The Murder
“They say this house is haunted.” the man chuckles. “That’s all talk if you ask me.”“Are you sure?” my mother says frightened.
The man shakes his head. “This is the safest house here. Top-notch security, and everything.”
“Oh,” she says nervously. We carefully walk inside, unsure of what we just had heard. I didn’t know what was worse, living in a haunted house, or being homeless. Because if that was true, I sure wouldn’t mind being homeless.
The rooms were covered in colorful paintings and fascinating furniture sat silent. A fireplace was heated, and kitchen appliances were already there. The basement was finished, and we discovered an ice room. The floors creaked a lot, and especially when I opened the doors. “That’s creepy.” I heard my mother whisper. When I turned to see what she was looking at, I didn’t see anything. “Do you see that?” she asks me in hushed voice. I shook my head. “Shhh, don’t say anything.” she whispers. She carefully creeps downstairs, trying to find whatever she was looking for.
The man and I wait patiently. Then he starts conversation. “So, what’s your name young lady?”
“Summer, Summer Grace.”
He smiles. “What a beautiful name. Nice to meet you, Summer.” he sighs. “My name is Langston Burkes.” he looks towards the ceiling. “I had a beautiful daughter, that looked just like you. She died of smallpox, along with my wife Suzanne.”
“I’m sorry to hear that, Mr. Burkes.”
“Just call me Langston.” he tells me. I nod. Suddenly we hear screaming coming from underneath the stairs.
“Momma!” I scream. She doesn’t answer. “Should we go investigate?” Langston shrugs.
“I guess.” he confirms in an unsure tone. “I don’t know, it just doesn’t seem safe.” The screaming continues.
“But what if my mother is down there screaming?”
“She could be, but sometimes you have to care about yourself. And that’s not all that-”
“That’s my mother, you hear!” I cut him off. “I’m going to go down there, whether you like it or not!”
He puts his hands up. “Okay, okay fine!” He says following me downstairs. “I haven’t seen this part of the house before, that’s bizarre.” Cobwebs and dust covered the walls. As we came near the staircase, I noticed something was written in poor writing.
“Do you see that?” I ask Langston. He nods.
“It says you’re next.”
“What could that mean?” I shake my head. “Momma?” No one responds. Below, I saw the body of my dear mother. “Momma!” I cry. “Tell me she’s not dead, Langston!” Tears roll down my cheek.
“I’m sorry my dear, Summer.” he puts his arm around me in comfort. “Let’s get out of here.” I nod quickly and hurry on out with him, leaving my dear mother behind.
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