Acknowledgement

This book is the final result of a team effort. We gratefully acknowledge everyone who contributed to this task at different levels and capacities.

TM Chandima Gayan, the President of the Siyane Toastmasters Club, thanks a lot for the support and encouragement to implement this project.

We thank all the authors who penned their beautiful thoughts. Your effort laid the foundation of this creation. Your dedication, courage, and discipline are highly appreciated.

We owe a huge thank you to all the judges of the "Tales Around the Fire" Short Story Competition who took the time to read these stories and gave their valuable decisions.

Also, we would like to recognise the editors who polished and primed the stories to bring out the best.

The editorial and proofreading team: TM Shanika, Ranasinghe, TM Chamin Athauda and TM Roshini Perera

We honour the creativity and dedication of the book designers in making this story collection a beautiful book.

TM Ravindu Mirihana, and TM Sanduni Eriyagama, we value your efforts. Thank you very much.

We recognise TM Gamunu Jayasundara for his unmatched support and encouragement in making this project a success. Thank you very much for everything.

Last but not least, we gratefully appreciate every member of Siyane Toastmasters who showed interest in the project, participated in the workshops and helped in every possible way till this book is finally ready for the eagerly waiting eyes.

Foreword

Once upon a time, long before language existed, primitive humans started storytelling in the form of cave art. The Chauvet cave in France is believed to be the oldest representation of storytelling found thus far, dating to 36,000 years ago. Ever since storytelling has been an innate human need. The art of storytelling, which started as pictorial depictions, later evolved into oral tradition, handwritten manuscripts and later, after the invention of printing in 1450 by Johannes Gutenberg, took the form of books.

Humans put the foundation of their lives on stories. The stories we hear on our mother and grandmother's laps, the bedtime stories that lull us into sleep, the stories we learn at school and the stories we create nurture us into adulthood.

Storytelling brings people together. It is an effective method of communication and has benefits beyond mere entertainment and enjoyment. There is nothing like a story to stimulate the imagination, which is a mighty tool against many problems.

Stories help us explore and understand different cultures and to live a thousand lives that we will never be able to live in reality. This experience exposes us to different situations and lets us walk in the shoes of a million people, starting from an emperor to a labourer to a homeless man. That is how the most crucial element of empathy is developed.

Writing a story also gives us ample opportunities to explore the world out of curiosity. The literary devices, vocabulary, perspectives and all the language-related information we come across during the story-writing process are significant advantages in language learning. The outcome is better knowledge.

Also, to sit quietly for a period, think , and pen one's thoughts take discipline. It strengthens the focusing power of the mind. The person who masters this skill will achieve so much in life. A person who listens to, reads, or writes stories is better at all these virtues . That is how storytelling makes a better person.

Also, to sit quietly for a period, think , and pen one's thoughts take discipline. It strengthens the focusing power of the mind. The person who masters this skill will achieve so much in life. A person who listens to, reads, or writes stories is better at all these virtues . That is how storytelling makes a better person.

This world needs more storytellers. Storytellers who know about the world, nature, the universe and the fellow humans. Storytellers who can take us across time to other dimensions, imagine better worlds, and predict the future. Storytelling will be a good starting point if anyone wants to change the world, make peace, and create a better society for future generations. It will teach the world to be sensitive to each other's emotions and needs. It will teach the world that the same thing can be viewed from different angles, and each perspective is correct from the given angle. It will show the power and beauty of imagination and words well-chosen

Tales Around the Fire, Short Story Collection is such an effort by the members of Siyane Toastmasters. This book is the result of the amalgamation of imagination and well-chosen words of some beautiful souls who dared to take the challenge. I invite you to read their stories and see where a simple picture can take the human mind wandering. Between these pages, you will walk through mystic dales and abandoned castles, meet mythical creatures from unknown dimensions and mysterious people with strange eyes.

Writing

It all started with a, A wooden wall

A gaping slit, and A curious little boy

Turn the page and enter the magical and mysterious universes they created just for you. Enjoy!

“It is just a field of grass? Why would anyone build a wall setting it apart? Point- less since there are many fields of grass. Why did this have to be hidden? Who did it? Why?”

Nemeilumine and Mystic Dale ShanikaRanasinghe

What is behind that wall?” he wondered while his knees ached from the pressure, and his back protested for a break. A bleak wall of wooden boards, cracked and paint faded at the bottom. It is a question he got no answer from any adult.

“

Jason Hilton, ten years old, was in his home garden, out of sight of the house. He was kneeling and half bent, gazing intently in front of him. Since he was five years old, he had wondered about that wooden wall, what was behind it, who built that wall, and why; but no answers came to his questions. As a toddler with his grandparents, he had seen it, smiled and dimpled at it; as an infant with his parents, he had started questioning it; as a boy of seven, eight, and nine, with various family members, his questions continued, but, unfortunately, without answers. No one knew about it. “It is just a wall made of wooden boards, son”, the answer was so clichéd. He couldn’t tell why the wall intrigued him so much, but it did. It aroused his curiosity and made him mope about at home. Since noticing a crack through which he could peep inside, he spent hours kneeling near the wall, trying to have some little clue as to what could be behind it. But he couldn’t find anything.

Today is another such day when he couldn’t control his curiosity anymore; he couldn’t mope about at home anymore. Ready to be disappointed, as always, he leant even closer, ignoring his protesting back and aching knees, and for the first time ever, placed his face against the crack. All he saw was little green blades trying to stand straight against the gentle wind which ruffled them. “It is just a field of grass? Why would anyone build a wall setting it apart? Pointless since there are many fields of grass. Why did this have to be hidden? Who did it? Why?” Questions whizzed around his brain. He longed, more than ever, to be out there. “Would you like to come in and see?” a soft voice asked. He started, looked around, and saw no one. Excited, he framed his little face around the crack once again, and the same voice was heard, the same question repeated. “Yes, please,” he answered. “Then, place your hands on the twin rainbows on your side of the wooden wall.” “Twin rainbows on my side?!” Sceptical but excited and thrilled, he drew back from the wall, and the first thing he noticed were two little rainbows, glowy and cute, bright with the seven colours, four feet above the bottom of the wall. Rising, he pressed both hands onto the rainbows. The rainbows, softer than downy pillows, moved around his hands, matching the shape of the two little pressed palms, the colours glowing brighter and prettier. A doorway formed, domed and gilded. Jason ran through the doorway to see the calm, quiet field of grass he saw earlier.

“What happened to it? Where is it?” he wondered aloud. He was standing in a woodland, aglow with soft hues of pink, blue, purple and yellow. There were little elves running, fairies fluttering, rows of pretty flowers gently rocking in the wind, with pretty little faces popping out of some, and far off, he saw a gleam of crystal and a strawberry Pegasus stretching and flapping its wings. He wheeled around and saw a wall of thickly-grown ivy, the leaves rainbow-hued.

“What were you looking for?” the soft voice was heard again. Looking sideways, Jason saw a rosy fairy with lovely pink eyes, chestnut tresses and a dress of roses near him. He said, “I saw an endless field of grass through the crack in the wall. I thought that is what was hidden by the wall.” “That is what you would see until you are ready to see the real magic, Jason,” the fairy said. “My name is Rosebud,” she continued, and they shook hands. “How do you know my name?” He was surprised. “Since your birth, the fairies have kept watching over you, and your name is not unfamiliar to fairy folk.” Rosebud beamed; her pink eyes danced. He returned her radiant smile, and hand in hand, Rosebud and Jason walked to explore the mystic land.

In Mystic Dale, they saw Flower Fairies, fairies born inside flowers and dressed in fairy dresses the colour of the flower petals. They offered Flower Pops and Flower Cups to Rosebud and Jason. He popped a blue Flower Pop into his mouth, and it was a cupcake flavoured with bluebells. Flower Cups were full of an amber liquid which tasted of bees’ honey and mint juice. Thanking them for the refreshments, Rosebud and Jason continued the walk, the hues of Mystic Dale shining on their faces. Elves and pixies were busy with chores, helping each other; robin redbreasts and doves weaving through the trees, and every now and then, helping the fairy folk of Mystic Dale. On and on, Rosebud and Jason walked towards the gleam of crystal. Drawing nearer, he understood that it was a lake in the woodland, Mystic Mer Lake. Mermaids, mermen, and water fairies danced and sang, cuddled dolphins and swam. Jason could see a bunch of moving rainbows further ahead. His jaw dropped open when he understood that the moving rainbows were actually Pegasi and centaurs with varied body colours, cantering and stretching their wings. Unicorns trotted about, their horns glistening in the hues of Mystic Dale, silvery, golden and rainbowy, and munched the lush green grass. Now and then, a fairy would come by, pet and play with a Pegasus or a unicorn. The strawberry Pegasus he saw earlier trotted up to Rosebud; she fed him apples and rested her forehead on its slender one. Jason drank all the beauties around and, spotting an easel with paper, brush and paint, started painting the different landscapes.

Hitherto, the ambience was warm, bright, cheerful, and cosy; the air was filled with birds’ songs and mermaids’ singing. Suddenly, far off in the distance, a horrible wailing started. Goosebumps popped up on the skin, and shivers ran up and down at light speed through his spine when Jason heard it; it was a death wail. Thunder cracked ahead, and lightning flashed, but no drops fell from heaven. Everyone stopped their work and huddled together. A depressing chill engulfed Mystic Dale while the soft hues of the woodland diminished. Bluebell, a fair fairy with lovely blue eyes, flaxen tresses and a dress of bluebells, flew over with Lilac, another fair fairy living true to its name; both extremely pallid. “We have terrible news! Finchyes is hobbling along towards our woodland, and Kreeyes hasn’t stopped her wail either!” The fairy folk gathered around were shocked at the news Bluebell and Lilac delivered. It made no sense to Jason, who asked: “Who are Finchyes and Kreeyes?” “Finchyes is the ugliest and most wicked hag alive, who detests us fairy folk, and Kreeyes is a banshee, whose wail foretells imminent death”, Lilac explained. “After her wail, Kreeyes definitely visits Mystic Dale. If Finchyes and Kreeyes both visit together, it is terrifying.” Jason paled like the fairy folk. “What shall we do?

Is there any way to bind them forever?” he asked. They all said no, but then, MerBlue, a water nymph with silver-blue curls and a dress of ocean blue, appeared from the lake and said, “There is a way to bind Finchyes forever so that she cannot bother us anymore. This silver-blue crystal must be brought in contact with a rainbow horn of a unicorn for one hour. Then, Finchyes should keep it on both her palms for twenty-four hours while someone chants the Nemeilumine spell to safeguard fairy folk and their lands from hags. At the end of that duration, Finchyes will be whisked away without any remembrance of Mystic Dale and bound forever so that she cannot return. For Kreeyes, a potion has to be given. The potion ingredients are cloves, button mushrooms, marigolds, sunflower seeds, honey, mint leaves, gold fairy dust and silver pixie dust. These should be mixed and boiled for eight hours while someone chants the Nemeilumine spell to safeguard fairy folk and their lands from banshees. After drinking the potion, Kreeyes will be whisked away, without any remembrance of Mystic Dale and bound forever, so she cannot return either.” The fairies, delighted, promised to do as MerBlue said. But she shook her head. “No fairy can do this. Then Finchyes and Kreeyes will feel it and cast a dark spell on the fairy. It has to be Jason, whose actions will not be felt by Finchyes and Kreeyes. Jason, will you help the fairy folk and Mystic Dale?” Jason was stunned. To be chosen like that to save a mystic land belonging to the fairy folk, he was speechless. The fairy folk turned as one to look at him, their expressions fearful at his momentary silence. Then, he nodded. “Of course, I will. I love to help the fairy folk and Mystic Dale,” he smiled.

Hope came back to their hearts. Jason said the potion must be brewed first of all so that it will be ready first. Then everyone can think of a way to trick Finchyes into holding the silverblue crystal in her palms. They agreed and flew in all directions to find the ingredients. In a quiet spot in Mystic Dale, Jason lit a fire with pinewood while ten elves brought a bronze cauldron from Mystic Mer Lake. While the cauldron heated, the fairies brought the ingredients in baskets and crystal jars. Jason added them in the order MerBlue said and started mixing and boiling while chanting the spell for Kreeyes:

“

Loa gazeni juncema elrojofo pollonilla él óv notiraumeer

Pir endejo erdbienig minzojol abemendue da ol cornausozen

Aso ollimi honzemmer petikehchos unifeenschnio om si saffeenstaer”

Through the chill of the death wail and rumble of thunder, Jason’s voice rang out with the

Nemeilumine spell like a soft ray of light. Incessantly, for eight long hours, the potion boiled, coloured and bubbled, stopping with a teal green hue and a mint odour. They covered the cauldron and hid a tall crystal phial nearby. Jason had just taken the silver-blue crystal to his hands when Bluebell flew over, pallid as a white bell. “Finchyes is here! And Kreeyes is coming as well! She is still far but definitely coming.” Rosebud, then a shivering white rose, whispered, “The potion for Kreeyes is ready. Jason is about to start crystal holding.” At that moment, the death wail was heard again so close at hand that Jason spun around to see Kreeyes standing beside him. But no Kreeyes was there, and it was just her voice ringing through Mystic Dale. Kreeyes had come to Mystic Dale!! Rosebud, Bluebell, Lilac, Peony, Sunflower, two centaurs, and five elves huddled closer, hiding Jason from view. Then, a grating, cackling soprano voice was heard, ordering pixies to chop up logs and elves to carry bags of black gold across seven lunar distances. Bubbles, a water fairy, flew towards the group and said their lake was freezing, and Flower Fairies’ flowers had started withering. “They will soon wither and droop, and Mystic Mer Lake will freeze, destroying aquatic fairy folk.” It was shocking news. Jason and the fairies felt nothing could be worse than that when Sandy, fairy dust-keeper and Shimmer, pixie dust-keeper, came running. They looked like they were about to faint. “The glow of pixie dust and fairy dust has dulled, becoming a dark black, because of Kreeyes’ wail.” The listening fairy folk turned marble white. “Fairy folk cannot exist if fairy dust and pixie dust become leaden. And Mystic Dale will be destroyed since everyone draws strength from fairy dust and pixie dust!” It sounded the end of the pretty fairyland he had found that morning. Jason felt his eyes welling up with tears. He tried to regain his courage to help his friends. He felt the fairies looking at him, their eyes pleading mutely to save their homeland. It hurt him. Just then, Aster and Forget-Me-Not came flying and said, “Finchyes ordered all the fairies to warm crystal water for her bath and to wait on her while bathing. Oh, what can we do? She is so scary and ugly.” The fairies near Jason shook with anger and fear. To be slaves to the most evil hag! The thought is fearful and loathsome. Jason’s head drooped in despair. He saw the silver-blue crystal clutched in his hands, glowing faintly. The death wail still ringing through Mystic Dale, the sudden climax of things overwhelmed him. Praying for a solution, he gazed at the crystal in his hands. All of a sudden, he knew what should be done. He looked around and saw the fairies crying and shaking. Hugging them all, he comforted them: “Please don’t cry. I have a plan.” They looked at him, amazed, wondering. He asked whether they have bath sponges or loofahs, and the fairies said they use gossamer loofahs when bathing. “They are soft as down or silk, Jason. All fairy folk use those.” “Nice! Can you all find twenty such and two bathtubs now?” asked Jason. They replied in affirmative. “All right. Then listen up, quickly,” he said. He detailed the plan. Everyone gasped. The centaurs, wise and foresighted, agreed with Jason’s plan. “It is the only way. They will suspect nothing,” the low bass voices said. The fairies also agreed and, leaving the centaurs and elves with Jason, went to put the plan into action. Jason asked an elf to call a unicorn with a rainbow horn to him.

Meanwhile, in another part of Mystic Dale, the fairies had put Jason’s plan into action. After finding twenty gossamer loofahs and filling two bathtubs with warm crystal water, they, pleasant and welcoming, invited Finchyes and Kreeyes to have a bath while they waited on them both. Surprised, Finchyes and Kreeyes accepted and got into the bathtubs. The fairies waited on both like court ladies waited on their queen. After bathing and dressing in their clothes, freshly laundered by the fairies, they were escorted to two separate elf houses. Chairs of the softest heather gave them rest and relaxation. The fairies continued waiting on them and entertaining them, waiting for the finale. Jason, dressed as an elf, first visited Kreeyes, carrying the tall crystal phial filled with the teal green potion and mint leaves perched on the brim. Curtsying, he presented the potion to Kreeyes, who accepted with pleasure and gratitude. She drained it and laid the phial down. For a fleeting second, her eyes went blank, and the next moment, she vanished as if caught in a hurricane. Sandy and Shimmer, at their posts, sent an elf to deliver the good news: the glow of fairy dust and pixie dust had returned. Bubbles appeared in a bubble and delivered good news from Mystic Mer Lake and Flower Fairies’ flowers. One part of the plan is over. Now for the second and the hardest. The fairies were frightened. Jason, in his disguise, visited Finchyes with the silver-blue crystal. Curtsying, he said, “Madam Finchyes, I have brought a gift for you. This will give your youth and beauty back to you if you keep this crystal on both your palms for twenty-four hours, while I shall entertain you for the entire duration by reciting a Gaelic lyric that will soothe and calm your weary spirit. Would you allow this?” Finchyes, surprised and thrilled, cackled, “Yes, Elfin, of course. You may do so. Now, place the crystal on my palms, and I will wait and listen to you for twenty-four hours.” “You are most kind, Madam Finchyes, generous and considerate.” Jason slowly rose and placed the silver-blue crystal on both of Finchyes’ palms. Then he chanted the spell for Finchyes:

“Imo knopse unioceno haduenda perojoti ón ín sareflieer

Ein palozu moploilla fedelel maneeung be en keschasos

Kol roteno triaguia miliella fliglommer im de mefrinze”

His voice, soft, childish, and varied in tone, gave a poetic beauty to the Nemeilumine spell. Hours passed, and Jason varied his voice to dispel the monotony, and the familiarity of the words. Hours ticked by, and the sun set and rose outside. Finchyes still held the crystal and listened to Jason chanting the spell. Twenty-four hours completed; momentarily, Finchyes’ eyes went blank, and the next second, she vanished as if caught in a hurricane. The fairy folk sent a cheer and hugged Jason, who was breathless and hoarse.

“You saved us and Mystic Dale, Jason. Thank you so much for all you did and your friendship!” He was hugged, clapped on the back and cheered. He felt so blessed by their love and friendship. A fairy feast was set, and everyone enjoyed it. The fairy folk danced, the mermaids sang, birds chirped, unicorns, Pegasi, and centaurs galloped and munched the grass. Jason loved the feast and the memories and resumed his painting.

The revelry over, Jason had to go back home. All his new friends gave a souvenir to him to remember them by, and a portfolio embroidered by fairies for his paintings. He went to the wall of rainbow ivy, and pressed his hands into the middle. The gilded, domed doorway appeared; he saw his home far off in the distance. Loth to leave, he turned back, shared a final many-armed bear hug, turned and faced his home. He walked on, blinking back his tears, the souvenirs and the portfolio hugged close to his chest. Back at home, he wondered what to say about his absence for two days. A surprise awaited him. The grandfather clock in the visiting room said it was still afternoon of the same day he had discovered Mystic Dale.

“

It was a very narrow slit, a crack in the wall. I peeped through it. Behold. The rabbit was nowhere to be seen. Instead, there was a large mansion standing in the middle of a large garden.”

Eyes

HansaneeSenevirathne

Do you believe in ghosts? Have you ever encountered a ghost? These may seem like strange questions to you, but it’s very important to answer them before moving on. And if you are confident that there are no ghosts in this world, you might have to rethink your idea after reading my story. Even after fifteen years, the memories of that day still give me goosebumps. Alright, without further waiting, let’s see what I have to say about ghosts.

It all started one Sunday afternoon. I was just ten years then. Short-haired, wearing jeans and fancied by horror movies. We, my parents and I, had just moved into the countryside because my parents had finally decided to run the farm that they had inherited. I didn’t like the idea at all because I loved life in the town, the school, friends, neighbours and everything in it. Now I’m not going to meet my friends or eat the chocolates I really loved. But mom said, “You will love this life, honey. Just wait and see.” I didn’t believe her at first, but when we entered the countryside, I was enchanted by the beauty of the surrounding. There were long fields covered with green grass and a lot of wildflowers. I couldn’t believe their range of colours; yellow, red, orange, blue, purple, pink; shades and shades of them.

“Honey, that is our farm. Peep your head out and see. Isn’t it beautiful?”

My mom said to me cheerfully. It was actually beautiful; a vast land of greenery surrounded by a white fence from the front. There was a beautiful white-washed house in the middle of the field. I had already started to love this place, but I didn’t want to show it to my parents. So I maintained the sour face that I had throughout the journey.

After unloading our belongings, mom wanted me to go out and play. She said that would cheer me up. I went out to explore the land. I remember the back garden needed much clearing at the moment. Unlike the front, this part was secured with a huge wall made of red-coloured wood. It stood a bit far from the house. I went near that. It was so tall that I couldn’t see the other side of it. I tried to find a place just to glimpse what was on the other side of that wall. But I was so small, so I had to give up.

The next few days, we were very busy arranging the house. I almost forgot the back garden and the huge wall behind it. After about a week, I was wandering towards the back garden. The garden was so beautiful in the morning, and I thought of collecting some wildflowers on my way to the back garden. Suddenly, a rabbit was under a huge tree I didn’t know the name of. The whitest, fluffiest rabbit that I have ever seen. I went closer, I wanted to touch it, feel the velvet touch of its fur. But it ran. I followed it. Then, it went through a small hole at the bottom of the wooden wall. It was a very narrow slit, a crack in the wall. I peeped through it. Behold. The rabbit was nowhere to be seen. Instead, there was a large mansion standing in the middle of a large garden. I was stunned. A sudden chill ran through my veins. It was a magnificent house. But it looked mysterious at the same time. I couldn’t figure out why I got so attracted to it. Maybe it’s because of the magnificent look, or was it really curiosity? It looked abandoned for a long time. The garden and the house needed a lot of maintenance; the old and rusty gate, the long-neglected front yard, the broken windows, and the garden full of weeds. It was like a mystery house that I had seen in horror movies. I stared at it for a long time.

“Martha, where are you? Come inside for tea.” I was startled. It was my mother’s voice which dropped me back into reality. I rushed into the house. Even during tea, I was still thinking about that house I saw through the hole.

The very next day, I peeped through the hole again. I wanted to have a better look at the place. I wondered whether there was anybody in that house. My little mind was filled with many thoughts about that house. I wondered whether I would be able to see a ghost there, like those in horror movies. But I saw nothing. It just stood so quietly in the middle of the field. But still, I remember the scary feeling I got when looking at the mansion. Suddenly, I sensed like someone was watching me. I looked through the house, but there was no one. Frightened, I ran inside to the safety of my room. That night I wondered about the people who might have lived in that house. I decided to get to know more about it to quench my curiosity.

After a few days, I got a chance to talk with the milkman, who came to our house early in the morning on a regular basis. He was a kind, old man. During the conversation, I asked him about the mysterious house next to our farm. He looked at me with a huge question mark on his face.

“Little miss, why do you ask about that house? What do you want to know?”

“Is anybody living there?”

“Oh no. There had been nobody living there for a long, long time. People say that it is a haunted house. You better keep away from it.” He had a look of warning on his face which made me frightened. I slowly backed off into my room.

From that day onwards, I thought of staying away from that house. I stopped playing in the back garden and stayed inside the house for a better part of the day. My parents were busy running the farm, so they didn’t notice my changes. But at the same time, I realised a growing desire to explore that house again. I wanted to have a closer look at it. My little mind was filled with a lot of questions, and couldn’t stop thinking about them. “Just one look only”. I told myself. But the milk man’s warning look, with his large eyes, always came in, and I gave in.

That Sunday, I was in front of the hole in the wall. I just wanted to see. “Just one look, and I’m off.” I told myself. A sudden chill ran through my veins. I was looking through the hole. The grand mansion was there with its mysterious, frightening look. I looked carefully at every detail of the house. It was so quiet. Suddenly, I felt someone’s eyes on me. I looked at the windows. It was on the second floor. A face, a woman’s face, was looking at me. I was frightened to death. I felt numb. I closed my eyes for a few seconds. When I opened them, she was gone. I ran like a cheetah straight away into the house, sweating and shivering with fear.

I remember being in my bed. I couldn’t forget those eyes. I still felt like she was looking at me. I might have fallen asleep.

When I woke up, it was evening. The setting sun was brightening the western sky. I was walking towards the small shop near our farm. I was never sent out alone at this time of the day.

But that day, I was all by myself. When I was passing the mansion, I felt that strange chill inside my body again. I decided not to look at it, but I failed. I stopped in front of the rusty, broken gate, looking at the huge building. It was frighteningly quiet. Then I found myself stepping through the gate towards the house. I felt like I was attracted to it by a magnetic power. I went onto the front porch. The wood creaked under my feet when I stepped onto it. I touched the doorknob. It opened, and I was in a large living room. There was no furniture except for an old armchair. There was a staircase to the left side. I climbed it, even though I knew that I should be going home by now. I wanted to run away, but was unable to do it. It was like the house had the power to control me. At the top of the staircase, there was a long passage. I decided to turn left. When I did, I felt those eyes behind me. I turned back, and there she was, wearing a long white frock and a candle in her hand. I was stunned, unable to move. My eyes were ready to pop out from my eye sockets. Then she smiled, showing her blood-smeared teeth. I wanted to scream, but no sound came from my mouth. She was coming towards me. I must run, but I couldn’t move my feet. I stepped back, once, twice. I was in the air, falling from the staircase.

When I opened my eyes, I was on my bed. Mom and Dad both were beside me. I was wet with sweat.

“Honey, what happened? You were screaming, and we got really scared. What happened?”

“She…she… came to bite me… she wanted to kill me…!”

“Who? Who wanted to kill you?”

“How… How did I come here?... I …I … Was in that mystery mansion. There’s a woman there, and she came to kill me!”

“You are in your bed, darling. You didn’t go anywhere, and nobody came to kill you. Now go back to sleep. Mama is here with you.”

Was it a dream, then? No, it wasn’t a dream, I’m sure of it. I don’t know how I went into that house or why I went there. And also, how I came back to my bedroom is still a mystery, but I know what I saw.

Even after fifteen years, I can still see those frightening eyes and the bloody smile when I close my eyes.

“Luckily, I saw a small hole down the fence near the ground. I bent down to sneak-peak through the hole to see what was going on with aunty Monica’s house.”