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I Nearly Died of Fright

Autor:   •  September 10, 2017  •  Creative Writing  •  390 Words (2 Pages)  •  648 Views

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I nearly died of fright


I nearly died of fright!

When I was a child, exactly when I was five, we moved to another flat. It was a flat with two floors, my parents and I slept in the first floor, where we spent the most part of our daily lives. The years passed so fast. Everything was normal, or that’s what I thought. When I grew up to the age of nine, nothing had changed, I was still a child with a lot of imagination and creativity who was capable of creating amazing stories with a lot of characters. But, once, I woke up in the middle of the night. I don’t know why but I felt observed. I switched on the light, but here was the problem: my light is that type of light that turns on, then it went off for a second and finally it lit. When the light turned on for the first time I saw my dead grandparent sitting in front of me. He was looking at me in a compassionate way, sitting in an old leather armchair that was from my grandparents’ house. In that little fraction of time my voice disappeared, my brain couldn’t think clearly and my eyes wanted to believe that was real. I only knew my grandparent for a few years and I didn’t spent much time with him, so for me was like a scary-nostalgic moment. But then everything I saw disappear when the light went off, expecting that when the light lit again, my grandparent would be sitting looking at me in the same way he did it the first time he met me. But everything was just imagination, or that was everything my parents said when I ran into their room, interrupting their sleeping time. They sent me to sleep again, telling me that ghosts didn’t exist and that I had a lot of imagination which distorted the reality. Sometimes I wonder what would’ve happened if my grandparent was sitting on the armchair when the light lit for the last time, the last time I saw my grandparent. Would have been able to talk to him, asking him all the questions I had? Or, simply, I would be lying in bed, staring at him, and remembering all the good, but brief, times I had with my loved grandparent?


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