Mary Ann read the words allowed as she and her three friends stood on the sidewalk outside the abandoned, dilapidated Cape Cod.
“So, the old witch finally died,” Sammy said. At thirteen, he was the oldest of the group.
Sarah crossed her arms. “Oh posh, Sammy. She was just an old lady. Weirdly reclusive and totally mean to anyone who walked by, but still just an old lady.”
“Yeah, but she’s been around forever. I mean, at least as long as we’ve all been alive.” Thomas scratched a hand through his shaggy brown hair.
“We’ve only been alive for twelve years, Tommy. That’s not forever.” Mary Ann pushed her glasses up her nose.
“Well, I’m going in.” Sammy walked around the side of the house as the rest of the group sprinted to catch up.
“But—” Sarah whisper-yelled as she glanced around for nosy neighbors.
“You can’t just—” Mary Ann pled in a high-pitched voice.
Thomas just laughed. At five feet ten inches, he was the thinnest and tallest in their class, always ready for an adventure.
“Sam!” Mary Ann begged. “Would you just—”
“Too late,” Sammy sing-songed.
He jiggled the latch on the backdoor and it swung open. Amid protests from the girls, the four slipped inside the dark house.
“Whoa,” Sammy said. “This place hasn’t been dusted in a while. Gross.” He dragged a finger along a tabletop and cringed.
Sarah huffed. “Be nice, Sam. She was super old. Like, a hundred or something.”
“Yeah, and she was also a witch, remember?” Thomas gave her wink and laughed.
“Doesn’t look like a witch lived here,” Mary Ann said. “This place looks normal.”
“Normal?” Sammy held up a bowl filled with animal bones. “Does this look like something in your house?” Continue reading