It was our first night in the new house.
Well, new-old-house. Jared called it a "fixer-upper." I called it Thirteen-Thirteen Mockingbird Lane. It was big, drafty, and creaked with every step. The wallpaper was faded and torn; the ceiling corners were dusted with cobwebs. The basement was one of those cold, damp, dirt-floor cellars, and it
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Comments 20
UM.
-shudders-
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I was so creeped out for your heroine and was glad that the ending was comparably benign. THIS TIME! HOLY CATS!
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And hee, thanks. I was going for the "Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark" vibe, where pretty much every story ends with "AND THERE WAS NOTHING THERE!" or "AND IT TURNED OUT HE HAD BEEN DEAD ALL ALONG" or whatever.
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