Monies

Copper Cent Coins

Jasper loved money. There was something comforting and reassuring about the feel of coins in his hands. He liked the weight and the coldness which quickly became warm. The sounds the coins made as they clinked together or on to things was music to his ears.

He marvelled at all the different designs there were on the backs of coins from all over the world. He enjoyed watching the British Queen’s face changing through the years, the USA Presidents switching around and special editions for events like the Olympics.

Coins was not were it ended though, Jasper also enjoyed paper notes. He liked the rustle sounds of them, the feel between his fingers and the oily printing smell of them. He hung on to notes that were crisp from the machines, not parting with them till he had no choice.

Jasper’s collection was huge and though it took over his house, he wouldn’t give it up for the world. He had perfectly fitted cabinets and drawers made to protect and store the money. The most valuable coins and notes lived in numerous safes hidden in the walls, floors and ceilings.

Even his job in involved money handling! Jasper would hurry to the bank five times a week and carry out his role as a finical accountant manger. He loved watching money roll in and out of accounts and the stock market changing. Sometimes he would go into the vault and look at what was on display down there.

However, he loved home time when he could return to his collections and study his coins in greater detail.

 

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For Art

Scrapyard, Recycling, Dump, Garbage, Metal, Scrap Yard

Matt liked going to the scrap yard because he never knew what he was going to find. Parking his car in the carefully reserved spaces just outside the tall electrical wired topped gates, he got out and went in. A small box booth painted bright red to stand out against everything else sat just inside the fence, with a huge man balled up inside. Matt waved to him and clocked the scrap yard owner’s wave back before wandering in.

Towers of scrap and waste rose up around Matt like small mountains. Someone was trying hard to keep control of the towers being structured out of the same items, but it was an almost impossible task. The metal piles held abandoned cars, some looking crushed others just looking dumped where sticking out alongside white kitchen appliances which also mingled with other metal objects.

The smell was bad and Matt slipped on his cloth mask and gloves as he walked. The air was heavy with old oil, rusting metal, household waste and other rotting things. Following large paths that had been marked out of the cranes and other monster machines to follow, he approached a few of the piles and looked at the stuff on offer.

His mind rushed over all the things he could create and soon he had gathered a list of items. Finding a worker, which took a very long time, he got the young man to gather what he had picked it out and cart it back to the booth for the total and payment. He then got help arranging deliver and sent of home again.

Matt knew he always took too much home. Thinking about as he drove, he felt he couldn’t help it. Somehow, people’s unwanted items took on new forms under his hands and found so much joy in it. What had once been his hobby was now his way of life. A way of life selling recycled art.

Colored Fox

Opening the colouring book to the first page, she studied the drawing. It was a fox appearing through a garden of flowers. Selecting her pens, she enjoyed listening to the scratch scratch sound across the paper. Her stress started melting way as colour brought the scene to life.

(Image from; http://batsford.com/blog/tag/millie-marotta/)

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The Swimmers

The early morning swim was getting underway. Dan, stepping from the changing room, looked out across the swimming pool. There were only two men in and they were both in the slow lane. He didn’t think he’d seen the men here before. They both, he noticed, looked alike with their going grey hair and blue trunks. Across from them, Dan spotted two life guards – a man and a woman- both wearing red t-shirts and in deep conversation.

Dan walked to the ladder and began climbing in. He braced himself for the chill of the water, but it wasn’t enough and as his feet broke the surface, he shivered. Getting the rest of the way in, he took deep breaths and jumped up and down. Water splashed against his shoulders and face, making the chill deeper.

He ducked under briefly, rose and shook the water from his hair. He brushed it back and set off on his first lap. Ignoring the cold water, he lazy swam to the other end of the pool. When got there, he turned and saw the two men crossing over into the middle lane. Dan swam back, faster this time, feeling fully awake. He reached the end in half the time and paused to catch his breath.

Soft giggles caused his head to turn. He saw Nat and two old women walking out of the female changing room. Dan let his feet rest on the floor and watched Nat walked over. She had lost some of her weight in the four years they had been together, but had still kept the soft curving figure he had grown to love. He smiled at her and she smiled back, before turning around and stepping down the ladder.

Even though it was difficult for him to take his eyes off her, Dan glanced up as the male lifeguard walked over to the two old women and began talking to them. The waves of water made him turn back to Nat as she small stepped over to him.

‘It’s cold today!’

‘Yeah, it really is,’ Dan agreed.

‘You’d think they’d at least put a heater on, what with the weather outside and everything!’

Dan nodded, ‘once you get swimming you’ll be fine. Come on I’ll do your first length with you.’

Nat smiled her thanks and after a few moments, they set off together. The water rushed and swirled around them, almost caressing the couple as they swam side by side. Dan reached the other end before Nat did and quickly turned around.

‘See? It’s not so bad,’ he called out.

‘It’s bloody freezing!’ she responded as she reached for the pool’s edge.

Dan laughed then nodded towards the two old women who’d just got in and were warming up. ‘What were you talking to them about?’

‘Us,’ Nat replied simply.

‘And?’

‘Getting married. They weren’t going to let it drop. They’re like two chatty school girls!’

Dan shook his head as Nat broke into laughter.

‘Come on,’ she added and splashing him, set off again.

With a little growl, Dan chased after her. He caught her leg and heard Nat give a little squeal. Letting go, he swam passed her, being sure only to splash her a little. He raced her and reached the other side far in front of her. He turned, saw she was only half way and felt victory warming him. He shot a look at the two old ladies and they grumpily looked back at him.

‘Go in the fast lane, please,’ one of them said.

Dan nodded, tasting his victory going sour. He watched them set off. The water finding it’s way into the folds of their wrinkled skin and clinging on. He breathed out a sigh then felt Nat’s hand on his shoulder.

‘I’m fine now, go on,’ she said.

Dan bent his head for a quick kiss. Her lips tasted of the water, but he ignored that and embraced the softness of the kiss. He didn’t want it to end, but he felt Nat putting a hand on his chest and gently pushing him away.

‘Catch you after a few lengths?’ she asked as their lips separated.

‘Sure. Have fun,’ he replied then ducked the lane rope.

Nat watched him go, keeping her giggle to herself. They smiled at each other once more, then Dan swam away. Nat trailed after him, unable to stop smiling and even though the swimming pool water still felt cold, it couldn’t chill her warm glow.

The Swim Date

Dan still couldn’t believe he was doing this. He was sitting in the leisure centre’s small café, his hands almost touching the paper cup of coffee before him. Opposite sat the massive woman, or Nat. She too had coffee, but her hands were in her lap. Dan smiled at her and wondered where to take to the conversation too. He watched Nat fix her hair again.

‘Bit of an odd place to have a first date,’ Dan said.

‘It works for us though,’ Nat replied, ‘did you go swimming this morning?

‘No, I went to the gym. You?’

‘I slept in. Guess I was nervous about this.’

Dan nodded, he could relate to that.

‘So do you have a job?’ Nat asked.

‘I’m just a company monkey,’ he replied, ‘It’s a loans company and I just work in the office, making reports for the bosses. It’s dull. What about you?’

‘I’m a child minder and I work part time at a nursery.’

‘Never been my area, kids. All my friends seem to have ‘em, but its’ not really for me.’

‘I can’t have them,’ Nat burst out.

‘Oh, I’m sorry.’

‘It’s okay.’

Dan paused, letting the subject drop before he spoke again, ‘so what do you like doing?’

‘Many things,’ Nat replied, ‘I like arts and crafts, movies, music, books. What about you?’

‘Similar. I like sports and my car.’

Nat giggled.

Dan took a sip of his coffee and felt his tongue burning. This is bad, why did I agree to this?

Nat smoothed out a white t-shirt with butterflies and rested her arms on the top. She could feel this whole thing slipping apart. Well, she’d not really expected him to say yes, so… taking in a deep breath and letting it out, she thought about what else to say.

‘Do you have a car?’ Dan asked.

Nat shook her head, ‘I can drive though and I’m saving up for one. Do you have your own house?’

‘It’s a two bedroom apartment with a nice view over the city. What about you?’ Dan asked and braced himself for her reply.

‘I have a house.’

‘Oh?’

Dan’s mind suddenly began spinning with questions and possible answers.

‘I inherited it from my parents when they moved to Spain. I pay them rent,’ she added.

‘Cool. You live there alone?’

‘Yeah, but only for the last few months. My best friend moved out and went to live with her boyfriend in Rochdale. Before that there was my ex-fiancé…things really didn’t work out with him,’ Nat added.

Dan raised his eyebrows and looked puzzled at her. He took another sip of his coffee and waited for her to go on.

Nat sighed, ‘everything was perfect. But then he had a break down and went completely off the walls. He called it off and moved out. I’ve not seen or spoken to him in five years. I still have no idea what really happened. Guess I’ll never know.’

‘Sounds like a jerk,’ Dan mumbled.

Nat pursed her lips and stayed silent.

‘You know what? I’d like to meet you again. Maybe we should go out for a proper drink next time though?’

Nat smiled and nodded, ‘Sounds a good idea to me!’

The Swimmer

As Dan swam another length of the swimming pool his mind began to empty. It was too early for much cohering thinking and his body was running on auto. The splashing and movement of water had become a backdrop as well as the other people that surround him. For a fleeting moment, he prayed to have a pool all to himself then he shut his eyes and swam on.

Completing another lap, Dan grabbed the cool lip of the pool’s edge and let his feet rest on the bottom. He scrubbed his fading tan face and pushed back his short black hair. Bobbing in the lapping water, he watched a massive woman stepping down the ladder. He give thanks that she was in a covering swimming costume that safely hide much of her bum and belly.

He watched her get in and some of the water escaping out as she did so. Her boobs were so huge his eyes couldn’t help but be guided towards them. She turned and smiled at him. He quickly, smiled back then twisted away. Had she seen him staring? He couldn’t tell. He looked across slyly and saw her start swimming away using the frog technique.

He grinned and leaving her be, looked around at the other swimmers whilst he caught his breath back. The only other person in his lane was a very attractive young woman. Her blonde hair was tied back and she had on a sports swimming suit. Dan admired her, but had overheard that she was married.

In the fast lane to his left, two old timers were racing it out. Perhaps they had both been swimming champions and now, still addicted, they came every other morning to battle it out. The problem was, Dan always noted, that they looked like shrivelled up conkers in the water. With that image in mind, he couldn’t take them seriously.

In the slow line to his right alongside the massive woman, were a withered granny, a fat twenty-something man and a middle-aged woman. Dan watched them all swimming in the large oval shape that the pool signs demanded. He tried to switch his mind off again, but now it was too wake and couldn’t help but think dirty thoughts.

Shoving them away, he took a deep breath and got swimming again. As the water raged around him, he thought about the presentation he was giving at the boss’s meeting today. Had he made it interesting enough? It was bursting with facts that was for sure! He swam another few lengths then did a last slower one.

Ducking under the lane rope, he headed for the ladder when a shy female voice called to him.

Dan turned expecting to see the sporty woman or the middle-aged one, since the voice was clear not old. Instead, though the massive woman was standing behind him.

‘Yes?’ he asked politely.

‘I was just wondering if you’d like to have a drink with me sometime,’ she said softly.

Dan had to lean into catch half of the words as she seemed so quiet, ‘Well….Erm…’

‘Not today of course,’ she spluttered and looked at the water.

Dan saw her cheeks blushing. He shot a look at her heavy chest, ‘Sure. Why not.’

‘Thanks. See you soon,’ she rushed and went back to swimming.

Shaking his head, Dan got out of the pool and went to get dressed. Was he crazy? Maybe…

Slender Part 3

slenderman

I hit the gas, threw the car into reverse and shot off down the dirt track. At the end, I spun the small car around and roared back onto the side road. Nervously, I stared into all my mirrors then out of the side window. I could see nothing but the road ahead and behind me, at the sides old pine trees clawing at a darkening sky blocked my view. The house was nowhere to be seen. Fighting down the panic and clutching the steering wheel as if I had just fallen off a cliff, I sped away.

Taking in deep breaths and trying to concentrate on the road, I started up the radio and found the connection to my IPod. Snatching up the IPod, I skipped through the new music I had download for my trip to America. I had an odd mix of heavy metal and classic rock, though nothing at the minute would soothe me.

No one was going to believe me. I should have taken a photo of that thing in the window. I shook my head and told myself there had been nothing there and it was only matrixing. I had seen it tons of times in photos of ‘ghosts’ on the internet. People claiming to see a face or figure in a carpet, wall or mirror when it was only a reflection of light creating shapes. That’s all it had been.

Looking down at my IPod screen, I scanned through some more music and finally decided on Barenaked Ladies. As I went to put it on, one of my front tyres bounced over a large rock and I scrambled to gain control as my car went into a spin. I floored the brake and yanked up the hand one as tall tree trunks filled my vision. Branches whipped past me, scratching against the car and shooting out of view. Somehow, I avoid the line of trees and the car came to a spluttering stop facing into the forest.

I let go of the handbrake and the steering wheel. Pins and needles pricked my hands and arms. I opened the door and got out. Breathing deeply, I took in the scent of pine trees, dirt, burnt rubber and warm oil. I looked around and saw the road half a mile behind me. Shaking, I leant over and put my hands on my knees. How had I not hit a tree? Thanking God or whoever as I wasn’t religious and didn’t believe in ‘higher powers,’ I sorted myself.

Getting back in the car, I left the door open and tried starting up the engine. It turned over, but didn’t fully start. I took the key out and lent back in the seat, the shock sinking in. I shut my eyes and listened to the crows screaming around me. Dark patterns danced before me and head ached.

‘Don’t sleep!’ I shouted, snapping open my eyes and jumping up.

I moved to get out and something flickered passed me. I stopped, put my hands on the wheel and lent over to look out. It was probably just a bird or something. Still, I held my breath and waited. A tentacle like shape appeared out the forest gloom and wrapped itself around the trunk of a tree. I dived for my camera, switched it on and began snapping photos.

The images came back blurry, so I got out the car and did two full circles shoots, before collapsing back into the driver’s seat and locking the door closed. It’s crazy, I’m crazy! I shoved the camera down and tried my car again. This time the engine roared into life and slowly, I reversed back on to the road. Shaking, I turned the car around and carried on driving down the road. The radio sorted itself and music drifted from the speakers.

By the time I got into the small town I was staying in, it had begun to rain and the sky was inky black. I parked up outside my motel room, grabbed my stuff and hurried into the room. I hit the harsh lights, dumped the stuff on the bed and stripped to my boxers. I went into the bathroom and showered. When I got out, holding a towel around my hips and water dripping off my hair, the realisation of the situation hit me.

I sink onto the bed and laughed. In the safety of the room, I felt so stupid. I turned on the TV, just to have some noise in the too quiet background and picked up my camera. The battery was low, so I put it on charge and took the memory card out. I turned on my laptop and left the memory card on the mouse pad as I put on a soft pair of pants. I towel dried my hair, then as the laptop loaded, put the memory card in and opened the files.

Putting them on full screen, I tapped through the photos and looked closely into the backgrounds. There was nothing in the first handful and a small voice in my head started up that I was being silly and trying to find something that wasn’t going to be there. However, in the first photo of the hallway there seemed to be a blotch of pure blackness in the centre. Frowning, I went through the next few and found the last one in the hall. Clearly, before my eyes was a long stickman shadow. The breath caught in my throat and my inner voice screamed, matrixing! I zoomed in, my fingers twitching, but there was no deigning the image before me. I clicked off it and cycled through the other photos, until I reached the attic room.

The hairs rose on the back of my neck and I broke into a cold sweat. The child drawn pictures on the walls burned before my eyes and the words I’d not given any focus on before popped out at me.

DON’T LOOK AT HIM

DON’T FOLLOW

HE COMES

AFRAID

DEATH

I shook my head and went through the next lot which were all in the forest. The first few were confusing blurs of trees and shadowy patches and the rest showed only old pine trees, tracks my car had made and the edges of the road. I saved all the photos and removed the memory card. Putting that back in my camera, I took out my external hard drive and saved the photos on to there as well. Closing my laptop, I went back to the bed and sat down. The box Brownie rolled into my hip.

Picking it up, I wondered if there was anything on it and how to get it off. I placed it next to my camera then cleaned the bed of my rucksack and other stuff. I sprawled out on the starched sheets and shut my eyes.

‘It’s not real. Just light tricks,’ I muttered, ‘There was nothing there. Just a creepy abandoned house. The photos? Tricks of shadows and lights. My mind making shapes. Nothing more…nothing…’

My alarm cut through my dreamless sleep and I woke with a start. Shaking sleep out of my limbs, I got up and straight in the shower. The hot water helped me wake further and after dressing, I ate some breakfast fruit bars and finished off a carton of milk. I emptied and repacked my rucksack, grabbed my camera and the box Brownie and opened the door.

A gloomy, wet morning greeted me. Stepping out and rubbing at a tension headache, I went to my car. Unlocking it, I got in, put my stuff to the side and closed the door. Yesterday’s memories that I had been trying to keep back like vomit, surfaced and I pressed my head to the steering wheel. I mumbled that it wasn’t real then started the car.

I drove into the town and focused on something else. At some point, I had seen a one hour photo and camera store. The problem was I couldn’t remember where it was. With my head feeling foggy, I parked in a superstore lot and got out. Gathering my stuff, I walked in and asked for directions. It was right around the corner. Leaving my car, I walked over and found myself outside a very old and run down looking store.

The sign on the door welcomed me in and I went straight to the counter. An old man with puffy white hair, large glasses and wrinkled hands stared at me. I placed the Brownie on the glass top next to an antique looking till.

‘I…erm…brought this at a junk store. I think there might be something on the film inside. Can you develop it for me?’ I asked.

A gnarled hand reached out and picked up the Brownie. The old man looked at it, rising his glasses up and down. He smacked his cracked lips and in an thick American accent I was becoming use to, said, ‘Shouldn’t be a problem. Come back in an hour.’

Nodding, I left not bothering to look around. I felt better outside and wondered back to the superstore to get some supplies. However, my mind was districted by questions; mainly, what images were on the Brownie? I went back well before the hour was up. The old man wasn’t at the counter, so I had a look around. The two walls were lined with thin wooden shelves that had a range of cameras, equipment, other supplies, magazines and books upon them.

I had just found a box Brownie that looked like mine, when he appeared.

‘Ah, I’ve managed to do it. The film was pretty old, but some of the photos came out OK…I fixed the camera too and put in a new roll. Seems to be OK…’

I hurried over and took the pile of black and white prints from him. The first three were too blurry to make out and they looked almost water stained. The fourth one though showed the abandoned house as it used to be with the Ford parked out front. I looked at the tiny attic window, but couldn’t make everything out. Something was there in the next one though; the outline of what looked like someone wearing a pillowcase on their head. My breath struck in my throat and had to turn to the next one. This time the mud room door was open and there was the shadow of the stickman standing there.

The old man cleared his throat and tearing my eyes away, I looked up at him.

‘Sorry, how much do I owe?’ I forced out.

He named his price, I handed him the money then looked at the other six photos. They worked in succession; the dirt track with the house in the background and the stickman just visible in the trees before the house. The next three were deeper in the woods and trying to hide in the background was the stickman. No matter how hard I stared, I couldn’t make out any features other than a round white head, long body and limbs.

I turned to the second to last one and saw the attic. The door was half open and the long figure was standing there as clear as anything. He was wearing a black suit, dark shirt and tie, his face was completely whited out. His arm reached down and out of shot. I scrambled for the last one and others fluttered to the floor. He was in full view this time, taking up all the space on the photograph.

My hands shook, I gasped for breath and dropped it alongside the others. I looked at the old man and saw the fear on his face. I wanted to say something, but my mind was scrambled. My eyes dropped to the scattered photos. It wasn’t possible! It was just a joke! A Halloween costume or someone messing around.

‘Ya need to leave now,’ the old man muttered.

‘No,’ I shouted and reaching across the counter grab the old man by his shirt, ‘tell me it’s not true! It’s a joke, a trick! It’s not real!’

He pressed his hands to mine and surprisingly shoved me off. Gasping, I swept up the photos and the Brownie. Clutching them to my chest, I stepped backwards and fled the store. I ran back to my car, threw everything in and peeled out of there. Like a mad man, I drove back into the forest and to the abandoned house.

‘It’s not real! It’s not real!’ I screamed.

I shot passed the very missable dirt track and had to spin the car around. I tumbled along the track, my whole body shaking and not just because of the vibrations. I skidded the car to a halt next to the house and snatching everything up stormed inside. Ignoring the darkness, I made my way to the attic. Kicking open the door, I stomped in and dumped everything on a small table against the window.

‘Where are you? Come out! You’re not real!’ I yelled.

I scanned the room, deep breaths bursting out of me and saw nothing but drifting dust clouds. Fat tears blurred my vision and I rubbed them away. I kicked a soft toy dog over and it thump across the floor.

‘It’s all fake!’ I added and took up the box Brownie.

I snapped some photos with it focusing on the open door and the walls. Then I took my digital camera and did the same. I looked closely at the screen after every photo, but saw nothing. I screamed and heard the echo of sirens in my ears. I hurried to the dirty window and looked out, two county sheriff cars were pulling up and blocking my car in. I collected my things and rushed outside.

I erupted through the mud room door, slightly tripping over my feet and would have flown at the three officers if I hadn’t seen their drawn guns.

‘Show your hands and get down!’ the oldest of them yelled.

Fear flashed through me and through I was still panicked, I put my stuff on the floor and dropped down after it onto the porch. The tears I had been fighting back overwhelmed me and I sobbed hard. Dimly, I was aware of the officers talking as they came over to me. I felt cuffs going around my wrists then I was dragged to my feet and patted down. I saw the younger female officer bagging my stuff up. I tried to tell her to be careful, but it just came out as blubber.

I was walked to the car and pushed into the back seat. I dropped on to my side then eased myself up and looked at the window. The sheriff and his deputies had moved away and I could see the pine trees retreating deeper into the forest. I drew in a shaky breath, shook my head to clear away the tears and really looked amongst the trees.

He was there, staring back at me.

To be Continued…?

Slender Part 2

Grey light filtered into what had once been a kitchen. My torch light bounced off half opened floor and wall cupboards. I shuffled in, tucked my torch between my legs and took a few photos. Looking around further, I noticed the gaps were a stove and sink would have been. With a quick search of the cupboards, I found them all empty and nothing else in the room give me any clues of personal items or dates.

Another door, opposite the one I had come in by, filled the fourth wall. I walked over, unable to stop my feet making soft slapping sounds on the rotting plastic tiled floor. I opened the door, my mind racing images of what could be on the other side. Luckily, there was nothing but a long empty hallway, with doors placed up one side and a wide staircase along the other.

I shone my torch around and noticed the abrupt silence surrounding me. I raised my camera, took a few photos and had a brief look through them. The last one caused me to pause. There seemed to a long dark shadow standing at the end of the hall. I brought my torch up and aimed the beam down towards the front door. Nothing caught the light. I took another photo and checked it, but the shadow wasn’t there.

A spike of fear electrified my skin and I struggled to hold my ground. I swallowed, wet my lips and croaked out an ‘Hello?’ The house swallowed my words and didn’t reply. I tried again, getting my throat and lips more wet, projecting my voice so I was almost shouting out the word. This time a small echo came back to me.

Shaking myself, I took another few photos and saw that there was nothing odd about them. I tried the handle of the first door to my right. It gave easily and the door opened. The room was empty and once again grey light was coming in from a dirty window. I took a photo of that and some more of the bare wooden floor, wallpaper peeling walls and cracked ceiling. I laughed to myself and wondered why I had gotten so scared of what had to be just a trick of light.

I walked through the other three rooms and found them almost all the same as the wallpaper and ceiling colours differed. I fell back to enjoying the experience and walking were no one else had been for many years. I took my last photo of the last room and got the open door and beginnings of the staircase in the shot. I noticed a shadow like arm just visible at the left side of the open door. My heart skipped, I stopped breathing and looked nervously upwards.

The darkness beyond the door looked like sticky molasses. I couldn’t see out of it, let alone pick out any shapes. Slowly, I put my torch on the floor, with the light beam angled out of the door and along the bottom of the staircase. I fixed the shot with my camera and pressed down the button. Flash and the image appeared on the screen. There were no shadow arms only the eerie effect of the torch’s beam along the floor.

Laughing loudly, I let the fear out. It’s nothing, nothing, I sing in my head. How many abandoned places had I been in alone? Thirty? Fifty? How many farm houses like this one? Twelve? And in all my ten years of exploring these places what had I found? Dead animals, homeless people, abandoned personal items and unsolved mysteries. Never ghosts. I had never seen, heard or captured anything that could be classed as a ghost. Nor had any companion that had come with me to the other places.

‘So why would you be in this place?’ I spoke out before bursting into another rolling laugh.

I felt better and walked into the hallway. I grab a few more photos of the locked front door and the staircase before heading up. The steps squeaked, but held my weight as I went up. The bedrooms were all like the rooms downstairs and I felt a slight disappointment that the whole place had been cleaned out. Coming out of the last room, I spotted the door to the attic that I’d missed.

Smiling, I hurried over. People always leave things behind in attics and basements. I opened the door and walked up a narrow staircase, which ended in another door. Avoiding the mass of spiders’ webs, I stepped in and slowly shone my torch around. A shiver ran through me as I took in the scene before me. It had been a children’s playroom and everything had been left behind. Toys, covered in dust were scattered across the floor as well as books and over full boxes of other toys.

With my hands slight shaking, I took a few photos that captured everything. Looking at the last one, I noticed the children’s drawings on the wall. In coal pencil was the figure of a long stickman. Frowning, I looked up and focused on the walls. All three of them were covered in the black pencil and paint drawings of that stickman. In some case there were bare pine trees around him, a house in the background and a scrawling of words.

My hairs stood on end and a voice screamed loudly in my head to leave. Hurriedly, I took a circle of photos just of the walls, trying to miss anything out then fled. My slamming footsteps and gasping breath ring in my ears, sweat ran down me like heavy drops of rain. I stumbled out of the back door, almost falling onto the porch but finding balance enough to rush into the grass and past the rusted car. My feet collided with something and I tumbled over. Fighting for breath, I looked down and saw the box brownie camera.

Snatching it up, I ran for my car. I scrambled for my keys, jabbed the right one into the car door and yanked it open. Flinging myself into the driving seat, the brownie slipped from my hand and fell into the passenger’s footwell. Ripping my own camera from my neck, I placed it down there too and started the car up.

The engine spring to life, I wrestled to put my seat belt on and then without really meaning too, I looked up at the house and the attic room window.  A stick shadow figure was pressed against the glass looking out at me.

To Be Continued…

Slender Part 1

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Pulling up outside the abandoned house, I turned off my engine and got my first proper look. The house was old, typical wooden board American farm house, but looked still intact. I grabbed my camera and keys before I slipped out of the car. Closing and locking the car, I put my keys into my jeans pocket and slipped my camera strap around my neck. Tucking my longish hair out from underneath, I felt the slight chill of summer’s last day. I zipped up my heavy cotton jacket and double checked I had everything.

I turned on my camera and started exploring. The nature was thick around the house with the grass growing up to the windows and dead black trees trying to block it from view. I walked around the house, snapping photos and stealing quick glancing to make sure they looked right. I reached the back area and spotted a rust car almost buried by the grass. My breath caught in my throat and I hurried over.

The car was nothing fancy, just a standard Ford from the forties. I took a few photos, admiring the rust and strangely imagining that when the car had been parked up for the last time it hadn’t realised it had just had its last run. I stepped backwards with the long grass whipping around me and my foot hit something.

Freezing, I took a great photo of the car, tree and abandoned house. Then I looked down and saw a leather box. Juggling my stuff, I picked it up and discovered it to be a box brownie camera. Smiling and laughing, I turned it over a few times and looked closely at it. Surprisingly, it seemed to be in good shape. I went to put it down again, the Urban Explorer’s code sounding off in my head. It touched the grass and my fingers wouldn’t let it go. Frowning, I placed it on the floor then let go, but I couldn’t do it. I knelt down and pulled my hand off it. Standing up, I quickly walked away and on to the porch of the house. Turning, I looked back and oddly felt the brownie calling to me, even though I could no longer see it in the grass.

Shaking my head, I twisted back and pushed open the worn wooden door. A loud creaking, that sounded like the house screaming, signalled my entrance. Peering inside, it was pitch black. I switched my flash on and took a photo. Blinking away the sudden blindness, I looked at the camera screen and saw nothing but two wooden walls and a doorway leading out of the small mud room.

I dug my torch out and clicked it on. Hoping that there was some natural light in the other rooms, I gingerly stepped on the floor. The boards creaked, but held my weight. I took a few more steps then walked firmly across towards the door. I grabbed the door knob and twisted it open in a single movement.

To Be Continued…

Weaving Hearts

She liked the photos on the internet,

So she went and found a pattern

Then she began making them and couldn’t stop.

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If you want to make these you can find them here : http://craftsanity.com/2011/02/craftsanity-on-tv-woven-felt-heart-basket-tutorial/