Twelfth Night
It was the eleventh night of the twelfth month an there was just one more night until we moved away from everything, my friends, my Nan, my school. I didn’t want to move. I was going from getting the train to the match every Saturday, to staying in and watching it on the TV. It was like I was moving but leaving my life behind. I`d already been in the new house when we went on our summer holiday to London. It looked ancient. Brown dusty window frames, stained white walls that had turned yellow with piles of moss growing on the outside but the inside wasn’t much better. Torn up carpets, broken door handles, the wallpaper in the bathroom was all ripped and coming of the wall. I hated it.
That night I was fiddling with my phone and all of a sudden I got a message, “Beware of the house” I knew who it was it was. It was Liam, my best friend, the joker, the most hilarious boy I knew. Thinking it was Liam I rang the number back, “Beware of the house? Really?” There was no answer. “Liam answer me.” All I could hear was heavy breathing and then all of a sudden, BANG! Then like a flash, the phone hung up. I didn’t think anything of it and got changed and lay in my bed until I drifted off to sleep.
The day was eventually here. The day were my life was to change forever. My things where packed in four giant bags, two for my clothes, one for the things in my bedroom and one full of my new school books. All the bags where in the boot of the car and the journey to London was just about to start. I took my last look of the house I`d lived in all my life, the one I`d had so many memories in. It looked different. The walls where bare and the rooms empty. I stepped out and slowly walked into the car. I watched my Dad turn the key. He placed it underneath the doormat and the house I loved so much was no longer ours.
Our endless journey to London had begun. We were the only car on the road. It was like everyone else had decided to stay home just because we were driving. It was coming up to 6 hours in the car and we weren’t anywhere near half way. “You excited?” asked my Mum. “Yeah!”My sister and I both said sarcastically. “Don`t be like that!” exclaimed my Dad.
After torturous hours of driving we finally arrived at the house of horror. The brown crooked windows looked even older as did the stained walls that were looking like they were going to collapse. I didn’t want to go in. I didn’t want to face the fact that the house was ours. I was hoping it was a dream, I was hoping my mum would walk in to my real room, the room I`d slept in all my life, and whisper, “time to wake up now”. That didn`t happen. We walked in and the twelfth night of December began.
It had just struck me what had happened the night before, what about if it wasn’t Liam and something or someone was trying to tell me something? I went upstairs to look at my new room. As I was walking up the whiny stair case my left leg suddenly fell through the second to last stair. The twelfth stair. I couldn’t move, not because I was stuck, because I was terrified, paralyzed from head to toe. “Are you okay?” my Mum shouted from the living room. I quickly shot up, ran into my room and slammed the door shut. I didn’t answer my Mum, I knew how much she loved the house, and I didn’t want to spoil how delighted she was.
I`d been in my room for hours, whimpering to myself. I had nothing hear, no friends, no family, everything was back at home. I hadn’t really looked at my room yet. My head was always in my hands. I looked in my bedside cabinet, where I found a box, a red velvet box with the word ‘dozen’ on the side. On the other side there was a key. I took the key and unlocked the box. Inside was a glimmering, razor sharp, knife. I held it in my hands. I was in shock. Every time I picked it up I`d feel like I had all the power in the world, like I was invincible. I looked at the velvet box again. Inside there was an old yellow piece of paper. It read; Whoever is to pick up this knife is to kill one of their own family, if not done so on the twelfth night of the twelfth month, they will themselves be found dead at midnight...
With 3 hours left until midnight I sat nervously in my new freezing room. What if this isn’t true? What if I kill someone not knowing if I really have to? I`d rather be dead myself than someone I love be. Why did we come here? If only we knew the place we now called home, was a death trap. All of a sudden I felt like I had to do something about it. I put on my giant winter coat, grabbed the knife and the velvet box, and then headed for the door. As I was putting my shoes on then I hear “Where are you going, love?” “Out, Mum.” “But where? “ The door was already shut before she could finish her sentence.
I stood still in a cold and lonely street. The police station was there. A young man in his twenty’s walked up to me just as I was about to walk in, “Hello mate, you shouldn’t be out at this time of night, let me take you home, what`s your name?” “J-J-J-J” I couldn’t say it. I felt like something came over me, like someone had climbed into my body. “Charlie!” I merrily said, “Charlie Fisher.” “Nice to meet you, Charlie. Here get in, I`ll take you home.” My attitude changed completely, from being the happiest person in the world to being the meanest, “NO!” I screamed, pulled the knife from the box and stuck it in his waist then sharply pulled it out like a flash. I felt like myself again. I gazed at the kind man and a tear came from my eye. I ran home as fast as lightning.
I ran to my room and threw the knife at the wall. It was two minutes to twelve. My mum heard me crying, so she came up. As I could hear her coming up the stairs, I felt it again like someone climbed into me. “What`s up, son?” I grabbed the knife like a dart and aimed for her chest. I missed. I looked at my clock and it had just turned midnight. I felt my body clear up inside. I wasn’t dead and neither where any of my family. My Mum was stood still, not daring to move. I showed her the letter. She read it carefully as my face lit up. I gazed at my clock, 12:01. I screamed like Liverpool had won the league. I cried with joy. I hugged my mum and whispered to her, “I love this house!”
