The New House
Arjun was ten years old when his family moved to a new house on Mango Street. The house was very old. The paint on the walls was a little broken and the wooden floor made creak creak sounds when someone walked on it.
“Wow, this house looks like a place from a ghost movie,” Arjun joked.
His mom laughed. “Don’t start your scary stories already.”
Arjun’s room was on the second floor. It had one big window that looked at a mango tree outside. During the day the house felt normal, but at night it felt very quiet… too quiet.
On the first night, Arjun was trying to sleep. The clock on the wall was ticking.
Tick… tick… tick…
Suddenly he heard a soft sound in the hallway.
Whissssper… whisper…
Arjun sat up in his bed.
“Mom?” he called.
No answer.
He walked slowly to the door and opened it a little. The hallway was dark. The wind from the window was moving the curtains.
“Maybe it’s just the wind,” he told himself.
But when he went back to bed, he still felt like someone was walking in the hallway.
He pulled his blanket up and tried to sleep.
Somewhere in the house, something moved.
creeeaaak…
And the whisper came again.
