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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/2089158
by Meghan
Rated: E · Short Story · Dark · #2089158
A lonely widow returns from the grave
The year 1993, was when me and my brother, Stan, did a ghost hunt at Jackamoor Manor House. It once belonged to a Mrs Amesbury, a widow, who shortly died of a broken heart, however, we learned soon, that she's still there, in the house.
Now it took a lot to get my brother to come with me, to get him to man up. But once I did get him to join me, he told me I had lost my mind to dare enter a place.
We came to Jackamoor at half past 9, when the street was sleeping, and we would find the ghost.
We gradually made it into the house, with a cold chill running down our spine. We knew we were not alone, with nowhere else to hide. With my brother gripping my hand tightly, we climbed the stairs. And we came to the nursery, which gave us the creeps.
Satisfied no one was there, I remember I left the room first, and then...
BANG!
I turned, Stan had been locked in! He yelled and screamed, I tried to open the door. Until she saw me, Mrs Amesbury, glaring at me coldly, that panic hit me, and I fainted.
This story haunts me every day, that I could have saved my brother. He died that day, what more can I say, Ille never go to Jackamoor again.
© Copyright 2016 Meghan (mhcoh7 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/2089158