I had left that morning to get a possible site of who all would be there, and as my luck would have I was one of the last to get there; and I could understand why. The college was about five stories or more tall and at least as wide as the White House.
Well my friends seen me and moved toward the back with me. The back was good and well for me, but my friends aren't like me. As the tour commenced he took us to the room he called "The Forsaken Place" He told us to spend hardly any time in there. I strayed away as the group commenced forth; though my friends had tried to persuade me to stay with them, but then were convinced I wouldn't, so said they wouldn't rat (tell) on me. I was cautious until I no longer heard them and then turned to face "The Forsaken Place" I was kind of freaked by what I saw on the door. I seen the face of a demon, it seemed to be embedded in the wood itself. After I opened the door a strange sense of death and caution overwhelmed me. I entered the room and shut the door and turned on a flashlight. As I entered the center of the room the first of the weird things started to happen.
I heard slamming and then something hit me in the back, I turned around and looked on the floor. An old hairbrush lay there. As I bent to pick it up I was pushed backward, hitting the wall. This time I sat there, to freak'n' scared to move. I closed my eyes hoping it was a dream but I was wrong. When I opened them some things had changed; without a sound there were covers by the closet, desk drawers on the floor, but the weirdest thing that got to me was that the mirror on the dresser was broken. I never heard it break, and it wasn't broken when I came in. I got up and went to examine the mirror. Bad mistake. I approached the mirror and a dresser drawer hit me in the stomach. I wasn't sure what to do after that but then I looked up and turned around and seen something that made me become like my friends. I seen symbols written in blood, symbols from the dark arts and a girl in black and blood red attire lying on the floor; dead. I heard a blood-curling scream, I think it was mine; and I knew no more.
By:Candace Maria
Feel Free to email me:Wildfire24589@cs.com
