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Rated: E · Fiction · Ghost · #1895852
A teenager ignores a No Tresspassing sign and enters an old house. She wishes she hadn't.
The Padlocked

Treasure Chest

I sneaked into the old abandoned house at the end of the street. There was clearly a sign at the front door that said, “NO TRESPASSING.” As I wandered through the downstairs rooms, I went up the creaky stairway and wandered into a room. I was surprised to find a small padlocked treasure chest on a dresser in one of the bedrooms. There was a note that said, “Do not open, EVER.” I also noticed a small key hanging on the wall. I tried the key in the padlock. It was a perfect fit.

I was alone in the abandoned house. What if I turned the key in the lock and just took a peek inside. No one would know, and I could lock it back up and leave the room. It would only take a minute. What would it hurt? What could the treasure chest contain that was so bad or so frightening. How could it hurt me?

As I stood there alone in the room, I heard a noise. It spooked me, and I jumped nearly out of my skin. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of something that moved swiftly across the room. My heart pounded. I thought it was a ghost and that maybe this old house was haunted. This was the wrong place to be. Just then a couple of mice raced across the floor. Scared of mice, I wanted to jump up on a chair, but there was none in the room. There was only the dresser and an old metal bed. My feet seemed frozen to the floor. I couldn’t move. How could I get out of here? I had to get control of my fears and move on out the door, but what about the treasure chest and the key. I touched the box again and decided to take the key out and return it to the wall. When I touched the antique chest, my fingers felt very cold as if I had placed them in a bowl of ice. I quickly removed my fingers. It was a warm day outside and warm in this room. Perspiration ran down my forehead. Why, I asked myself, did my fingers feel as if they were frozen. What strange powers were contained in this box? Was a ghost in the room controlling the temperature of the box?

I did not have the answers. I should get out of here before I got answers. Answers that I didn’t like and didn’t want.

The key was still in the lock and I was scared to pull it out. What if the box blew up when the key was removed? What if…

I got up the nerve to touch the key but did not have the nerve to pull it out when all of a sudden a bird flew into the window and past my head. It unnerved me and I jerked my hand away. All of a sudden, I looked at the box and a tiny bit of smoke came out of the keyhole. Alarmed by this, I couldn’t move. What if, because of me, the old house caught on fire and burned down. What if the presumed presence of a ghost followed me out of the house and continued to follow me home? What a pickle I had gotten myself into.

Why I didn’t turn and run out of the house, I will never know. I just had a pull toward that old treasure chest. I couldn’t imagine what could possibly be in it. Maybe it contained some diamonds or gold or an heirloom ring of some sort. Maybe the previous owner just didn’t want anyone to steal their treasure. Maybe it was a folded paper confessing to a terrible crime happening long ago.

I was getting more confused than ever. I wanted to open the box in the worst way. I was pulled like a magnet toward the key once again. “I am going to open this box if it kills me,” I said to myself. “I always let people and things scare me.”

Once again I placed my hand on the key and and turned it. With two hands, I opened the treasure chest. A puff of smoke rolled out toward me. A tiny skull popped up and said, “I gotcha’. I gotcha’ now.” The sound activated voice continued with “Ha, Ha, Ha, I gotcha’ now.”

I shuddered. Why did I have to go ahead and open the box. I tried to shrug it off and say, “The devil made me do it,” but I couldn’t. I had deliberately stood there, feeling the pull of the temptation and I had made the decision to turn the key. I regretted having come into the abandoned house in the first place and exploring where I had no business. I would have to take the consequences of my actions. I cried out, “Oh, if I hadn’t done this. Oh, if I hadn’t stayed here in this room.”

I looked at the skull and just then it spoke again. “Didn’t the note say, ‘Don’t open the box EVER?’”

“Yes,” I said to myself. “Was I actually talking to the mysterious skull?”

Just then I heard someone coming up the old, creaky stairway. It sounded like a giant heavy work boots.

“What do I do now?” I shuddered. “I’m doomed now. Maybe this is my punishment for trespassing.” Maybe…

“Oh how I wish I had minded my own business,” I said under my breath.

“The footsteps stopped at the landing. There was silence. There was no place for me to run or to hide.”

I heard a voice. It was a man speaking. “Had enough, Missy? When are you ever going to learn your lesson? Didn’t you see the sign on the front of the house that said, ‘NO TRESPASSING’?”

“Who are you?” I managed to get out. “Who is there?”

The footsteps sounded louder and louder. Just then the “giant” stepped into the room and faced me.

“Scared to death,“ I turned and faced him. To my surprise it was old Mr. Garrett.

“Missy, don’t your parents teach you anything? Don’t they tell you that it is wrong to trespass on another person’s property?” he said gruffly.

“Yes,” I said hanging my head ashamed of myself. “Yes, they have taught me better,” I said.

Touching the box and locking it up again, he placed the key on the hook on the wall. “Now, Missy, don’t you think it is time for you to go home?” he asked me.

“Yes, Mr. Garrett, I’m sorry I entered the house when the sign said, ‘No trespassing.’”

“Well, make sure you don’t,” Mr. Garrett said.

“I will never do it again,” I said.

That day I learned a priceless lesson. I would start to take posted rules seriously. My fear lifting, I walked out of the room and started to walk quickly down the creaky stairs. Walking out the front door, I was free. It was dark by now, but breathing in the crisp autumn air, my steps quickly carried me along the sidewalk to home where I was safe.

“I’m home, Mom and Dad.” I never breathed a word about my adventure to them. I hoped that Mr. Garrett didn’t either.





© Copyright 2012 Skip Duncan (mapleaf at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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