|"The Article" (standard:Suspense, 1244 words)|
|Author: amigood||Added: Jan 17 2007||Views/Reads: 2302/1136||Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)|
|A pair of journalists are battling their minds along with the possibilities of other things. Can one event change a person's view forever, or is everything just a mind trick?|
Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story “Mice,” I said. I continued to try to convince myself of that. “Let's just do this board thing and go back to the hotel.” Chris gave me an arrogant look as he sat at the opposite side of the table. Seeing the pleasure in his eyes I added, “It's freezing and this house sounds like it is about to fall to the ground.” “Ahem,” he replied smugly. For once giving up on a fight, I shook it off. “Now what do we do?” “Let me,” he said as he closed his eyes, “Are there any spirits in this room that would like to communicate with us?” I looked anxiously around the room, as my palms began to sweat and I was relieved to see that Chris had no notice of it or he choose not to say anything. “Mr. or Mrs. Kenner, are either of you here.” The light behind us began to flicker a little bit, and I then ignored my urge to pull my hands away. “I know you are there would you like to communicate with us? Can you spell?” The board began to move, it moved to the yes circle. “Chris, don't kid with me I know your moving this.” I said a bit panicked. “No, I'm not you know I wouldn't do anything like that to you, you know me better than that.” He said, with a deep breath he continued, “Who is this?” To my amazement the board moved again, I noticed the room getting even colder than before. It spelled out E-M-I-L-Y-L-A-Y-E-R. I flinched a little with that and asked, “Didn't you say her name was Kenner?” He shrugged and asked it, “Do you mean Emily Kenner?” It waited a minute and moved to “no.” You aren't the Emily who was married to Roy Kenner? To my dismay, the board moved once again, abolishing all of my theories of dreaming, to spell M-Y-H-U-B-A-N-D-K-I-L-L-E-D-M-E-I-A-M-N-O-L-O-N-G-E-R-A-K-E-N-N-E-R. “My husband killed me, I am no longer a Kenner; it is definitely Emma Kenner.” “Why don't you leave this place?” Chris asked. It moved again I-D-O-N-O-T-W-A-N-T-T-O-N-O-W-L-E-A-V-E-M-Y-H-O-M-E. Suddenly a huge bang came from downstairs then upstairs. The sound surrounded us then a voice as clear as day said, “Get out!” I looked at Chris and we ran. We sprinted down the stairs I highly doubt my feet even touched the stairs as I went down. I was wet with perspiration when I finally stopped running at the end of the drive. Chris and I both turned, that is when I realized the front door was already open. “Chris,” I said, “when we left, the door was open. Do you think someone was in the house doing everything?” “No,” he answered as he snapped a picture of the house, “Do you?” I hesitated for a moment and simply answered, “No.” When the pictures came out the only thing we found was a ball of light in the master bedroom. That night made a believer out of me. I am a very concrete person, and I have never been one to be scared of horror movies, ghost stories or haunted houses but now I have no doubt in my mind that there are ghosts out there like the ones in the Kenner house. So, I'll let you make the judgment, were there other people in the house messing with us? Was the house haunted? Or, was it simply the power of suggestion over my mind? I'll let you make the call. Tweet
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