Authors Note: This is a short demented little irony I wrote for the district assessment, its a little weird but, I think it's pretty good
Mommy was disappointed when the owner told her about the hyenas. I looked up at the house, it's royal paint scheme contrasting with the surrounding woods, with smoke rising merrily into the dark sky, it looked inviting compared to the gloomy fall day. Mommy and Daddy talked for a second, then said "We'll take it, it's a good deal."
Over the next week, with much hard work, we moved into the house. Mommy warned me not to go into the basement because it was a big and scary and no place for me. She said that I shouldn’t even look through when they opened the door. Daddy, agreeing with her, told me that we were going on a big shopping spree to make the house look however I wanted.
The next day the house was shades
of bright blue and pink paint splattered all over the old finely patterned
wallpaper. The carefully embroidered carpet and rugs were ripped and broken.
With Mommy and Daddy laughing as I splattered paint over the walls of the kitchen
I attacked the fine drapes of the windows in happiness tearing them up and
yelling, laughing, screaming. I tore and painted every fine part of the house
until all that was left was neon blue and torn cloth.
The thing that scared me about the
house was the door to the basement, old and beaten with rusty hinges that
creaked and groaned every time Mommy and Daddy opened it. The door never took paint;
it would only runoff into an undignified puddle on the ground. So Mommy and Daddy
had the frame painted with as much paint as it could take, so it wouldn’t scare
me so much. The door looked as if it had been there for one hundred years and
it would remain there one hundred more.
One day I heard a loud grinding
noise coming from the basement door. I tiptoed over to see what it was, It was
a… a thing, rippling with muscle that moved as if it had a life separate from
its owner, eyes as red as blood, a bald ugly head, and a growl filled with malice I screamed for Daddy at the top of my lungs,
He came racing down the stairs gun
in hand. Turning the corner he shot the thing he shot it again and again and
again the grabbed the body and threw it out the window. turning to me he said “It’s
ok it’s ok there was no monster, it’s ok not one monster left that basement.”
I remember this as I stare at the
basement door turning my favorite yo-yo over in my hands. I turn it and turn and
I remember how that fake thing had scared me and drop it. It rolls,
disappearing under the basement door, down the stairs. I scream, but Daddy says
no. I push him, I open the door, and I grab the yo-yo. My sleeve gets caught - and
I fall…and fall…and fall until I hit the ground. Then eyes open, nasty eyes, evil eyes, eyes
bigger than I remember - and I scream
