garote | 8th grade creative writing: Five Senses

Number 97 -- 9/20/89 -- Final Draft -- Five Senses -- Period II

I looked down the entry hall and saw dust everywhere. Dusty sunlight fell through the grime-streaked windows at crazy angles, adding a dim glow to the rotted floor. There was glass in the windows, and I thought that odd, since surely reckless children would have broken them long ago, but it was clear by the layers of dust that this place had not been touched for years.

I began to walk down the hall, hearing the floorboards beneath me creak uneasily. At any moment I could go crashing through the floor with a puff of dust, to fall into the patient jaws of the monsters I could not stop from imagining.

About halfway down the entryway hall, I noticed a painting to my right, and turned to look at it. It was of an aged man with evil black eyes. The canvas had holes in several places, and also reeked of decay. Looking into the man's eyes, a chill rushed through me, for he looked familiar!

Suddenly, the picture fell from the wall and hit the floor with a rotted crunch. Of all the times for that picture to fall, it had to do it right in front of me! I stood frozen wondering whether I should run or not. I decided that the sooner I left, the better.

I ran down the hallway, hearing the floorboards scream under my weight. Just a few feet from the doorway, my foot broke through. Crazy with fear, I tried to wrench my foot free. But in doing so, the hole widened, and a whole section of the floor fell in, taking me, twisting, screaming, down into the darkness.