Moving was not too catastrophic, there were a few moments here and there, but overall we made it.
I have now been in the house for six weeks, and I have never felt more terrified, I can’t sleep, I can’t eat, I feel at though I can’t even breathe in this evil place.
The “incident” as everyone calls it, happened the sixth day of living in the house. Everything went along as every other day before. I woke up, brushed my teeth, ate breakfast, watched …show more content…
Sadly enough, I soon came to find out the basement only had one exit, which was no longer an option for me to use. Instantly I thought that if I could not get out I must find a way to learn more about what I was down here with. So I began yelling “HELLO?, HELLOOOO?”. There was no response. I was now waving my flashlight around to hopefully get even the slightest glimpse of what I had saw a few minutes ago. While I was looking for the mysterious shadow, I noticed a few things about my intimidating location. First I saw a few rusted paint buckets that were surrounded by cobweb, along with that I saw sets of old wooden shelves holding garden tools that my father would soon put in the new garage. The walls looked like something out of an old horror movie. That is when I started thinking of my family. I had no clue whether I would ever see them again. I slowly started to remember the last words I had said to them. Then I knew I could not pity myself. I had to get out of here! Little did I know that was just the …show more content…
My whole family was right there by my side and I was so grateful for that. A doctor wearing blue scrubs then walked through door with an X-ray of my skull. He asked me “How are you feeling?” I replied that I was fine. Then he asked “Do you remember what happened to you?” All I could think was how could I possibly forget. I was attacked by a giant shadow! I knew if I ever said that out loud they would put me in a mental asylum, so I simply told the doctor “No.” Then he began to tell me that I had fallen down the stairs to the basement, and that my father had found me when he went to get another bucket of paint for the garage. They told me I was in bad shape when they found me, but I made a full recovery. The doctor had finished telling me that it was all just a nightmare I had while I was unconscious, and you know what. I probably would have believed that, but there was just one thing. When I went to reach for the hospital TV remote, I was missing just one