Board Thread:Writer's Workshop/@comment-36300157-20190219121536

here it is.

When I was younger, I used to live in a small neighbourhood. The local youngsters and I were friends; we kicked on rocks and played all sorts of games. I remembered Tom, the kid who excelled in playing soccer. I remembered Sam, a buddy of mine, who always teamed up with me when playing sports. Mary always stood in the crowd's middle, telling jokes. I would never forget her, her personality, her sense of humor, and her vast collection of hilarious stories. Her mother was an elderly woman, kind and nice; I never got to see Mary’s father anyhow. She brought us freshly baked cookies and gave us money to buy candies. However, she forced her daughter to stay indoors after 5 pm. We never knew why.

On that day, our usual crowd of kids stuck together in the playground, and it was indeed nice. I had won a few matches of the rock throwing game, and Mary was here, being like her, telling jokes and always smiling.

As usual, her mother forced her to return at 4 pm. We were very much dissatisfied; she was in the middle of her hilarious stories. Therefore, I made one of the worst decisions in my life.

I quietly followed her, sneaking into Mary’s home, a large mansion. It was like a rundown motel; the wooden floors were creaking, the rooftop was leaking water, and even the doorknobs seemed to be jammed.

“Woah there…” I called out quietly. I wandered in their large mansion, as I crept through a series of long hallways, lined with guest cabins and dining rooms. Before long, I managed to locate Mary and her mother.

Mary climbed on a ladder and lowered herself to a seemingly underground cellar, while her mother shut the crate over the small hole, even securing it with chains and locks.

I waited till her mother left. When she had gone, I crept to the hidden door and knocked on it.

‘Mary! It is me, John! I am here to spring you!’ I whispered.

‘What are you doing here?’ Mary replied. ‘Don’t… don’t open the lock.’

‘Why?’

‘It’s critical you listen…’

The clock suddenly rang as it was five. I was taken aback from the sudden noise before we continued talking.

‘Let me out.’ Mary said.

I groaned. ‘Didn’t you tell me not to…’

She interrupted me, banging on the other side of the trapdoor.

‘Obey my orders. Do it.’

‘Alright then.’ I did what I should be doing. I used my trusty crowbar to hack through the crate, and it only took me half a minute to break it apart.

‘Here, take my hand.’ I stretched out my hand. I expected to pull her out and spring her from the cellar, but things never went ‘expected’ from now on.

All I could see was a pair of cold, glaring eyes, before an unimaginably great force dragged me down the cellar. I saw a gleaming light, reflected from a silvery knife with bloodstains on it.

I felt my foot was stepping on something, something squishy, slicking on my shoes. I was sure what that was, and I did not dare to look beneath me.

I crawled back to the surface, back to the hallway. I tried to close the cellar, by snapping the wooden staircase in halves, by closing the wooden crate. It never worked; an unseen force pushed me away, like a gale, knocking me on a wall like a ragdoll.

I turned tail and ran. I heard a cackle, and when my eyes blinked again, I could only see the hallway stretching as I sped, the winding path leading on indefinitely. The windows were all boarded up, coated up with barbed wires.

I knew better than looking back.

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Any criticism would be nice, I dont know if I should continue this. Thx man 