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Week Thirteen – Journal One

Little Abigail ran gaily around the backyard, picking flowers from her mother's garden and holding them aloft as she twirled around in her new summer dress. Her mother had told her to stay close to the house because in a little while they were going to her friend Samantha's birthday party. Samantha had just turned seven and she was going to have clowns and lots of balloons at her party.

As Abigail spun around and around, singing to herself, the little house across the field suddenly caught her attention. It was just a run-down little shack and it was empty, but Abigail thought she'd seen something moving through one of the windows. Ever since they'd moved to this new home a little while ago, she had been fascinated with it. She had asked her mother if she could use it as her play house, but her mother had strictly forbidden it. She had told her that there had been a fire in that little house a long time ago and some little girls had died in it. Although, Abigail thought that it was sad that the little girls had died, she still didn't understand why she couldn't play in it. There weren't any fires in there now and she definitely wasn't going to start one.

Abigail kept staring at the little house. The gray paint was peeling off all over it, and where there had once been windows, there were now only large, gaping holes. She looked back over her shoulder at the back door to see if her mother was watching her. When she didn't see her, she slowly started walking towards the deserted little shack, holding the flowers she'd been picking down by her side. She walked across the barren field with her eyes glued to the windows. The sun, which had been shining brightly, suddenly disappeared and a slight wind began to blow, rustling Abigail's hair and causing her little dress to float around her.

The closer Abigail got to the little house, the more she thought she could hear whispers and what seemed to be someone giggling. But how could that be? There was no one out here. Her mother had told her so. When she had gotten close to the little house, she stopped. The front door was hanging on it's hinges and partially closed, but she could see through to the empty room inside. Something kept her from going any farther.

She tilted her head, thinking she'd heard something. What was that? It sounded like someone was whispering her name.....”Aaabigaaaaaail.” It was a little girl's voice and it made Abigail feel creepy. Her heart started pounding and she slowly started backing away from the house. Because she was backing up, she didn't see the big rock on the ground and she went tumbling onto her backside. Suddenly, Abigail heard a chorus of giggling girls. She jumped up from the ground, eyes bulging out of her head, and turned and ran at full speed, arms flailing, until she got back to the main house. Her mother was going to be mad that she'd gotten her dress dirty, but probably more upset about her going out to that old house, so she wasn't going to tell her about that. Once she was brave enough, though, she had some more exploring to do out there.