Pupils' WorkComments Off on DESCRIPTIVE WRITING


Up a dark, eerie mountain in the deepest, darkest corner of a creepy forest lay a rundown mansion.  The walls were crumbling under the mighty wind.  A mature tree was bursting through all three floors and through the roof.

Inside, the grand hall was a mess.  The woodlice infested staircase was riddled with holes. The once grand red carpet was now covered in holes from moths.  The floor creaking as mice and rats scuttled across the floor.

The large, double door to the musty kitchen had been broken down.  The contents of the cupboards lay all over the dust covered work top.  The dried, brown blood of what was more than likely one of the householders lay still after staining the cupboard, work top and floor boards.

Up the rotting stairs there were five large bedrooms.  One bedroom  belonged to the master and mistress of the house.  Their bodies lay on the ground.  The once white bedsheets were stained with blood.  Inside their young five year old son’s bedroom there was no movement apart from the red, velvet window curtains swaying in the wind.  The room lay untouched.

Inside their two guest rooms lay an ocean of dead rats.  Apart from the rats the room like the second lay untouched.  They both had purple satin and white carpet.  The beds had red pillows and read duvets.  The fifth and final bedroom had a young boy dead on the blue and purple bed.  The large white dresser was splattered with blood and a small, brown wardrobe lay open with a young child’s legs protruding.

The final room, the grandest room of all was the sitting room.  With its once impressive blue velvet chairs that were now infested with rats that still managed to inhabit it.  The glass chandelier was smashed on the ground.  Birds, mice, rats, etc. all lying dead around it, more than likely after choking on the sharp glass.

But worst of all was the constant cawing of the crows, the mysterious squeaking noises that no one can explain and the shrieking and crying of GHOSTS.  I turned and fled the mansion.  The shrieks and cries getting quieter as I ran.  When I turned around and looked at it for one final time I saw a tall, skinny, pale person looking at me.  It left out one menacing howl and walked away.  That’s a place that no one should ever go near.

By:  Michael O’Riordan


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