The Haunt of The Victorian Room

I was reading in my basement, when I saw a little beam of light coming from a teeny-weeny sliver between two wooden boards. I ignored it for a while, my book was really interesting, so that helped, but after a while, the light just kept coming to my head, so I had to find out what was happening. I put my book down and went to the beam of light.
I tried to pull open the board a few times but it didn’t budge. “Urgh.” I grunted. Then, after about the 7th or 8th time, the wooden board actually went up. The tips of my fingers were blistered. I sucked on them, too lazy to wipe them. I moved the tile, and found the hole big enough for me to crawl through. I saw a light on, and hesitated a bit before going inside. I pulled my body inside, though it felt more like my body being pulled in. I shuddered, but the feeling quickly disappeared.
I glanced around the room. It was neat and simple. A wooden table and desk, a grandfather clock, a victorian loveseat and a bookshelf. I noticed some unique books on the shelf and went to take a look. The books there were ever-so-strange. I read the titles of a few. Aging Through Sticks, The Secret of Art and a few more. I looked at the printing date of one of the books, and it was 1871!
I was shocked, these books were ever-so-old. That matched with the victorian look of this room. I then heard Mom calling me for dinner and I had to go. I felt the slightest shudder as I exited the small room and headed upstairs.
I was going to tell Mom and Dad the room I had discovered downstairs, but did not. Bringing them into the situation wouldn't be the best idea. Mom would probably tell me to never go down there, or maybe they’d have it removed. It was clear that they hadn’t known about it when they bought our house.
“Mom. When was our house built?” I asked. “Hmm . . I think somewhere around 1860 or so.” Mom said. “It used to be a fine example of Victorian History before we had the main layer rebuilt.” sighed Mom. “You mean the basement was the same since 1860? Like no re-tiling or anything?” I asked. “Yup.” Dad said, butting into the conversation. “So you’re walking on the same floor someone could have been walking on in the late 1800’s.” Dad said, biting into some chicken.
During dinner that night, I made a vow not to ever tell anyone about this room. I thought I heard a small voice saying, “Oh yes you won’t, and I’ll make sure of that”. But I ignored it. I was feeling spooky already, and didn’t want to feel even more spooky. A while after dinner, Mom started acting like a grump. She probably was mad with Dad. That happens sometimes.
To pass time on Mom’s Grumpy Mood, I went to my room and started reading one of my books about Vermont Ghost Legends.

James was a handsome young man, who lived in Vermont during the period of 1854-1875. He died in a small room underground in the Victorian house he resided in. Many say that his mother had suffocated him, as she was in an angry mood that night. Some say that James now haunts all Victorian houses in Vermont, as his death was in one.

After I had read for a while, I was bored. Then I felt a little pull to the little room in the basement. I glanced outside, it wasn’t dark, so it wouldn’t be very scary going down there. I went downstairs to the basement, and saw I had left the wooden board open. Less work for me, I thought. -->
I lowered myself into the hole, and again, as the walk downstairs had been, there was a small pull to the ground. I shuddered as I stepped to the ground. I noticed that I hadn’t sat in the seats before. I tried out the loveseat, and found it very comfortable. I tried to get up, but found it quite hard, like something was keeping me there. I tried again and again, and was starting to panic when I couldn’t get up. I heard a small whisper. “You found this place, and you’re never leaving.”
I then found out I could get out of the seat, then hurriedly tried to rush out of the room. But I found that I could not. I saw the wooden board being raised in the air. I wanted to scream, but I couldn’t. I wanted to so badly. I wanted to scream, “Mom, Dad! I’m being trapped. This room is haunted. HELP!” But I couldn’t scream that. I then remembered my vow during dinner, to never tell anyone about this room, and the voice saying they would make sure of that. My vow was actually taken seriously.
Then I saw the board being opened again. I was screaming in my head, praying to God it was Mom or Dad coming to save me. Maybe they had heard my silent screams. My prayer kind of came true. It was Mom who opened the wooden board, but she didn’t look like she was coming to save me. Her mouth was in a grim, tight line, and she moved like a robot.
As she stepped on the ground, the ghostly spirit shut the board in place. Then it all came to me. James haunting Victorian houses. Our basement still had Victorian architecture. James living in the Victorian era. And his mother suffocating him, and she was in a grumpy mood that night. My mother was in a grumpy mood tonight. And here she was, nearing me. Ready to suffocate me.
As Mom clasped her hand over my mouth and nose, causing me to be unable to breathe, I heard one last sentence before I died. “I died in this room, and you will too.” said a voice. My dizzy head looked up, and saw a familiar figure. It was James. I heard one last cackling laugh before my death.