Once Upon A Story

Sunday was a cold winter night, the snow cloaking Wycliffe in white. The hopeful December brought joy and illustrated the town with colours, and houses were illuminated with the radiant fairy lights and the candles, while silver bells could be heard everywhere. The whole of Rue de Rouge was glowing with happiness. The crunching of heavy boots on snow , the joyful laughter of children sliding down a hill, the warming scent of the steaming mug of hot cocoa...Wycliffe seemed to be in favour of the angels.  Round the corner, Mr and Mrs Davidson walked with their nieces - Madelaine and Annelise, returning from the church. Annelise walked with her crutch, and holding her sisters hand." There's rock in front of you, Maddie." She whispered. " Good evening, Mr Thompson !" Annelise called out to the man smoking a pipe, near them. They walked up to an oak door, and brushed their feet against the "Welcome" rug before they entered. The sturdy brick house had white ...

It was a cold winter night in Wycliffe, and two little girls were in bed, talking in hushed tones. "Agatha, oh how boring you are." Agnes muttered as she rolled over to her side of the bed, not at all interested in Agatha's book. "What's a book without pictures, and limericks ?" She groaned as she lined up her teddies and her porcelain dolls. Agatha scoffed."You stay with your dollies, Ness. "  Suddenly, the silent mansion came to life, interrupting their conversation. Thud ..thud.. .thud. A series of footsteps followed the gong of the grandfather clock in their room. "Agatha, did you hear that?" murmured Agnes, as she clutched her teddy. Agatha put her finger to her lips. "Perhaps it's Mama, coming to check if we're asleep. Keep shut, and pretend to be asleep." But the footsteps continued. Thud.. thud.. thud. They heard it going up the staircase, through the corridor, and up to their room, where it disappeared. "Ag...

  Two years had passed since Amelia Hawthorne was reported missing. The Hawthorne family had completely fallen apart since then, some even say they dispersed to North Carolina and so. Now, the 9th house at the end of Burke Street seemed haunted by the two lonely souls. Only Mrs Hawthorne and her mother lived there now, in dire hope of Amelia's return. Mrs Hawthorne had supposedly pawed at and persuaded the local sheriffs and policemen to continue her search for a whole year, which was extraordinary because police searches were hardly three months long. You'd wonder why I'm telling you this, and I'll tell you why. Two years after the horrible incident, her body was discovered at the bottom of the Beecher lake, grossly bloody, wearing the same dress she had worn when she had gone missing. It was in fact very strange because steamboats would pass Kirsten Lake everyday, and fishing was a regular sport practised in Rosewood, but never had the reports of dead body been found....