Do you have something to share? Send us your poetry, stories, school events and other reports using this form.
In the small town of Hollow Creek, whispers of the old Miller house sent chills down spines. Abandoned for decades, it loomed at the end of a twisted path, its windows like dark eyes watching every move.
One fateful evening, a group of friends – Liam, Sarah, and Jake – decided to explore the infamous house. Armed with flashlights and a sense of bravado, they made their way through the overgrown yard, the moon casting eerie shadows on the ground.
As the door creaked open, it revealed a dimly lit hallway adorned with peeling wallpaper and dust-covered furniture.
“This place is creepy,” Sarah whispered, her voice trembling.
“Come on, it’s just an old house,” Liam replied, trying to sound brave.
They ventured deeper, the floorboards groaning beneath their feet. Each step felt like an intrusion, as if the house itself were alive and aware.
In the living room, they found a cracked mirror hung crookedly on the wall. As they gazed into it, a figure appeared behind them – a fleeting shadow that vanished when they turned. Jake laughed nervously, but a knot formed in Sarah’s stomach.
The atmosphere grew heavier, the air thick with dread. Suddenly, a loud bang echoed from upstairs. They froze, hearts racing.
Before anyone could respond, a cold breeze swept through the room, extinguishing their flashlights. Darkness enveloped them. They scrambled for the door, but it slammed shut. A chilling laughter filled the air.
The friends huddled together, desperate for a way out. Then, through the darkness, a faint glow appeared – a woman in a tattered dress, her eyes hollow and sorrowful.
“Leave this place,” she whispered. The door creaked open, and they bolted into the night.




