Marcie stood there motionless watching the ball bounce further and further away from her, slowly transforming into a slow roll and finishing with a quiet thump against the old brown fence at the bottom of the alley. She couldn't tell you how many times her parents had told her to stay away from there, but the ball was just calling for her to go grab it, almost calling to be saved. The alley came off the main road of the small town of Poston, Drew Lane, and ever since 1873 when the first kid dissapeared down there it had remained desolate. Old stories, that almost became traditions were passed through the generations of the very few survivors that had once visited the alley for a shortcut or for whatever means, and the many memories of those that never got out.
The ball was now totally still, it's multi-colours contrasting against the dark alley sticking out like a sore thumb, thinking about it the ball was only a few metres away, at a sprint she could be out safely with the ball within about 10 seconds. The ancient fences looked as if they were about to crumple with a touch, grass and weeds growing in every crack they could find in the path, a few cans ran along the sides of the fences where teenagers would come and throw there rubbish in the hope to lure whatever was in the alley - out. Nobody walked down the alley, so nobody looked after it.
Poston was a small town, an old village surrounded by the beautiful green countryside, cut off from the rest of the world. The old village shops ran down the main road, Drew Lane, sitting neatly in there perfect places, on the corner of the alley sat what used to be a coffee shop - ran out of business in 1873 after the first kid dissapeared, belonged to an old woman called Miss Tara Hamper she lived two doors down from Marcie. Poston school was about 3 minutes from Drew Lane, placed right next to the village church, further down the road to the left was the park, a couple more newsagents and the local doctors, further down the road to the right was the oldest houses in the village and the local library. Marcie didn't know any futher then that. If you followed Drew Lane all the way up to the top of the hill you would come to the small woods which a small river ran through, if you stood on top of that hill it was said to be the most beautiful sight in the world. Poston was a key village for visitors and when in good weather there were even a few tourists, but no matter where they came from or how long they've been there, somehow everyone knew - don't go down the alley.
"I think we should just leave it" Polly whispered taking Marcies arm and pulling her away.
"I don't! That's my ball that is, got it for my birthday from my gran!" Jack with his hands on his hips glared at Polly through his rectangular glasses.
"I think Polly might be right, you know the stories, it's not safe down there" Stephanie stood shaking her head, walking slowly towards Marcie.
"You're all such girls! Stop being a wimp... I want my ball back!" Jack stood his back to the alley staring at everyone angrily.
"I'll buy you another ball Jack, come on lets just leave it" Ciara attempted to grab Jacks arm who spun away quickly, nearly falling off his feet. Ciara was Marcies best friend and after dragging her out unwillingly earlier, she knew that if anything happened to Marcie, the guilt would be on her.
"Whatever you three say, i'm going in there and i'm getting my ball, Marcie are you with me?" Jack turned his glare on to Marcie who was silently staring down the alley.
After a few moments complentation, she shook her head. If whatever down the alley didn't get her first, her mum would kill her.
"Fine then! You all need to grow up your such babies" Turning around and taking his first step into the alley, Jack hesitated as his foot hit the floor. They stood watching montionless as he drew closer and closer to the end of the alley, with every step he took it seemed to get darker and darker, picking up the ball and spinning around he cried -
"See I told you it wasn't haunted" There was barely enough time to smile before an ear-piercing scream broke into the air and within a blink - Jack was gone.
As a child when a problem occurs or you need to get something of your chest, then the first person you go to is - your mum. Just one of those people who will love you no matter how much wrong you commit, who will listen to you no matter how boring you are and most importantly who will care for you in your darkest hour. Ironic really; Marcie may as well have been invisible to her mother.