The Mystery of the Abandoned House
I was curious about the old dilapidated house on the edge of our street. The house was quite old, made of red bricks and tiled roofs; the growing ivy suggested neglect. I hadn’t seen anyone who entered the building and it always captivated me whenever I walked past it. When I expressed my curiosity to my mother, she explained that it belonged to a retired army general. Apparently, he had left the house under the ownership of his sons before his death, but they hadn’t taken care of the house ever since he vacated it. This it had remained empty ever since.
One day, I got the opportunity to explore the house. Both my parents were busy, and I somehow managed to slip out of the house unnoticed. As soon as I got out, I immediately went to the old house. The front gate was old and rusted, just like the lock. With one single push, the lock clicked open and dropped to the ground. I pushed the gate again, and it opened.
The front porch was littered with dust, weeds, and insects. I managed to dodge the obstacles and rewatched the door. It, too, creaked open as soon as I pushed it. The entire room was dirty and unkept. There was a sofa in the hall, but it looked as if it had been torn and had fallen over. There were several other upturned chairs and tables as well. I explored the rooms above, and each had its own array of peculiar items, strange devices, unknown gadgets, guns, weapons, and several more. Some of the open doors had wired outlines and shadows inside, and it spooked me out. I didn’t dare to enter those rooms. However, after a surprisingly short amount of time, I descended the steps leading to the ground floor, intending to go to the back door and return home that way. Just as I turned the handle of the old wooden door, something, a big great furry ball, lunged at me out of nowhere. It was a cat, a very thin, skinny cat. It whined loudly. At a close glance, I could see that it certainly didn’t look well. It had scratches and wounds all over its body, and I felt sympathy for it at once. I decided to bring it home.
Even though my parents didn’t approve of my exploring the old abandoned house alone, they agreed to take care of the cat. In the following years to come, I grew very fond of Tom (for that was the cat’s name) and even though I decided never to enter that spooky house again, I was glad I did, because if I hadn’t, then Tom would never have become my best friend.
