FREE model english essay
It was a dreary evening. The call of a lone owl pierced the silence of the night. The empty streets gleamed under the light of the full moon. Why was I on the streets at 10 pm? I had taken a stupid dare. My university friends had challenged me to visit a supposedly haunted house. They call it: 'The creepy house that nobody dares to step foot after dark'.
At 10 pm I was more afraid of people than ghosts. Despite the streets of my town being reputed for their safety, who knows what kind of people lurked outside at that time. I took the dare, partly to prove that I am not a 'pussy cat', and partly because of the generous amount of money my friends promised me. I did not believe in ghosts.
So there I was standing in the garden of the windowless house. In fact, I doubt that this could be called a garden anymore since most of the plants had died. A chill ran down my spine. The rumours were true, it was a creepy place. The house had been built with wood, which is quite unusual and the years of inoccupancy had left it in a delirect state. The unpleasant scent of mould floated in the air. Suddenly, rain started pouring down. I decided to get in. The door was open.
The house was pitch black inside, which was odd since it had no windows. I switched on the flashlight on my phone. I was plunged right into the middle of a horror movie. I saw the dusty antique furniture in the dim light and heard random creaking noises. I jumped in fear when I saw a rat swiftly crossing the floor. I felt something was wrong in this house. I would certainly not stay to visit. I promptly took a series of pictures with my smartphone, to prove that I had taken the dare. Suddenly I felt an odd tingling sensation on my leg. I had the inexplicable urge to run out of the house. I reached home drenched. I sent the pictures to my friends, after which I dozed off.
The next morning I woke up to the persistent ringing tone of my mobile phone. I picked. 'LOOK AT THE THIRD PICTURE, NOW' shouted my friend in excitement. I checked the picture and did not see anything on the spot. 'The mirror' said my friend in a darker tone. Then I saw something that turned my blood cold. In the cracked mirror was a wrinkled hand with long nails grabbing my lower leg. I knew deep in my heart that this was not my eyes playing tricks.
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