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Lady in Red
By Jesslyn

It was a tranquil sultry afternoon, where amid the myriad of grays, streaks of reds and
golds ignited through the wisps of velvet clouds. Beneath the copper hues, two boys were
practicing baseball near the abandoned house belonging to the Johnson family.

“Don't be a chicken,” Charlie voiced, “It was your fault for hitting the ball too hard.”

Charlie looked pleased with himself, bat in hand and a face full of gleam. Staring at the tossed
ball deep in the yard of the old Johnson house, Justin mustered up his courage as he attempted
to brush away the appalling stories he had heard about it and its owners.

Afar, the house looked modest, but when Justin clambered up the gate, he realized that he was
about to get a lot more than he bargained for out of this trip. Around the abandoned landscape,
greens of vines and creepers grew wildly, yet a prepossessing sight had captivated him. Nestled
in the lush greenery of the surrounding nature was a house that stood in an equanimous way. As
if it had chosen solitude for itself. As if the residents were a luxury it could forgo. Around the base
of the columns were beds of withered flora, which had seemed to be arrays of white Jasmine,
and bell-shaped Morning Glories.

Justin picked the ball up, just as Charlie had instructed him to do so, and in that particular
moment, he decided that he would be taking an exploration around the deserted Johnson
house. Coyly, he led himself along the weed tufted gravel drive and to the back entrance of the
house, which portrayed a small wooden door. One turn of the rusty doorknob and the entry
opened in a soft click, soon releasing a rush of cool dampened air filled with echoes of sorrows
and lacrimation. The room he had found himself in was dark. Thick with dust. Musty and vacant
except for the erection of great stretchings of webs around the fireplace.

On the spur of the moment, there was an ear-splitting crash. It appeared to have come from
upstairs. Justin's hair stood on an edge, and he hesitated - perplexed, bewildered, and terrified.

What was that sound? Could it be a ghost?

He was at sixes and sevens about whether to proceed upstairs or turn tail and run. After
collecting his bravery, Justin tiptoed up the stairs to investigate. Reaching the highest of the
stairs, Justin noticed three doors on one facet of a passageway. With his heart pounding
against his chest and trembling sweaty hands, Justin trod carefully to the corridor, threw
open the first door, and paused on the threshold. The room consisted of dusty furnishings,
and a seemingly overpowering musty odor emanated from the room. There was an antique
carved table next to a brass bed. The pillows and sheets were in disarray. It appeared like
the occupants had left the room in such an exceedingly hurry.

CRASH! There was another raucous sound. This time, Justin speculated that the noise must
have come from the last room at the far end of the hall. As he walked warily across the bare

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