Everything seemed just as everything should; the birds were chirping, the trees swaying in the breeze, children happily playing together in the small town of Belam. Fiona was in her Girl Scout uniform; her long blonde hair tied up in a high ponytail, with all her girl scout cookies in her red wagon. Fiona is a small girl, skinny and although she wasn’t popular she had lots of friends. She was about to head out for the yearly cookies sales. Every year the girl scouts all go out and sell as many boxes of girl scout cookies as they can, the girl who sells the most wins a new bike. Fiona has been a Girl Scout since she was 5, she is now 12 and she is the only one in Girl Scout who hadn’t won the cookies sales competition. Fiona is more determined than ever to win.
Fiona had taken the same route every year when selling her cookies, however this year she thought she would do it differently, and maybe she’ll be able to win the bike. Fiona started her route at the other end of town, she never really went to the other side of town but she was willing to try.
When she reached the furthest part of town, she looked up and noticed that there was an old, abandoned looking manor upon a large hill. It was big, old, and had mould almost fully covering it, the trees surrounding it had no leaves, were black, and overall the place looking quiet scary for her.
Fiona decided she’d investigate it, once she was done with the cookie sale. As she went around the far side of town, she asked about the old manor that sits upon the hill. Although people told her about it, they seemed scared to speak of it. This did not make Fiona scared, it mad her more intrigued with it. People were speaking of an old man who lives there; he had lived there with his wife when the town was built, 50 years ago. He is never seen, he stays in his manor, no one goes in no one comes out. 10 years after the town was built the mans’ wife died. The towns’ folk only knew this because her body wrapped up in a sheet, covered in blood rolled down the hill, one afternoon, all those years ago. After about 2 days of cookie selling, Fiona had 2 boxes left however everyone in the town already had some cookies. That’s everyone except the old man in the manor…
If Fiona managed to sell those last 2 boxes of cookies, she would win the bike. And although she was told by her friends not to go up their, she did.
As she neared the manor, she got more and more surprised. The place was beautiful, in a creepy sort of way. There was a gravestone for the lady that once lived there, but all it said was her name and date of birth.
Born 27th of August 1958”
It did not mention, her date of death, or have any other information about her. Fiona thought that was weird, but as she got nearer to the manor, she noticed something else out of the corner of her eye. It looked like more gravestones near the side of the manor so she went to investigate.
Born 17th May 1921”
Born 3rd November 1884”
Born 28th February”
Fiona felt a cold chill down her spine, goose bumps formed all over her arms and legs, and her knees began to shake. But something was urging Fiona to stay there, upon that hill. Then without realizing Fiona began to walk, walk straight towards the front door, and rang the doorbell. A large chime went off, just like it was a bell tower, but it wasn’t. Fiona tried with all her might to run, to go back but she couldn’t. All she could do was stand, wait and wish; that she never wanted to win the bike so much, that she never walked up that hill.
Just as she began to regain movement in her body, the door creaked open, yet no one was there. And yet again Fiona lost control of her movements. She walked straight in, down the hallway, opened a door. And entered a room that looked like a hunting room, she grabbed a newly sharpened knife and walked up to a large leather chair. She could see that top of an old mans head; a bold, short, wrinkled up old man, that looked as though he couldn’t even take his own weight. He was just sitting there, all alone, not reading, not doing anything, just sitting.
Then Fiona heard someone else’s thoughts inside of her head, 4 other people’s thoughts actually. None of them were hers though. The ghost that’s gravestones are outside possessed her. Fiona tried to scream but she couldn’t. Her hand with the knife in it, raised and then both hands grabbed onto the handle and in one quick motion the knife went straight into the old mans skull. Blood splattered everywhere; all over the chair, the walls, the floor, and even all over Fiona.
Fiona froze, holding the knife still in the mans head, blood dripping down his face, she began to cry. But no sound came out of her mouth; no tears ran down her face. Something else ran down her face instead… she was bleeding too. She managed to move a hand out to the top of her head, and right where she stabbed the old man, she too had a large knife mark in her head. Did someone stab her, no; no one else was there. They were all alone, dieing together and the same way; they were stabbed!
Fiona let go of the knife, fell to the floor, and now she was able to cry. She screamed in pain, as blood poured out of her head. All she could think about was, why, why me, what did I do wrong, please don’t let me die; don’t let this be the end! Her whole life did not flash before her eyes, only the past few minutes did. Her seeing the grave stones, walking down the hall, grabbing the knife, stabbing the poor man in the head and then dropping to the ground holding her blooding covered head. It was like an old horror movie, stuck on replay. It just pasted through her head over and over again and she couldn’t do anything. She let out one more tear, and one more terrifying scream. Then nothing…she was dead.
Fiona died at the age of 12, in an old manor after being possessed by 4 ghosts and killing a man.
Her and the old mans body were found a week later, as they both rolled down the hill. No one could tell who Fiona was they didn’t recognize her, not her parents, not anyone. They were later buried in the Belam cemetery.
Even after weeks of Fiona disappearing, no one even thought about her. It was like she was never there…
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