Short story about my house

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short story about my house

The Number of the House is 13: A Short Ghost Story by T.R. Sutherland

On almost every street there is that one house with its story and secrets that everyone avoids. On this street the house was number 13.

For two adventurous cousins, the reputation this house has acquired is based on rumor, and theyre determined to find out if there is any truth in it. They decide to explore the house to see for themselves what all the fuss is about. As soon as they approach the house, they become aware of a menacing presence. Their plan was to spend the entire night in the house, but with each passing moment the house slowly comes alive as a cold terror creeps in.

Will they make it through the night?
File Name: short story about my house.zip
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Published 27.12.2018

RAPUNZEL English Kids Story Animation - Fairy Tales and Bedtime Stories - Full Story

“The Room” — A Short Story

The room remained locked for so many years that most people who visited the house forgot it was even there. Sometimes, she thought she could still hear screams coming from inside the room. Those were the times she felt most guilty. But then Terry, a shell of the man who used to be her strong and passionate husband, would stop her and remind her there was no hope. Diana looked at her mom, so vibrant and full of life. Without a word to either of them, Terry walked upstairs.

English for Students. Were you scared? Share your feelings with your friend, if you have been in such a situation. Tell your friend what you would do if you were to stay alone in a house for the whole night. It was raining heavily.

A single, flickering flame in a room on the first floor. Like a candle burning. Daphne wondered who lived there and resolved to ask her host, Teddy, if it belonged to the Hall. She stood with her hands on the cold stone windowsill of her bedroom in Dean Hall. In the fading October light, spread out below her lay the fields, furrowed and brown, the glint of white chalk in the soil glistening in the moonlight like fragments of bone. She shivered, feeling the chill dusk creep over her skin, and withdrew back into her room. She pulled at the window, stiff in its mullioned hinges, and rattled the metal catch until it was properly closed.

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Add to Read List. Later on in live, I wish to buy a house with enough rooms. Rooms enough so that I could decorate each one completely different. A bedroom that reflects the things I love, with a romantic touch. A bathroom representing calmness with white clean walls and a victorian bath underneath the window.

I had a good childhood for the most part. I grew up in a neighborhood that had plenty of kids my age to play with. There was a lake with a rope swing for hot summer days. Growing up in Florida a shady cool lake was a welcome reprieve. My grandma even lived next door…. My grandma even lived next door to us and it was nice having her close by.

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