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About Me:Hello my name is Anastassia Puttnam and I am one of the writers for kings news.I am always smiling and tremendously determined to do anything that is thrown at me. Furthermore people describe me as a quirky character with whacky ideas...that's why I now write these stories. However when I grow up I have always really wanted to be a doctor/heart surgeon, so thats my aim :)
As we followed the moving van up the cobbled drive, the new house gave me an intimidating glare. The windows, traced with moss and the walls layered with ivy. This was only the second time I visited the house. But it looked even more daunting than before. My parents were adamant that this was the perfect house for our family.
"Don't you just love the appearance of it kids?" said Dad with an enthusiastic smile, spread across his face. While my Mum just lifted her head up from the ledge on the window, after awakening from her deep sleep. A groan escaped my siblings mouths in response. Whilst I just stared at my, soon to be, bedroom window. It was on the corner of the house, isolated. Like an afterthought. Not meant to be there. But it was, and it was my new bedroom.
There were boxes, upon boxes stacked on top of each other in the back of the van, but there somehow didn't seem like there was enough things of ours to fill the new house. All five of us stood in a conveyor belt line passing the boxes one by one to each other and onto the doorstep. A little while later, my Dad thumbed around with the door keys to get us inside and as soon as we entered. A cold chill creeped down my spine. He handed us all our boxes with our names on and we made our way upstairs. I took the first steps inside my room, from the ceiling hung one bulb on a piece of wire, and in every corner there were spiders webs. This room looked abandoned. The colour on the walls was a sun bleached white, with the windowsill covered in dirt and dead flies. My younger brother darted up and down the stairs, intaking every part of the house. I watched him for a while and I began to notice how big my bedroom was. Next door to me was an empty room which we were going to turn into an on suite for me, and next to that my younger brothers room, which wasn't as big but was closer to the heart of the house. Then my sisters room was on the next floor above, in the loft conversion. That was going to be my room but something eerie engulfed me as I went into there for the first time, so I chose against it.
A few days passed and i became more settled into the house, my room started to look more and more inviting and the new furniture started to arrive. My Mum and I were moving the old wardrobe out of my room when I saw a gold glint out of my eye. We rapidly continued to move the wardrobe until we reviled a gold door knob. It was cold to touch and the gold seemed like it was made hundreds of years ago. Tentatively I reached out to the handle and twisted it, with the palm of my hand wrapped around the gold. "Be careful!" My Mother exclaimed. The creak of the door was ear shattering. I pushed the door completely open to reveal an intoxicating smell that suffocated me. Instantaneously I grabbed my phone switched on the torch and directed the light into the room. The light revealed hundreds and hundreds of bones piled on top of each other. I screamed. My mum screamed. We ran. Down the hall way, down the stairs and out the door. My Dad, being the brave man he was, went upstairs to investigate. He looked into the room and his eyes widened as he saw what we saw. Then slowly and calmly walked out of the house into the garden to collect his gloves and began to clear the bones.
He really loved this new house...
Months past and I began to investigate the bones that were in the room. I went to the library after school everyday and asked every historian I came across. When eventually I found the answer, in 1732 until 1899 there was a ritual. It was to place all of the bones of the people who had lived here in the past. They would accumilate over time and eventually somebody would find them. That somebody happened to be me. The library became quite suspicious to as why I had suddenly started to attend so often so soon they contacted an ancient antique dealer to let them know what I had been researching. Days turned into weeks and I never really got over the idea that behind that secret door used to lay bones. But nor did the dealer. They never got over the idea.
So one day an older looking gentleman knocked on our door and asked if this was the house with the bones, my mother replied "yes" so he entered. He eventually convinced my Father to sell the our new property to him so he could make the most of this amazing find and investigate the mystery further.
I never had to enter that eerie house again.