February is soon to leave our history for this year, and Spring is just around the corner. It’s the perfect time for Part 2 of our story, A Dark And Stormy Night. Enjoy!
A Dark And Stormy Night
By Charlene Elder
Part 2 continues: As you’ll recall, we left our main character and her pets in the basement during the storm with the candles only having a few more minutes until they’d burn out…
Oscar jumped in my lap and licked my face. He didn’t act scared. The birds had calmed down, too. Didn’t they know what was happening in our house?
Rain continued pelting the window. I could hear the eerie winds blowing outside. Another clap of thunder.
This time Oscar’s ears perked up and he growled but was content to lie in my lap. I can’t call anyone for help. There’s no phone service with the storm going through. Emilio’s songs were getting slower and slower, and I realized the batteries would not continue much longer. The candles had a few more minutes and they’d burn out, too.
“Okay, guys,” I whispered to the animals. “I’ve got to find out what’s going on upstairs. Oscar, you come with me.”
I grabbed the only thing I could find that could possibly threaten someone—an old broken tennis racket. I was armed and ready.
The flickering candle I left on the bottom stair barely gave me any light. Oscar stayed several steps behind me as I shuffled the tennis racket from hand to hand in front of me while I crept up the stairs. Slowly I opened the door.
I jumped and nearly lost my footing. My heart raced. Then I realized I had stepped on the one board that had been loose and squeaky for years. Quickly recovering I held the tennis racket in front of me as I turned the corner, heading into the living room.
There was no cave in and the house hadn’t been demolished by the storm. I sighed in relief. As far as I could see in the dismal light, everything was where I’d left it. Must have been a tree that went down.
The candle on the basement stair went out. Then I heard it again.
I slowly turned to the right but stepped on something squishy. I tried to muffle a scream. The tennis racket flew through the air and Oscar yelped when it hit his tail. I jumped.
With all the strength I could muster at that point I cautiously peered around the corner into the living room, and then I heard it again.
Another scream, but this time the scream was mine.
Oscar looked at me, his ears up, his head cocked to the side as if to say “what’s going on?”
I started laughing when I realized that the TV had come back on, and the station was playing one of Alfred Hitchcock’s suspenseful thrillers. I picked up the remote that had fallen on the floor when all this excitement had started.
“Oh, Oscar,” I bend down, hugged him, and laughed. “A scary movie on a stormy night. It’s April 1st, and the joke’s definitely been on me.”
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