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The Red House

Every neighborhood has a haunted house. Our was red with a sliding glass door. And unlived house that lit up in the night. And one day when I was eight we went in...

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Written May 2002

This was written for an English project in which we had to write the tale of a true event. I got an A on it. (The only things I ever got A's in English on were fiction stories. In fact, I even failed English one year).

I like this though I don't think it's completely true, as things become exagerated in your mind as you get older. In fact, two years after I wrote I ran into Regina for the first time in six years and we got to talking about the "break in" and she told me she didn't go into the house, it was me and Tiffany. But who knows? It was fourteen years ago.

The Story

The Red House