As I crept into the house, I froze. It wasnít exactly my sort of thing; going into the haunted house of Linda Zopple, the lady that went crazy after her husband's death. Nobody knows what actually happened . . . am I suppose to figure it out?! Hello, there are better detectives than me!
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Going down the long, echoing hall I thought to myself, Why donít I just run out there and make up something? Oh, one problem . . . would they believe me?
I inched into the kitchen. Why did I just hear footsteps? Ew, why is there blood all over the place, and a knife on the kitchen counter?!
I picked up the knife and carried it for protection. I put down my backpack.
Then . . . someone jumped out from the doorway!
I sighed with annoyance. "Mom canít you be serious just this once?" I whined. "Me and Megan are filming a horror scene,"
"Excuse me," said my mom.
"What?" I asked.
"It's 'Megan and I', not 'me and Megan',"she claimed.
I rolled my eyes. "Whatever. Just, please get out, and let us finish the horror scene."
"Fine. Oh, and I had a good idea cutting up those blood oranges, huh?" she said, a tiny "mom" smirk covering her face.
"Whatever Mom," I replied. "I thought of it, not you. Can you just get out?"
My mom gave me the evil punishment glare, and went out of the room.
So I went out of the kitchen, and I was following two footsteps down the hall . . . And there it was; the coffin. Now all I had to do was peek inside the coffin, and run out of there on the count of three.
One, two, three. I carefully opened the coffin. You could hear the creaking.
Suddenly my annoying little brother jumped out in his vampire costume. I acted all cool.
Mark started laughing hysterically. " Oh I got you so bad!" he exclaimed. "You should have seen your faces. Jessica almost jumped out of her shoes!"
"I did not," I said indignantly. I began to feel very frustrated; did everyone want to ruin not just my life, but my movie?
Mark smiled annoyingly at me. "Mom said you have to take me trick-or-treating." he said.
I groaned inwardly. "Arenít you a little old for that?" I snapped.
"Iím only 12." he retorted.
"Yeah, and you act like you're 9," I mumbled, as a little joke to myself. "Anyway, I have a party to go to."
"Thatís not what mom said." Mark sneered.
Storming off, I went off to find my mother. I went to every room, and finally I saw her on the lawn puttingup Halloween decorations.
"Mom?" I called to her. "I am going to Saraís party . . . right?" I asked nervously.
"Not after the way you acted to me," my mom said. "Also, Megan, you have to go home."
My mouth opened in shock. "No way, Mom! You said I could go! And, I already told Sara that I was going." I moaned as my mom glared at me. I turned to my friend and muttered bitterly, "Bye Megan, I guess I wonít be seeing you until Monday. Also tell Sara why I canít make it."
I then stormed to my brothers room, a plan devising in my mind. "Did I mention how scary you look?" I said with wide eyes as I came in.
He frowned at me. "What do you want?" he asked, interested.
"Can I please go to the party?" I pleaded. "You can go trick-or-treating by yourself."
Mark raised his eyebrows. "For what?"
"For your big sister." I smiled sweetly. "Please?"
He looked at me stupidly.
"Okay, okay," I sighed. "You can have the computer whenever you want it . . . for a week."
"Make it two weeks." he haggled.
"Not on your life." I smirked. "How about . . . um, I buy you a bag of skittles?"
"Settled." Mark smiled.
Ha-ha! That little sucker! I was going on my school trip next week, so I wouldn't even be here. It's perfect, then. Iím going to the party, and he gets what he wants . . . old skittles and the computer.