The Books that Never made it

Hung

“Dude, this is so creepy,” I said as I watched Trent push another spider web out of his face.

Trent looked over to me with sly grin. “You scared?”

I waved my head. “Nah, this is fine, I can do this no sweat.” I jumped and gasped in surprise as a glass jar fell to the floor and exploded into tiny shards. I looked over to Trent who sighed and shook his head. “Oh yeah,” he said. “You could really live here.”

Going into a haunted house? What a stupid idea; all because I wanted to show Trent, my crush for as long as I can remember, how not scared I was of a supposed haunted house. Yeah sure he and I have been friends since elementary school and he barely had time to hang out with me, being the captain of the football team and all, but did he really have to make up that time by taking me to a haunted house where it’s known for hanging its victims? I mean, sure I kinda liked him—okay I’ve liked him since we were wearing bibs, but he knew I tried to act tough whenever we’d do something like this.

          “C’mon Clairedy-cat,” he called from the stairs.

I glared at him and reached for the rail that was covered in spider webs. “I’m not going up those stairs; they’re older than my grandmother!”

He smirked at me. “Fine,” he said. “I’ll go up.”

          “Trent, wait!” I said as the stairs creaked threateningly underneath him. He turned around smirking, opening his mouth about to say something, but he got nothing out as the stairs hissed and suddenly caved in, swallowing Trent whole.

          “Trent!” I screamed running over to him through the dust cloud. Pushing back the debris and tossing my flashlight aside I yanked him out. “You okay?” I said.

He nodded with a weak smile, dusting the dirt and debris off of himself. “Yeah, just fine.”

Suddenly footsteps echoed from behind, hollow and slow. The hair rose on my neck as a cold breeze wafted past.

          “W-hat was that?” Trent said looking over my shoulder with wide eyes. Fear, an emotion I hardly saw on his face.

I shrugged my shoulders and looked back to him smirking. “You scared?”

He just glared at me.

          “C’mon, let’s get outta here. Can you walk?” I asked.

He shook his head. “I think my leg’s broken.”

I cringed at the thought of pulling back his pant leg and finding bone sticking out from his flesh. “Okay, well try to stand and I’ll help you to the door.”

With a grunt he lifted himself onto his somewhat steady right leg and leaned against me as he hopped towards the door.

          “Lean on to the wall until I can get the door open,” I said moving him over to the wall and wrapped my fingers around the cold doorknob.

As I worked the doorknob, I couldn’t help but feel another cold draft climb up on to my skin. I cringed and reefed on the doorknob harder.

          “Your such a—” Trent started before he went silent.

I smirked and yanked harder leaning my whole weight back. “I’m such a what, Trent?” I said kicking at the door. “Damn, it won’t open.”

Still, Trent was silent.

I frowned. It wasn’t like him to stay silent for more than five minutes. I turned around. “Trent?” I said. Goose bumps rose on my arms as I turned around to only see feet dangling. Swallowing, I looked further up to see Trent dangling like a Christmas ornament from the ceiling with an old dusty rope that was slung tightly around his neck. His neck was posed at an awkward angle and his face was blue. His eyes stared lifelessly out into thin air and his mouth was open in a silent cry.

I let out a scream that hurt my throat and grabbed at my hair, staring at Trent as he swayed side to side, hung.