My hands were shaking, my body was stiff, everything was quiet. It had been 13
days since the last ghost attack, I have been hiding in the basement of my house
for that long, food is running out, the tap water is full of dust and ants. I need to
escape, but the fear in my head is somehow stopping me. Again, the sound of
whispering and ﬂoorboards creaking made me feel nervous, the ghost is here, the
ghost of William Morgana, founder of Morgana creek.
The ghost was deﬁnitely in my house, I could hear it whispering the same words
over and over, like a broken record. “Lucy!” I hid inside my closet, through the
closed doors I could hear it whispering, the whispering was enough for me, but the
door handle turning was a huge worry. “Lucy!” I closed my eyes tightly, the door
opened, I heard it ﬂoating across the wooden ﬂoor, oh no, I heard the sound of a
match scraping, then I heard the ghost leave, it smelt weird, like smoke, it was
warm. I leaped out of my closet, landing in front of ﬁre, holy guacamole!
The ﬁre spread, all over the wooden ﬂoor, I thought quickly, I ﬁlled a cup of water
and spilt it over the ﬁre, but I missed, I took the ﬁre blanket from the cabinet and
covered the roaring ﬂames. Finally the ﬁre was gone, but when I uncovered the
burnt wood, it shined red, like a blood stain.
When I thought the fright was over, I sat down and ate and I got ready to sleep, I
had just laid down when my door opened, no one was there, must’ve been the
wind, I closed it and laid down again, my door opened and my lamp ﬂickered, my
mirror shined red, everything shined red, I screamed and everything went normal
again, my door shut loudly, and my lamp turned off, automatically. The Morgana
ghost hadn’t left yet, I was ready to face the ghost. “Come out William!” I screamed
to my own house, my door opened once again and a little boy dressed in a torn
shirt and muddy trousers walked slowly into my room, he looked guilty, but innocent
at the same time, “Where’s my Mum?” The boy muttered to me, “Answer me!” The
boy faded into an old man with scratches everywhere, on his face, on his arms,
everywhere, then he vanished, without a word. Finally, I was safe, the boy ghost
had disappeared, hopefully.
I slept the night, having nightmares and screaming out to my Mum, who lived in
England. I woke up in a bed of sweat and tears, I was going to take a shower but I
was eager to pack my bags, no more basement life.
I received the key from my drawer to open the door to go upstairs, I opened the
door and walked upstairs and left the basement, for good. Goodbye to the Morgana
ghost, I hope so.