I wrote this originally for an English Homework.
It's a superstitious/scary story aimed at children and young teens :)
Early September, golden leaves upon damp brown branches. Birds skiing across a canvas spread with golden water colours, of every shade, the distant melody of the local ice cream van …and a smell of… paint?
“Push not pull!” The eldest daughter of the Fletcher family exclaimed.
“I’m trying!!” Her younger sister yelled pushing against the huge cardboard box she and her sister have been carrying.
“Well try harder, Lizzie”, she ordered as she turned her head to look behind, “Oh, we’re at the bottom of the stairs now, lift!!”
Lizzie sulked but did as she was told, she held her breathe as she felt her knuckles go white, “Why don’t you try being at the bottom for once and stop being bossy!”
“You think it’s easy walking backwards?!” her sister answered glaring at her, “and I am most definitely NOT bossy!”
“Geez, Meggie, what is in this box?!” Lizzie cried getting frustrated, “it’s as heavy as an elephant!”
“It must be something really important for dad to make us take it back up to the attic again; I thought this was a ‘new’ house!” Meggie replied absentmindedly as her foot slipped on -what seems to be- the seventh step of the wooden stairway sending her, her sister and the box flying down the steps but they didn’t land with a ‘crash’ more of a ‘thud’.
“Ouch!” Lizzie cursed as she sat up scratching her head.
The entire hallway was now furnished with several little boxes and bags; each dressed with an unpleasant coat of cobweb. Must have been from that box, Lizzie thought as she scanned the room for her sister.
“Erugh” Meggie spluttered a few paces away from Lizzie, “Cobwebs…nice”
“Hey, isn’t there a story about the old gloomy attic?” Lizzie questioned surrounded by boxes as she leaned against the creamy freshly painted wall.
“Yeah, I guess, but I don’t really want to tell it again” Meggie answered uncomfortably pushing a few bags away and dusting herself off.
Lizzie turned herself to face her older sister, “Come on, just once, please?”
Not long ago there was a little girl with hair as blonde as a cornfield tied back in pigtails with two lilac ribbons. On her fair, peachy skin lay eyes as green as emeralds and a cute buttoned nose. She was always seen in a red patterned dress with a doll at her side which looked a lot like her.
She lived a wealthy life in a big house with her parents-they were really happy, until one day when her mother fell ill and passed away. A few weeks after her dad remarried with a lady- unpleasant in many ways.
Months later, the little girl’s dad went abroad for unknown reasons; that’s when everything changed. The Step-Mother got her to do all the chores in the house; everything she could imagine. She had to wake up early every morning with her doll and work from 6 o’ clock to 9, ‘till her hands were sore, back ached and feet were numb. The girl was really upset after a month in her step-mother’s cruel custody and decided to write to her father for help- only to find out that he had moved on.
Days flew by like birds and the chores became so heavy it was unbearable! The little girl couldn’t take any more of it, something had to be done!
That night around midnight, she crept out of her bed and tip toed down the wooden stairway, across the chestnut hallways and into the dark kitchen. As if she was in a trance, she opened the drawer and reaches for the kitchen knife as her fringe covered her face with guilt.
It was thundering outside, and a long shadow was cast as her little feet pittered and pattered against the floorboards, past her bedroom, past the bathroom and into her step-mother’s room. The door creaked slightly as a crash of thunder sounded outside, highlighting the little figures at the door. Slowly and carefully she walked balancing her steps each time. Slowly and carefully she walked straight to the occupied bed. She held the blade high above her head ready to launch when suddenly a bolt of lightning following by a crash woke the mistress from her sleep. She was horrified when she finally understood what was going to happen next. Her lips began to quiver and her eyes panicked but both of them were motionless.
There was no colour in the little girl’s eyes or cheeks; she looked like she was part of a black-white movie. A bolt of lightning shook the girl back to her senses as a crash of thunder flung the elegant window open wide. She staggered backwards realising what she was about to do, eyes in a panic. She started to stutter but with a last bolt of lightning… she was gone.
“…And so nothing was left but the doll… the doll that resembled her that is. She was put in the attic and has been there ever since, but even today on stormy nights you can hear little footsteps pittering and pattering against the floorboards…” Meggie said as she gathered the last of the bags and boxes, “Some people think that the little girl’s spirit had gone into that doll the moment the lightning hit but… probably just another myth…”
“Wow,” Lizzie commented, eyes widened, “I’m so glad that’s just a story because… that would be really scary.”
“Haha, I’m sure,” Meggie smiled as she picked up the last bag. She started laughing nervously, “So umm… what should we do with this?”
Meggie bit her lip and Lizzie’s heart missed a beat, as out of the bag popped a doll with hair as blonde as a cornfield tied back in pigtails with two lilac ribbons. She wore a tattered red patterned dress and on her fair, peachy skin lay eyes as green as emeralds and a cute buttoned nose…