The Old Grey House
I was lost, cold and very frightened. The thunder cracked and roared and filled my ears and electric blue lightning lit up the bleak sky.
Then an old grey house loomed through the darkness, mist swirling around its doors and its dirty cracked windows. I had no option but to seek shelter from the storm.
Nervously I rang the rusty bell and heard it echo through the room, but no one answered. I called, “Hello, is anyone there?” but no one answered. Only an owl far away hooted twice in reply and then stopped.
Picking up courage I pushed open the door and tiptoed into the house, which had no furniture, just a photo of an old woman smiling mysteriously. I sat down on the cold, carpetless floor and huddled with my knees near my chest for warmth.
Without warning, the hair on my neck prickled and an uncontrollable shiver shook my body. I felt as though there was someone else in the room, though I could hear no one and see no one. I looked at the photo on the wall and the eyes looked back at me, cold grey eyes that held no kindness. I knew I could not stay in this house any longer. It spelt danger. I ran across the room and out of the house, away from the danger and into the storm.
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