I always hated moving, not so much for the distancing of people you once knew but more for the work that had to be done pre-move. That’s probably the reason I keep my wardrobe low; less hassle. All I ever really needed to keep me company was my trusty sketchbook. I’m an artist you see, or at least I’d like to be; that’s why I sketch anything I see worth putting pencil to paper.
As the day dawned, I’m awakened by my all too eager to move dad. Oh please stop shoving and just let me get some more sleep, I’m thinking.
“Chester! Chester!” my dad calls. ” I wanna show you the house, we’ll be staying in”
“So long as you let me sleep in tomorrow” I murmur.
We arrive at the house, and boy is it old. It resembles those cartoon witch houses I used to watch when I was younger. Old front gate, old fence, old roof, old doors and windows; with of course dead trees in the yard. No wonder we’ll be staying here.
After helping unload a couple of things I figured I would catch up on that sleep I had robbed from me. I found a comfortable spot on the dry grass out back to lay on and hit the snooze. Boy is it cold out here i thought.
I woke up just in time for dinner. Dinner with a single father isn’t always the best; I was expecting some ramen noodles at best. What a way to feed a 14-year-old kid. I went into the old house, the boards creaking with every step I took. I came into the old kitchen to see nothing prepared, but Dad had left a note.
“Emergency meeting at the new office. Have to make a good impression right. Love, Dad”
Ramen noodles for me tonight, yum yum….not really.
I know I should get early sleep tonight but I wasn’t feeling it. Darn nap I took earlier. I decided I would check out the house, maybe I’ll find something nice to sketch.
As I searched room by empty room, I wasn’t finding anything worth sketching. I passed the bathroom and saw it had been stocked already by my dad. I saw a bag of cough drops in there; remembering the cold my dad had caught when we had gone fishing recently. What’s this? Oh a basement how cool.
I worked my way down the steps that lead down into the basement. I looked around but couldn’t quite distinguish anything down there. I felt around for a switch. Found one! I flicked the switch on. To my shock there was a coffin down here. It looks just as old as the house, with its layer of dust. I decided this was worth sketching, and proceeded to draw it. This is coming out pretty good, I thought. I heard a tap….tap, there it was again. Tap, Tap. Where is the sound coming from? Tap, Tap. That’s not in my head I heard that one. Tap, Tap. That last one was louder. Tap, Tap. Oh my, is that coming from the coffin…Tap, Tap. I inched closer to the coffin. Tap, Tap. That’s definitely the coffin. I’m just going to walk away.
I’m slowly going up the stairs and I peek back. Wait that coffin is closer. I turn away. Take another step, and turn back towards the coffin. Yes it has moved. I start stepping again and this time the coffin is sliding towards me, not so subtle anymore. It can’t make it up the stairs, I think to myself as I reach the top of the stairs. Sure enough the coffin is now sliding up the stairs. I run to the bathroom, and lock myself in. I’m breathing really fast now, pulse pounding. What’s that…a knock on the bathroom door. It can’t be. It’s not a knock, more of a thump. Thump. Just go away.
Thump. The knocking won’t subside. Crack. Oh no, the door is breaking…Crack! The door swings open! The coffin starts sliding towards me very slowly. In a panic I start throwing things at the coffin. I grab toothbrushes, toothpaste, my dads razor, rolls of toilet paper, the bag of cough drops, and the coffin stops. Oh thank goodness I think, feeling relieved.
Do you know why the coffin suddenly stopped? Well that is because cough drops stop the “coughin”.