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Just in my imagination

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Just in my imagination by Cristina Nuta -

When I was a child, we used to spend a month every summer with my grandfather. He lived in a big old house near the coast. It was completely isolated. There was a house nearby, but no one lived there. The nearest village was about ten miles away. It was a terrible place for a holiday. There was no more to play with.

Grandpa lived in an old farmhouse. There was an old stable nearby, but there weren't any horses in it. It was a dangerous and scary place. It used to make creaking noises all the time. I couldn't understand why it did not fall down.

I used to feel frightened when I went near the stable. I always thought that someone was there. I used throw stones through the door and then run away. Once there was a cat in the stable. I hit it with a stone. I got a shock when it made a noise.

One night, I woke up because I heard a noise outside. Someone was knocking at the door. It continued for about a minute. Everyone in the house was asleep and no one heard the noise. I went downstairs and opened the door. I couldn't see anyone. No one was there so I entered the house and wanted to return to my room when I again heard a noise outside. I turned back and went outside. The noise was coming from the stable, the most scaring place for me. I thought there were some thieves there even if there were not too many valuable things they could rob there. I decided to get nearer the stable, in the dark, and carefully watch what was going on inside. I could hear no voices when I was exactly near the window.

There was a little light coming from one bulb which my grandfather had put outside the house to light all the yard. I could not believe my eyes: in the middle of the stable an old man was combing a white beautiful horse. I continued watching inside the stable and I could not understand what I was seeing. My grandpa had no horses there, but I remembered that he once told me his father had many hoses in the stable, and his favourite was a beautiful white horse. The moment the old man turned so that I could see his face, my heart stopped. That was my grand grandfather, who had died many years before.

I ran into the house, terrified. I went in my grandfather's room and told him everything. He went into the stable but there was nobody there. But it could not have been all just in my imagination, because it seemed to be so real.
Just in my imagination written by Cristina Nuta for FamousWhy.com
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Tags: imagination, story, holidays, summer, grandfather, frightening



Category: Entertainment  - ( Entertainment Archive)

Date Added: 18 May '07


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