Wednesday, August 3, 2011

Short Story ? The Haunted Mansion

My name is Seeta. I do not like it, but what can I do? I'm not good in studies. I am 14 years old, still fourth in the class. My parents living in our village school, tells me always to study. I'm going to read, even if nothing goes in my head. On the other hand, I want to help in the kitchen, my mother's work, and sweeps and wipes our little house.

Our house is located in a remote village, far away from the road. A bus, only two of the layers in the city, a walk, we must goseveral kilometers. Our neighbors are the working poor that depend on daily wages. There is an old abandoned house next to us. I'm afraid to go there during the day. The land belongs to the house extends to the river where we go for our daily bath.

One day we saw the old, to come here and sit on the porch of the old house. I went there, curious to know the stranger. He asked me about the place and then brought to see the flow. He seemed very happy to bethere because he was there for a long time, until I reminded him of the evening very close. It gave me to eat something tasty, I'd never seen before. When we returned, a man who was waiting for him. They came back and I forgot him.

After a month or so is back with his goods, very little, just enough for cooking and an extensive collection of books, all well maintained and in English. The men who accompanied him back and he was all alone! I trembledThe idea of ??sleeping alone in this haunted house, and when I told him about it, laughed out loud. He has only occupied the upper floor a large room, asked the wall shelf full of books.

The next morning when I went to him, he was trying to sweep the room. When she's clumsy action, I grabbed the broom and swept in a few minutes. He said something in English. I shook my head. It has become a routine for me. One day I gave him some special dish that we have at home, even if its cooked riceon a kerosene stove. Slowly we became friends, even if my parents liked. I did not like the old. Why is it here all alone? He has a family?

When I asked these questions, he was silent, is a veil of sadness on her face. I felt sorry for him. One day a young woman wear saris, and expensive diamond necklace, came to visit him at noon, but left before the night and said he fears the house. They say it was his daughter. I could not believe it.How can you leave the father in his old age, in one place? I could not understand.

Months passed. We all went to a wedding in my mother's house, far away to visit one of our village. We had to take the train for two days to travel. When we came back after a month or so, because it was vacation time, the house was locked from inside and there was no answer when we screamed and pelted with stones. My parents have informed the police. If the house was breaking up the door, the body wasfound in a decaying state.

I was suddenly dizzy. Later I was told that the old house and property had been lacs in my name, including a bank account for a few rupees.

Source: http://arts-short-fiction.chailit.com/short-story-the-haunted-mansion.html

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