I live in a haunted house. There’s a big spider in the attic, a king with a castle made

of Christmas decorations and old family photographs. In the nights I can hear him

scuttering around on his long, hairy legs and I hope he won’t mistake me for a fly or

a dustball. Then there’s the troll in the washing machine, who steals all my left socks.

I think he will use them to build a parachute so he can fly far, far away from here…

I live in a haunted house. Sometimes I hear ghosts scream in the night outside my

window, flashing red and blue. And there’s a little ghost dog who eats my homework,

but the teacher doesn’t believe me. I think the teacher is a ghost too, and that there’s

a grand conspiracy of ghouls going on.

I live in a haunted house. It’s not so bad, except for the Shadow. The Shadow, well

I’m not sure what it is, but it lives in mom’s bedroom. That’s why the lights are always

off. The Shadow makes mom sad, and she has to hide under the blankets. I wish I

could fight the Shadow, but I’m too scared. I think my mom is scared too, even

though she is an adult.

I live in a haunted house, and sometimes it follows me. Out of the corner of my eye,

shadows rise like billowing smoke. A cold dread creeps over me. Go away! At night

the darkness beckons, curls its fingers around the doorframe. Leave us alone! But

the night is quiet. A mermaid weeps softly in the next room