Hello! Before I say anything else, I want to say that this is not a post about The Witches by Roald Dahl, although that is a great book. I should post about that. Anyway, this is actually a post about an original scary story that I have titled “The Witch.” We got an assignment in ELA to write a scary story, and I thought it would be interesting to share the finished product with you. That’s why this post is much longer than normal. I hope you have as much fun reading this as I did writing it.
The Witch
Some people are scared of the dark. I’m scared of what’s in the dark. I’m not talking about the blue furry monsters that are hiding under my bed. They wouldn’t hurt a fly. I’m not talking about the mummy in my closet either. All he does is moan and groan. No, I’m talking about the witch.
She’s not your typical witch. She doesn’t have green skin and striped tights. She could pass for a normal lady, except that she’s flying on a broom. Her raven-black hair whips around in the wind, smacking her pale face. Her dress changes colors from a shimmering cherry red, to a deep royal blue, to a yellow the color of a lemon, and all the colors in between. It’s mesmerizing. Every night, she flies around my house, cackling and telling me I can’t hide forever. You would think that she’d be in jail by now. The only problem with that is that no one else can see her.
One night, I slept over at my friend Tommy’s house. We were up late telling scary stories, and then I saw her. The witch. Flying around cackling, like always. I thought, This is my chance! If Tommy sees her, he can back me up, and we can get her locked up for good!
“Hey Tommy,” I said, interrupting him in the middle of his story. “Do you see that thing outside the window?” If he looked, he would see the witch, and it would be obvious what I was talking about. Tommy looked up, annoyed.
“Dude, I was in the middle of my scary story. Harry was gonna see the ghost and go crazy!”
“Ya, ya, whatever. Do you see that thing outside the window?”
“Um, the crow?”
“No… how can’t you see it? She’s right there.”
“She? I don’t see anyone outside, just some crows and a dead tree.”
“Um, it was just a joke. And you fell for it!” I laughed nervously.
“Seriously dude? You interrupted my story for this?” Tommy, indignant, went back to the story. I pretended to listen, but inside, I was panicking. What would I do if no one else could see her? This was a very real threat, but no one would believe me! I had to think of something.
The next night, I brainstormed. First, I had to figure out why I was the only one that could see her. I tried to show my parents, and all they saw were crows. Maybe she used to live in my house. Maybe she had my desk at school. Why me? Then I realized. She was that witch. The witch from a scary story I had read. I didn’t realize at first because I had buried that story deep in my memory, along with all my other fears. It all came flooding back. She was that one. The one who takes kids and keeps them in her house. She wants company, but no one can be with her long before they turn cold and dark and, sometimes, lifeless.
Now that I knew who she was, I needed to figure out how to expose her. In my favorite scary story, Zombies at Night, there’s a kid who is haunted by zombies. He realizes that no one can see them. So, he sets a trap with the brain of his dog and once the zombies surround it, he coats them with flour, thus exposing them. That sounds like the kind of thing that only works in books and movies, though. I had to think of something else. Then it hit me. I could… no, I was stuck.
Every night before bed, I sat at my desk, a piece of paper in front of me. It was titled “How to Get Rid of The Witch.” There was nothing under the title.
Days passed. Then weeks. Gradually, the witch circled closer. You could barely tell, unless you really thought about it. She was by the telephone pole. Then, a week later, she was on the sidewalk. Then, on my front lawn. I was running out of time.
I ran through my daily routine, but I was never fully there. I spent every spare moment thinking of how to take down the witch. Nothing came. It was like writer’s block, except my life depended on me getting over it.
I read every scary story I could find. I was at the library so much, all the librarians knew me by name. I read everything from Halloween picture books to adult horror novels. No ideas. I fell behind in school. When she got me, it wouldn’t matter. Nothing would matter. I would be gone.
4 days. 3 days. 2 days. 1.
It was time. Tonight, she would be at my window. My best plan was to put a dummy in my bed and hide. I have a killer hiding spot. There’s a false back to my closet, and behind it, there’s just enough space to fit. I’m getting a little big, I could squeeze. I’d have to. It wouldn’t stop her, though. Nothing would. Sunday the 15, I would disappear, never to be heard from again. My family would mourn me, then move on. Nothing lasts forever. I have less than forever. I have hours.
All through the day, I worked on a dummy. We’re one of the few people who still buy flour in those burlap sacks. I usually hate it. Why can’t we just buy bags of flour like normal people? Who would have thought I’d be depending on them to save my life?
At bedtime, I go through my normal routine. Brushing my teeth, picking out clothes for tomorrow. I don’t tell my parents there might not be a tomorrow. For me, anyway. Once they tuck me in, I slip out of bed and put the dummy under my covers. Convincing enough from afar. Then, I hide in the closet. While I wait, I slow down my breath. I have this weird talent where I can slow down my breath so much, you can barely hear it. Inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale. I n h a l e , e x h a l e . I hear tapping at the window. Breath slower. Quieter. I n h a l e , e x h a l e .
She’s coming. The witch. Now or never. Quieter. Quieter. Silent. Now.
She’s at my window. She’s coming in. I locked it, but I never expected it to keep her out. Steel can’t stop her.
She’s in now. Looking at my bed. At the dummy. A small, irrational hope, but a hope all the same. I didn’t know how much it meant until it was gone. She’s looking around the room. Her nostrils flare. Uh-oh. She’s looking at the closet. It’s like she’s looking straight through the wall. She’s closer. Closer. Wait, she’s reaching the upper shelf! That’s where I keep my comic book collection. I’m saved! She must think I’m not here. I can live my life, I can see my friends, even go to school! I’ll have to get my grad- wait, what does she have in her hand? Is that my straightjacket from my magic phase in 4th grade?
“Don’t worry friend. You’re with me now.”
Tell me what you thought in the comments! I was trying to make it scary, but not all blood, guts, and gore. Like I said, this was super fun to write, and I hope it was fun to read. I can’t wait to share more of my original writing!
Nora's Summer Reading 