The Storm

Boom!

'What was that?'

The house shudders as rain pelts against the wooden panelled ceiling. Crash!

'Ah! I don't know.'
'What's going on?'

Boom! Is that thunder or something else?

'It's just a storm,'

Crack! Ssssssssssssss... a beam swings from the ceiling, barely missing my head.

'I don't like it here; can we please go Rachel?'
'Not in this weather, we'd be killed by the storm.'
'Or by whatever's out there, it might attack us then shred us to pieces.'
'Amanda, stop making things up, there's nothing out there and you pretending there is, isn't going to scare me.'

Thump! Thump! Thump! The door rattles, its hinges creaking under the pressure from the other side. Rotten wood warps towards us, water drips down from the ceiling and the glass in the windows shakes in its frames.

'If there's nothing out there, then what was that?'

Silence falls, all three of us too scared to answer.

'I don't care if you're coming or not, I'm getting out of here!'
'Ok Georgie, maybe you're right, that thing is going to get us if we stay here for any longer. Rachel, are you coming?'
'For goodness sake Amanda, quit making things up, you're scaring Georgie!'
'I'm not making them up, you just can't admit that I'm right! Plus, I don't think that it's Georgie that's scared.'
'You're not right!'
'I am right, how else do you explain the door?'
'Um... It's an old building, doors sometimes... warp.'
'That's the most pathetic excuse I've ever heard.'

We continue arguing over whether or not there's someone else outside until I look around and realise something.

'Where's Georgie?'
'What do you mean, where's Georgie?'
'I mean where's my sister?!'

Trigger Warnings: Death, gore, depression