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Archive for Monday, October 29, 2012

Go!

Scary story contest middle school runner up: Stephanie Reed

October 29, 2012

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I was walking home from school on an unusually dark afternoon, when I felt a pair of eyes staring right at me. I was with all my friends except for Nate. When we got home around 5:30, we turned on the TV, and on the headline of the news it said, “Nate Burnhartt found dead at 5:06 in the ditch of the old amusement park with his throat slashed.”

I was shocked; I wanted to go cry my eyes out. Lilly was freaking out and so was Abigail. Jake was just sitting there, stunned. Then all of our phones rang at once. We checked them, and they each said, “Come to the old amusement park @ 9:00 or someone else is next –N”

“Oh my god,” I say under my breath. “What do we do?” I ask.

Lilly speaks up, saying, “We have to go, Chloe! Maybe we can find out what happened to Nate.”

“There is no way that we can go. He is probably the killer — what if he tries to cut our throats?” Abigail says.

I don’t know what to even think. It’s too much. It seems like Jake isn’t even breathing. “We kind of have to go — if we don’t, someone else is going to die.”

Abigail and Lilly say in unison, “OK, fine.” I pulled Jake along since he was still in shock.

When we get there, the cold wind is blowing my blonde hair all over the place. The crime scene tape was still up where Nate was killed. I start crying again but tell myself to stay strong.

We sneak in through the gate and then walk to the center of the amusement park. Music starts playing and we hear a scream. I start freaking out, and a guy in a clown mask pops out of nowhere with a knife!

In a creepy voice, he says, “I only want Chloe, the others can go!”

I have to go; if I don’t then he will kill them. I say, “OK.”

The others all gasp and say, “NO, you can’t, we’ll go instead!”

“I would rather die than have all of you die.”

I step forward, and he takes me to a room with a really bright light and takes off his mask. “Nate?”

“Don’t talk; it’s time for me to say something for once!”

“I thought you were dead!” I say.

“Well I’m not,” — still in his creepy voice.

“What do you want from me?”

Ignoring my question, he says, “Every day I admired you from a distance, and you acted as if I wasn’t even there. I’ve been in love with you for six years. I faked my own death so you could run away with me. I’m giving you a choice: You can either come with me and fake your death, or I’ll kill you now.”

“I’m not coming with you, Nate.”

He slowly walks toward me with his knife. He touches my face and says, “I love you, Chloe.”

— Stephanie Reed is a seventh-grader at South Middle School.

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