Scary Story! by Annie

     SCR-EE-CH! There was that eerie noise again.  I just had to see what it was.  I opened the door and gasped!  There was a huge bat right in front of me!  Well, at least it was right in front of me.  It flew off as soon as I opened the door.  That's why it seemed so big!  It was so close to my face!
     I moved on to the next bedroom in the new house.  My parents and I had just moved into this house in Illinois from Idaho.  I think it's a haunted house, but mom says all it needs is some petunias in the front yard and a new paint job.  Just thinking about it gives me goosebumps.  As I tiptoed towards the next room, I heard a creaky-sort of sound.  I shrieked.
     "AA-Ahh-hhah!"  I fell over hard on to my side.
     "Cre-e-ak!"  I heard the sound again!  I looked down to find that the floorboard I was standing on had been making the sound.  I felt so embarrassed!  I was glad no one saw me.  Mom was downstairs and Dad was tending to the garden, so it wasn't them that made the snicker.
     I looked around.  I was alone.  I sighed and moved on.  In the next room, there was a huge closet.  I looked around to make sure no one was looking, then I opened the closet quickly.  I held my breath as I did it...and...I opened my eyes.
     "What??" I gasped.  There was nothing there!  I turned around and my heart skipped a beat.
     "Hello there!" said the little boy happily.
     "AAAAHHHAHH!!!"  I fell back and screamed.
     The boy said, "Sshh!  You don't want them to hear us do you?"  He gave me a stern look.  He had dark blue eyes and dirty blond hair.  He was very pale though, and looked hungry too.  I could see the out-line of his ribs through his shirt!  He looked about my age, 11.
     "W-Who-oo are y-you?" I shakily asked.
     "I'm Willabeury," he said.  "Jason Willabeury," he smiled.  "And who might you be?" he gestured towards me.
     "I-I..." I stuttered.  "I'm Spence.  Tommy Spence.  How did you get here?  When did you get here?  I-..."  There were so many questions to ask!
     He answered, "I was born in this house and lived here until my parents disappeared."
     "When did you get here?" I asked.
     "Um...about 1869.  I am 11 years old and-"  He tried to finish, but I cut him off.
     "Wait!  What did you say?"
     He answered slowly, "I am eleven."
     "No!  Before that!  When were you born?" I shouted.
     "I was born in 1869!" he said proudly.
     Oh my gosh!  I thought.  I was born in 2002.  "It's 2013!" I screamed.
     "No, it's 1881.  I'm only eleven!"
     We started arguing until I showed him to my mom.
     "What's the matter hon?"
     "He says he was born in 1869," I told her.
     "Who?" she suspiciously asked me.  "Tommy, I told you not to have imaginary friends!"  I looked beside me.  Jason was gone!
     More months passed, and there was no sign of Jason anywhere.  When I was older, my family moved to Wisconsin.  I always strolled around the graveyard behind our house when I had the time.  One day, I saw something I will never forget as long as I live:  It was Jason's gravestone.  Here's what it looked like:

     On the back it said, "Died on Gendinue Road 18531 in Illinois.  His parents moved to Wisconsin and buried him here.  Poor, sweet, little Jason."
     I am 26 now and I'm a scary story writer.  The only thing that I write that is true is this story.  Every once in a while at night I smell a foul stench and hear this whisper, "1881, Spence.  1881...."