Kelly Melvin

Meg... or Lily?

It was raining outside, and it was dark. All I could hear was the raindrops and the rustling of the leaves — nothing else. Yet I was sure I had heard something; a burglar, maybe, or the giant tarantula I’d read about just before bedtime.

Again: a creak, just outside the window. Then, a muffled scream — or was it a yowl? I shivered in my bed and tucked my head under the pillow.

By the way, my name’s Meg Arnold. I don’t go to school because my parents insist on home-schooling. A minor detail: my house is haunted.

Even when I shut the door tightly, it swings open with a scary groan. The floorboards creak like somebody is walking on them. I especially dread the nights, the nights filled with creaks, groans, screams, yowls and howls. I’ve gotten used to it, but it’s still not a lullaby.

I have talked to my parents, but they think I’m crazy — “I’ve booked you Saturday with the psychologist,” Mom announced gently.

“Honey, are you feeling all right? Want some hot chocolate?” Dad offered.

I don’t know who to tell, who would understand.

Creeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaakkkkkkkkkkkkk.

Okay, I’ll get out of bed. I have to see what that is. I’m sleepwalking to the window...
Falling down in shock, I roll on the cold, wooden floor.

Wait a minute, our house is made of stone!!

Lily Hanne woke up on the hard stone floor of her mansion.

“What a funny dream I had,” she murmured.

Suddenly she heard a creak near the window.