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In The Old Barn
A Short Story for Jumpstart July — Day 8
Behind our old house lay a big, empty field. At the very end of the field lay a big old barn. It’s painted red, with a big wide wooden door to enter. The only problem was, I’ve never been there. I’ve always been too afraid. We moved in about six months ago, and since making friends with the locals in the area and the neighbours, they all warned us to stay away from it.
“A big, old death-trap.”
“No reason to go in there.”
“Not been used in years.”
They all had their reasons, their excuses. I didn’t believe a single one. I’ll tell you why. I was woken up in the middle of the night by an unearthly screech. Three times I heard it. The first time woke me up. The second had me out of bed and sprinting to the window. The third, well, the third had me gaping like a fool at the old barn across the field. The third screech seemed to come from there. I only know this because there was a dim light inside, which could be seen through the old window at the top of the barn, the one the locals say was never used. I knew what I had to do.
The next day, after a lot of tossing and turning and formulating a plan to skip school, I pretended to be sick. I knew the old tricks. I would hold my face over a bowl of steaming water so that the temperature rose, so when my…
