Winner of the 2020 European Book Awards
By Billy Walsh
Alfred was a bright child, frequently bestowed with awards at school prize-giving ceremonies. Despite his academic achievements, however, he was complacent. Chaperoned for hours on end, sometimes he could be described as selfish. This boy’s perfect life, though, was not destined to last. It was Christmas Eve and precious Alfred was boasting about his recent accolades to his affluent parents. They had grown tired of this boasting habit of his, so tried to avoid the topic of education. The family of three was gathered around their large table in their unnecessarily grey dining room. The table was made of oak, but its top was a thick layer of transparent glass. The room was a spacious one, dimly lit and lined with old paintings. A hearty fire burned in the grate and a few feet to the side of it stood an enormous Christmas tree draped in (genuine) gold tinsel. “Oh, Alfred my boy, how about we share some scary ghost stories,” said Alfred’s father, Charles encouragingly. “Oh, father I am not a young child anymore, anyways ghosts clearly do not exist as proved by many scientific theories!” This young boy was so bright, but nobody can know everything. Clearly, he was not as quick witted as he claimed to be if he did not know about the apparitions and rumors that had not been proved a hoax…
The next day started like any other, Alfred deftly was awarded with more paramount awards. Despite his selfishness, the poor child did not have any friends or companions, he was described as merely being “the teacher’s pet!” You would have to have some sympathy toward him. Alfred carried on through the monotonous day until he realized that everyone was gossiping about something in common. He boldly strolled along to a fellow classmate who was named George. “What on earth are you all talking about, I demand an answer!” “None of your concern Alfred, anyways you’re too much of a scaredy-cat to participate in our doings.” Alfred kept asking for a clear answer until another boy, who Alfred did not know the name of spoke, “Oh if you insist, we are planning to go to this awfully peculiar house and rumor has it, its haunted,” he uttered. Alfred went on to how the supernatural where merely lies and how many scientific theories had proved this. “I’m coming with you uneducated boys to prove how these phantoms you describe do not exist!” And so, they agreed to take Alfred to the house. When he got back to his prodigious estate, he lied to his father. He said that a boy named George had affectionately invited him to his house for a night. As of this, his father packed sleeping bags, luxurious foods, and his book on the theory of relativity.
As night came, Alfred grew gradually more excited, he had never been with friends before. Alfred was also elevated to prove them wrong. Just as the clock struck ten, Alfred departed the house. He chose to take his bicycle to this meeting place as although Alfred did not believe in these rumors, the setting that night was rather eerie. The mist twirled around him dynamically and the cold made his throat freeze. As he was nearing the “ghost house”, he noticed its large balcony, rotting blue paint and its large boarded up windows. Also, he noticed the almost out of sight graveyard. “Just part of the chosen scenery to make me agitated and uncomfortable. He turned a rather unanticipated corner and managed to see George and the other boy. “Never thought you’d turn up,” mocked George. Alfred chose to ignore his rudeness. Reluctantly, the trio entered through the large, death black door. As they trudged into the rather large settlement, Alfred realized the house’s dullness, it was nothing compared to his. Everything was either scratched or dented, everything covered in what seemed to be soot. The kitchen was full of cracked and smashed 18th century looking cutlery. They gathered the courage to go upstairs and saw a cramped bathroom with a cracked mirror with a blood red spray painted cross. “Are you scared yet Alfred,” came a moan from George. “Don’t be foolish!” laughed Alfred. They wandered into the bedroom and found a place to set up their sleeping bags and get some well needed rest…
Abruptly, Alfred awoke and saw the other boy (who he did not know the name of) shake, he was sitting, scratching like a dog at the pale rotted door. To be fair, the boy looked the same color as the door. Alfred attempted to talk to him, but it was as if he did not hear him. This was out of order. Alfred began to worry slightly but tried to conceal his inner- feelings. Suddenly, the boy kicked at the door which then slowly opened. He then wandered lifelessly into a room that the boys had not noticed at their arrival. Alfred then ploddingly followed. As he entered the room, he noticed a rather minute sign which just made out the word Gatewood Manor. The other boy then sat at the foot of a large closet that was probably from the 18th century, it was showing obvious signs of age. It was painted baby blue as if it belonged to a child, but its paint was wearing off, showing an undercoat of wood. Alfred did not know what to do but had a prickling sensation that almost forced him to open the closet. He saw his wrists go white and began to sweat profusely. He heard the door creak and then heard a rather creepy, chilling noise downstairs and a large scream. Thump... pause, thump... pause. He kept hearing this noise over and over, continuously creeping. His instincts kicked in and he ran, only the sound of his feet on the old floorboards of Gatewood Manor giving out a subtle creak. He stopped at the end of the hall and wandered down the slender stairs‌
Alfred walked into the large kitchen of the house and saw a note on the floor, Charlie, the boy who lived. “Charlie the boy who lived,” he repeated, as if he were hypnotized. As he said this, a white figure embedded in a funeral gown revealed herself from the dark crevasse of the room, her eyes a void, empty. She widened her elongated mouth, revealing un-humanly teeth. Suddenly, she screamed a dreadful scream and whispered, “Charlie the boy who lived,” around a dozen times until Alfred finally had the urge to run. He sprinted at full pace out of the house, not caring of his abandoned book on relativity and very expensive food and sprinted with haste to his own comforting home. He opened the door and sighed deeply, “Seriously, I loved that book!” Sometimes Alfred still hears the sinister lady’s scream. He has not been back to the Manor ever since his last visit…
A young boy called Alfred, lives a normal life until he is told by two boys about the Gatewood Manor. He is determined to reach the manor and survive the night until a strange figure appears and the three boys, are left for the ghostly creature that inhabits the Gatewood Manor…
‘A thrilling read,’ the Guardian ‘Spine-chilling,’ the Times
Winner of the European book awards 2020