty so I grabbed it and drank the whole bowl.
Through out the day we bonded more and more with buster. We played ball with a rock and played fetch with a stick. I was so distracted that I didn’t even notice that I was in the house the whole time. By 5:00 I was very tired and very hungry so I decided to go home and come back the next day to visit buster. I got my backpack and started towards the door. I walked slowly looking around the place. There were sofas that were all dirty and ripped. I imagined that once they were very beautiful and classy but over the years they rotted and became so disgusting. I looked at the stairs that were once polished mahogany wood with designs. Now these steps are all dusty and very scratched up.
I was a few feet away from the open door when the voice in my head came back now louder and rougher. “You’re not going anywhere. You are mine I’ve got you in my clutches now.” My head went sore again and my body went numb. Even with these feelings I tried to run towards the door but fell halfway onto the squeaky floorboards. I got up and started to crawl. With each movement the floorboards shock as if there was nothing underneath supporting them. I started to crawl faster when the door slammed hitting me straight on the head. I fell unconscious for about an hour.
I woke up from the lick of buster on my face. This time I got up right away onto my feet, walked around thinking to myself what happened and if it was really true. When I made up my mind I said, “Come on Buster we’re going to get out of this house one way or another.” Buster barked in response and followed me up the stairs I saw when I was walking to the door. I hade to swing my hands around the place wildly because there were spider webs everywhere. We got up to the top and looked down from the balcony. “Wow buster this is no joke!”
I was so surprised at what I saw that I nearly fell off the balcony. On the floorboards it said in carved words “You’re Mine”. Buster wasn’t paying any attention to what was there. He was looking at the room in the end of the hallway. There was a light in there coming from a candle. I glanced at it and didn’t realize what was really there. The candle was moving! It was going in circles as if it were flying. I walked there with Buster by my side. Slowly, I opened the door wider and turned on my flashlight. There was nothing, just the candle flying hypnotizing whoever watched it for more than 10 minutes. Buster started barking loudly and wildly into space. A man appeared in front of us holding the candle. “Aha so your friend has found me” he said. “A smart dog he is, living in this house for longer than I did.” I yelled, “You don’t touch him he’s my friend” The man replied, “Oh yeah? Buster, attack!”
At this command buster howled. A bunch of dogs ran and answered to his howl. They walked around me roaring and barking. They jumped on me altogether and started to bite. I thought I was dead but I wasn’t. I could feel everything. I felt them ripping through my flesh and blood splashing as they shook me wildly with their teeth. I could feel each dog’s teeth sink into me and then rip out. It was like getting slammed into the wall or getting hit by a car. A cold feeling fell over me and I closed my eyes hoping to wake up in a terrible dream.
That’s the story of how I got here. I am now a 300 year old ghost spaniel. I am one of the dogs that attack whoever comes into this house. To tell you the truth having been bitten by vampire dogs isn’t as bad.