WEREHOUSE

"Tick Tock. Tick Tock. Tick Tock. The talking clock talked as Doctor Locke walked in his smock. No, no, no, that's stupid," I said, desperate to write the next project for Mr. McNamee's Creative Writing class. "Forewarn of forty fore lone Pauly Shore...I'm no good at writing poetry. I need some sort of inspiration. After realizing that I was talking to myself, I decided to search for solitude. If anyone caught me talking to myself, people would call me crazi...er. I headed toward some really creepy-looking mansion that I had never noticed before. I don't know why, I just wanted to. For the sake of developing the plot, I suppose. As I approached the heavily decorated door and cliché gargoyles, I was overcome with an eerie chill. It turned out that some idiot installed the air conditioner in backwards, and I was in front of the window. I entered the edifice and noticed an elaborate set of staircases and many...uh, things. I had just been racking my brain over the assignment and didn't feel like being very descriptive. I went through the place with the stuff and ended up in some room. Just as I was about to sit down, I had realized that I forgot my notebook. I headed out the door, but, somehow, the door was shut.
"Odd, I don't remember closing that door," I said aloud for some reason. "Oh, well. Maybe I just forgot." I opened the door again, but was shocked at what I saw. The hallway I originally walked through to get here was replaced by a small room with clothes floating in mid-air! I was scared to death, I didn't know what to do! I was more terrified when I looked outside and noticed a full moon. This must've been one of the "werehouses" that I had heard about. Like the haunted mattress factory werehouse. All I could do was stand perfectly still, hoping that it would end soon.
"Ohmygodohmygodohmygod," I frantically muttered, like a highly caffeinated valley girl. I thought the spook fest was over until I heard a voice.
"Hello, who's up there?" a voice from below shouted.
"Ohhh, (expletive)," I whispered in fear. "I bet it's some monster that wants to peel the skin off of me and use it as a tacky Halloween costume." I wasn't going to let them. So, I did the most sensible thing I could think of. I jumped out of the window. I fell down three stories, landed on three jagged rocks, and broke three ribs. At least my skin was still intact with my body.
I never go near that place anymore, but I still shudder whenever I hear the word "werehouse."


Final draft - 09-10-01
Kevin Magpoc
Any unauthorized duplication is
useless, and just plain sad.