The Expensive Doll
"Daddy, can I have this one?" Rebecca asked her father, pointing to the baby doll on the shelf. "Honey, I wish I could but Daddy can't afford it right now. I promise you that I will get you a toy though...just...not one as expensive here." He wiped a tear, feeling defeated that he couldn't afford this one. Little did he know that this was in fact the best case scenario as this doll was found in the murder house on Highway 73. They say that spirits walk the earth on All Hallows Eve, and there are some less than friendly spirits wrapped up in that expensive doll.
X7735-1 422X1221 2195/53
A string of numbers engraved with no clear meaning and a strange knitted bunny.
A Chair’s Thoughts on Earth’s Reclaimation
A chair, plastic, man-made, forever. A building, stone, man-refined, relative. Man has excavated, refined, and crafted this building; once abandoned and left without maintenance, it has begun its decomposition. Man has stolen from the earth, and now the earth is taking back what is rightfully hers.
His First Car
Frank was 16 when he got his first car. He knew he could impress Stacy at the school dance with this! He drove to Stacy’s parent’s house, put his car in park, and walked up to the door. He rang the doorbell then straightened his tie when Mrs. Miller opened the door. “You must be Frank.” She smirked. “Stacy is upstairs. Come on in.” Mr. and Mrs. Miller proceeded to interview Frank with question after question before Stacy walked downstairs, stealing everyone’s attention with her beauty. “No later than midnight.” Mr. Miller whispered to Frank. Frank understood; this was their daughter—a special person in their hearts. Luckily, Frank was an honest and respectful kid. He wouldn’t do anything to upset Stacy’s parents that night. Still, many dates later, that beautiful Ford would be a place Stacy and Frank would frequently explore each other. Frank was still a respectful gentleman. He’d always open the door for her, bring her flowers, and give her nothing but courtesy. That was 72 years ago. The memories are still strong, but the Ford is forgotten on the side of the I-74.
The Lost Bunny
Billy awoke to hear his father crying. He didn't know what was wrong, but knew that his father needed consolation. He left his bed and went to the living room. His father sat, hands clasped in his hair. "Daddy?" Billy commiserated. "Billy, hey buddy. I'm ok. Daddy's ok." He knew Billy wouldn't understand what the housing market crash meant, or how it affected them. It was troubling knowing he had to stay strong even though he was losing everything. "We have to leave tomorrow Billy. Pack what you need. You can bring 2 toys with." The next day, as they started out, Billy didn't realize that stuffles, the stuffed bunny his mom gave him before she was lost to cancer, had fallen quietly out of his backpack. The drive to Florida without stuffles would be the hardest drive for either Billy or his father.
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This is a theoretical possibility that I thought up -- something that may or may not have happened; a story based on a photo I took.
The House on Highway 73
"Don't, Jared!" Jeanie cried out. Jared walked in anyway, making a face. He loved spooky things, and what better place than the notorious House on Highway 73
The House on Highway 73 was rumored to be haunted. Old Man Frank used to live here. He was found dead in his chair on the porch, a cigarette still in his fingers.
Minutes passed in silence as both Jared and Jeanie stood looking around, waiting for a sign of other-worldly activity. When nothing happened, Jared quickly yelled "Boo" causing Jeanie to jump in a fright. The second he did so, the front door behind them slammed closed. Their screams filled the night as the ghost of Old Man Frank showed yet another band of teenagers why they shouldn't come into his home.
Frank’s Chair
Frank sat, smoking his cigarettes out on the porch. He watched as the cars on highway 73 drove past. The birds chirped in the trees, and the river behind the house trickled. But now, with the river dried, vines ravaging the house, and Frank buried 6 ft. below, the home is returned peacefully to nature.
This is a theoretical idea -- a story that I created based off a photo I took. What do you think happened here?
Children’s Toy
2008 was a rough year. Jim had plans to build his home for 3 years, but after he spent his entire savings to start building, it was too late to recognize that it cost more than he had. When Jim filed bankruptcy, he and his son packed only what they needed, leaving memories that weren't yet made.--This is a theoretical possibility that I thought up -- something that may or may not have happened; a story based on a photo I took.