WHHS Readers and Writers Club

  They turned and hurried back down the steps. Sweat beaded on their forehead and gasps escaped their lungs as they swung the massive wooden door open, throwing themself into the unruly weeds of the forgotten yard. If only I had reacted as quickly as they did. My story began exactly how theirs did. With a mindless dare given by a group of ignorant friends, doing anything they possibly could to make their teenage years less depressing. My town was famous for its outlandish rumors and conspiracy theories, that our conservative airhead parents believed without a second thought. There was one in particular, though, that was more popular among the younger generation, one that could easily be spun into ghost stories for sleepovers. It involved the old abandoned mansion at the edge of town. You know the one. An exterior of rotting wood that became home to the most disturbing of insects, dusty and broken windows boarded up with a considerable lack of care, and an unkempt yard of untamable weed