Winner of Spooky Story Contest
Through the mist
by Michaela Coombs
Coming home one fall night
The cold as crisp as an apple.
I did not take any notice of it,
After all this was nothing new to grapple.
It had rained this morning this I knew
For the grass was wet with morning dew.
But when I dared go outside,
There was nothing to be seen.
For the mist went on for miles.
traversing up a hill
By a creaking tree
That I can barely make out still.
Too far away too far ahead
I felt a sense of impending dread
For I remember something similar.
An old sailors tale of sounds of wailing
And never again would they go sailing.
The voice increased in velocity
A great choir a voracious cacophony
I ran as fast as my feet dare tread.
Past the tree
Down to my house,
To where a comfortable bed will be.
The last thing that I remember
Was that I had fallen and had surrendered.
Opening my eyes I heard no sounds.
But rather a light knocking on my door
Aunt Sally May came by to say
“Do not drift too far away.
home is safer and home you shall stay”
I never heard that siren again
But let me say one thing
I do believe
That terrible eve
When the mist takes us all one day.