A More Surprising World
Alex Pototschnik Age 10
“I’m Inky. Want to Make a Deal?” CONTENT WARNING: READER, PROCEED WITH CAUTION The following story is scary and suspenseful. It is not recommended for readers under ten or sensitive readers of any age. “I dare you to go in there,” said Jack. We were standing in front of the old wooden cabin that was in front of the woods. No grass grew on the tiny front yard, and the house itself seemed to be being consumed by the twisted trees. “Oh, come on!” I said, “You know that’s where the forest witch lives!” We both shuddered at the idea. “I heard she eats little kids for breakfast—and adults for lunch!”Jack said. He snickered. “I didn’t think it was funny.” “So are you going in there, or are you too chicken?” he said. “I guess I’ll do it,” I responded. “Besides, I’m not scared of anything!” I lied. I opened the rusty gate and stepped into the front yard. The sound of the creaking gate echoed through the empty neighborhood. I stepped up to the house. The wooden stairs creaked and cracked under my weight. The dusty air of the front entrance blew into my face. I stepped onto the dust-covered red carpet on the floor. No furniture was inside the room. Just me. Wind blew against the small, old house and shook the windows all around me. The door slammed shut behind me. “Must’ve been the wind,” I muttered. I stepped over to the collapsed staircase leading upstairs. I started digging through the broken wood. I didn’t know what I was looking for. Once I had moved all the fallen debris away, I started to think maybe being at this house wasn’t such a bad thing after all. There, at the center of the space I had cleared out, was a yellowed piece of paper. Written on the back in red ink were the words, “DRAWING PAPER.” I stuffed the piece of paper in my pocket and rode my bike over to my house. When I got home, about five minutes later, I went straight up to my room and started drawing.
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