The Abandoned Graveyard
I heard my blood pounding strongly in my ears.
We were lost.
And by we I mean my older twin brother Ben and I. We were supposed to be on a school trip, visiting a park. Fortunately for us, we walked away from the group while looking at the very dusty swings. They literally looked like they were older than my great-grandpa. But because of how good my brother was with directions, note the sarcasm, we got lost on the way back to find them. Then we stumbled across an abandoned, spooky graveyard. We both beamed at each other, filled with excitement.
Ben and I are only thirteen years old, fourteen on the first of April, but we love, no scratch that, adore adventure. It’s quite funny really, because our parents are the opposite, being calm introverts, (unlike us, wild extroverts), has made us have a very boring childhood.
Lost in thought, I ran into Ben, almost falling onto my face. Confused and dizzy from the impact, it took me a long time to figure out why Ben suddenly stopped.
There was a huge mansion. Waiting to be explored.
No words said, my partner in crime and I smirked at each other and ventured towards the mansion, not caring what might be lurking inside.
Here goes nothing.
We were met with complete darkness. It was unusually cold in the house. Not temperature cold, but the creepy, scary, haunted kind of cold.
“Do you think someone’s in here?” asked Ben, his voice filled with wonderment.
“No, I don’t think so. It feels kind of…empty,” I replied warily.
Even though we were whispering, our voices still carried loudly into the large, dark space.
Ben just nodded, not knowing what to say. He looked around, taking in the living room. I did the same.
We started looking around the other rooms, studying closely the furniture and rusty jewelry in the bedrooms. Everything looked normal, until…
I gasped. Not believing my eyes. Ben looked over, his facial features filled with concern and uncertainty.
There was dried blood on the floor.
Next to the pool of blood, was a kitchen knife, shimmering in the now moonlit sky.
“What happened here?” I asked, my voice shaking slightly. As much as we like adventure, we didn’t exactly find a murder scene before.
“I have no idea,” Ben replied, fully alert now.
I walked over to the mirror. There were words written on it with…blood.
“Don’t touch anything,” ordered Ben, his voice gentle but firm.
I looked over at him, my eyes filled with fear. I nodded. Scared but determined, I turned back towards the bloody mess of a mirror. I read the words, hesitating at first, but working up the courage after telling myself to be brave. It read:
Revenge At Its Finest.
My hands shaking like crazy, I started looking for clues. Trying to figure out what, how, when and why this happened. What did the victim do to make the murderer want revenge? Was this a long time ago? Are the people that lived here buried in the graveyard at the front of the house? I was curious to know all the answers to these questions, ignoring all my brother’s protests.
“Let’s just get out of here. Pretend it’s all a bad dream,” he said.
“No Ben, I want to know what happened. I will always regret my decision if I don’t figure out what happened,” I said determinedly.
“Please sis!” He begged me, pleading with me to listen to him.
“Nope,” I answered, stubbornly.
I continued searching for answers, my brother’s pleading making me hesitate a bit. I thought the situation through. If I looked for the clues and found the answers I was looking for, Ben and I would probably be in trouble. It’s not our place to go into people’s business. And the police would have found out what happened because the crime scene looked quite old.
After I made my decision, I turned to my brother and said,
“OK, let’s get out of here.”
Unfortunately, luck wasn’t on our side that day because at that exact moment, we heard a loud BANG!
The doors to all the exits were closed.
We were locked in.
My brother and I looked at each other. It was too late.
Because of my stubbornness, we were locked inside a mansion, which was probably where a murder took place before.
“I am so sorry!” I sobbed to my brother, feeling really bad.
“It’s not your fault. We have to keep calm to find a way out,” replied my brother calmly.
Ben had ambitions to be a police officer when he graduated college later in life. That’s why he was always the calmer one in hard times. While I always panicked, he found solutions.
“But I thought this house was empty! Who might be here?” I asked, puzzled.
Ben shrugged, not knowing the answer.
“We should find a way out while the door to this room is still open,” he stated.
I just nodded. I didn’t want to object again as it didn’t get us anywhere last time.
Ben started to walk towards the door. He paused, waiting for me to follow him. I rushed to him, scared out of my mind. Together, we tiptoed, looking around. Trying to find an exit to this horrid nightmare.
We passed hallways with cobwebs on the walls, rooms with an uninviting silence to them and bathrooms with a disgusting stink. We saw, heard, touched and smelled indescribable things. Things you would only think of in scary movies. If only we got out in time. If only I listened to my twin brother. If only.
I heard a loud CLANK!
While I was questioning my whole life existence, my brother was already on the other side of the room holding half a floral china teacup. The other half of it was on the dusty carpet, broken into hundreds of tiny pieces, along with five other plates and cups.
My brother looked up at me, his face filled with horror and guilt of what he did.
It took me a second to register what happened. When I finally understood that Ben broke tons of plates and cups, and that because of the loud noise this made, the person in the house would hear it and know where we were. It was too late. We heard footsteps.
I was too slow again.
Luckily, Ben pushed me under the bed to hide. We were covered by the bedsheets that fell to the ground.
We heard heavy footsteps thudding in the direction of the room we were hiding in.
We both held our breaths, not daring to move or even blink, in case we made a sound.
The person’s footsteps were approaching us. But at the last minute, they turned and walked towards the room next to us.
The sounds that we heard were terrifying. We heard a squeaking sound, as if nails were scratching at a chalkboard. As if someone was opening a door that has not been open for a very long time. I realised that it really was a door. After a few minutes, there was silence. Then we heard another door opening.
The person was opening the door to the room we were hiding in!
Ben and I looked at each other, fully terrified. Ben signaled me to be quiet (as if I was going to speak!). I rolled my eyes but it was short-lived as we heard a soft clanking sound. Then we heard a voice, barely above a whisper. It was too quiet for us to make out.
The person kept walking around the room, pacing back and forth, until suddenly, they stopped. Maybe it was even an it. Maybe this thing wasn’t even a human. What if they were an alien? Or a robot?
My thoughts were interrupted by a gentle nudge from my brother. I looked up at him confused. My confusion turned into horror when I heard footsteps proceeding towards the bed we were hiding under.
The footsteps stopped when they were right next to the wooden, dusty bed that was used as a cover object for us to hide under.
The person was about to pull the cover off when they thought better of it and whispered softly instead:
“I know you’re under there.”
My heart stopped beating for the hundredth time tonight.
Then I realised, the voice belonged to a female. It was so familiar. But I just couldn’t place my finger on it.
By the look on my twin’s face, I guess he didn’t remember her name either.
“You don’t have to worry children, I am here,” she said calmly. “Come out from under there, Olivia. You too, Ben.”
At that moment, reality hit me like a ton of bricks.
It was Mrs. Wood. Our teacher!
Ben tugged at my hand, silently urging me to get up. I refused to do so. What if it wasn’t Mrs. Wood? What if it was a robot pretending to be her? Anything was possible.
I put my finger on my lips, shushing my brother.
“Come out now children, the other kids are waiting for us in the park. We can’t keep them waiting now can we?” Mrs. Wood whispered.
Ben tugged my hand stronger than before. I ignored him, waiting for Mrs. Wood to prove to us that she meant no harm.
Our teacher took our silence as a sign of hesitation and doubt.
“Do you remember the first day of school? You pulled a prank on me and I had to contact your parents. You have disliked me ever since,” she finished with a light chuckle.
“Very well,” I whispered very softly to my eager brother as I slowly rose from our hiding place.
I stood up, looking at Mrs. Wood suspiciously, then stretched. After I was satisfied that our teacher was actually our teacher, and not some weird alien/robot, I asked, “How did you get in?”
“There was a broken window in the living room,” she answered gently.
“Let’s go then,” urged Ben, a little shakily.
We all nodded and Mrs. Wood started leading us. Ben and I followed as we didn’t know where to go.
Slowly and carefully, we walked towards the pitch-black living room. The only light was coming from the moon through the broken window at the corner of the room.
Relief flooded over me.
We were almost free. Just a few more steps until freedom. Until this whole nightmare was over.
I looked over at my brother, there was such huge relief in his eyes.
We held each other’s hands as we followed our teacher to the broken window. We could hear the loud, soft whistling of the wind outside of the mansion.
Mrs. Wood climbed through the hole, which was the perfect size for a grown human, and stood on the other side of the window, patiently waiting for Ben and I to follow her.
I walked over and climbed out to where Mrs. Wood was, Ben following suit.
I sighed, thankful that all this was finally finished.
We all walked in direction of the park. At the last minute, I turned and looked at the mansion. A figure looked right back at me with its black, empty orbs. Then, it raised its hands. Instead of normal nails, it had super long nails, as sharp as brand new knives. The figure grinned, its sharp razor-like, yellow teeth showed. There was blood smeared all over its mouth.
I shook my head, terrified. Surely I was just hallucinating from lack of sleep, right? I was just tired and hungry and thirsty.
I looked back at the mansion. The figure disappeared. But not before it waved a long, drawn-out wave at me.
“Mrs. Wood, were you the one that closed all the exits?” I asked.
“No, I thought you did that,” she answered.
“What about the really loud footsteps you made when coming into the bedroom? And did you go into the room next to us first?” I asked again, silently pleading myself to be wrong.
“No, that wasn’t me either. I took off my shoes, so I didn’t make a sound. I didn’t go into the bedroom next to you first. I went into your room right away. It took me a while to reach the place you were hiding in when I heard something breaking as I was all the way on the other side of the mansion,” she replied. “Why, do you need anything?”
“No, it’s fine. It’s nothing,” I whispered shakily.
No, it couldn’t be, could it?! It wouldn’t be possible, would it?
The figure’s creepy, knowing smile crossed my mind.
I let my thoughts carry me through possibilities all the way back to school on the bus.
But I had a gut feeling that no matter how hard or long I tried reasoning with myself, it wouldn’t work because I knew that the figure would always be watching me, haunting me. Hunting me.
I never knew why there was blood on the floor or why there was blood used as ink to write a threat on the mirror.
I never went back to the Abandoned Graveyard.