Little Inklings 2024

I walk slowly up the front steps, taking great care to place my feet carefully along the uneven, rocky steps. I look up at the house, taking in the broken windows and dust growing everywhere, then immediately regret it as I trip on the moss and dirt that has overgrown onto the staircase. I wipe my legs off, wincing at the blood that transfers to my hands from my knees which are now scraped. I stand back up quickly, walking the last few steps before gently pushing the door open because it looks like it is about to fall off of its hinges. I enter the house, taking a few steps inside as the door slams shut behind me on its own accord, shaking the house and leaving the door squeaking pathetically. I can’t see anything, the pitch black engulfing me, and I scramble to pull out my phone’s flashlight only to find it dead. I move slowly a few feet forward, yelping as I run into something, before feeling around and pulling on a dangling string, and suddenly, I can see. I’ve turned on a small lamp, enough to light up most of the small room, but the lightbulb is dim and flickering wildly, providing little heat in the freezing cold room. I look around, realizing I had run into a small armchair, which is the only piece of furniture in the room other than a small table with a picture frame on it. I feel shivers inexplicably crawl up my spine and decide to move on and venture further into the house. I follow the bumpy floor, batting my hands at the cobwebs that enter my face andmymouth, cringing at the touch as I enter into the next room, as dark as the last, immediately making a face at the putrid stench that enters my nose, smelling of something horribly rotten. I’m just deciding to leave the eerie room to explore elsewhere when I nearly jump through the moldy roof at the sound of a terrifying, blood-curdling scream. I bolt back through the house, retracing my footsteps to the front door to leave, but as I try the old, rusty doorknob, it refuses to open. The screaming grows louder and louder, and I can hear footsteps creaking the wood floor behind me as I shake the doorknob desperately, but with no success. I’m panicking now, and I can feel the hot air of someone’s breath on my neck, so I turn around, my fists up, ready to fight, only to see….nothing. TONE By: Andrea Medina ’28 6