The Cellar by Christina Neely

Christina Neely
By Christina Neely April 8, 2013 00:52

The Cellar by Christina Neely


The first night Thomas spent in his new house was eventful from the screaming and moaning to objects being banged together. There was only one explanation: The house was haunted.

As Thomas explores the town he meets the beautiful Jane who tells him the story of the young girl who disappeared in that very house.

After discovering the other children fear him he realizes in order to make new friends he will have to exorcise the ghost, but will he survive?

The author has rated this book PG (not necessarily suitable for children).


The house loomed in front of me like a lion standing over its prey. The white paint was cracked and peeling it covered every inch of the old house, many of the formerly black shudders loosely clung by a single hinge…it had seen better days.

Tall weeds grew in the yard suggesting it had been several weeks since the lawn had been tended to. I still didn’t know why my father had accepted a job in this small town, but he did so here I was standing, still clinging to a box, in front of the old house that I now had to call home.

“Thomas hurry up and take that inside” my mother called being sure to cover the microphone on her Bluetooth, she didn’t want the client to hear.

“Yeah Yeah,” I grumbled under my breath walking up the moss covered stone steps.

Inside, the house was dark despite it being the middle of the day. A strange odor found its way inside my nostrils as I entered the foyer most likely from being closed up for so long.
The old steps creaked under my weight as I started up the stairs, the first time I went upstairs I thought they were going to collapse, but now I came to expect the creaking.
Like the rest of the house my room was dark that changed with the flip of a switch. The light illuminated the room while the ceiling fan roared to life sending dust particles through the air. At one time the walls had been painted a dark green, but over time it faded now they were a pale sickly color. My parents said that we could repaint them, but I doubt that will ever happen they will be too busy with work. I set the box in the corner of the empty room; the moving van hasn’t yet arrived with all our furniture.

Out the window my little sisters chased each other through the weed infested yard laughing as though they didn’t have a care in the world as though we didn’t just move from California to this small town in Kansas. My father busily carried another box from his old 2000 pickup truck while my mother continued the conversation with her client; after all, she was a consultant for a large firm who was allowing her to work out of our new house.

“Thomas where are you?” my father called on his way back out of the house to get another box.


I quickly exited my room.

Just at I got outside the large moving van pulled up spewing diesel fumes everywhere.

My father shoved the box he was carrying at me so he could direct the movers where to put the large items.

It only took a few hours for the movers to have the truck unpacked, filling our new house with boxes.

“Kids find the boxes with your name and take them to your rooms. Thomas help your sisters if they need it,” My mother instructed

She had finally hung up the phone…for now.

“Yeah,” I muttered finding my first box I took the old steps two at a time.

Even with everyone downstairs the house seemed eerily quiet as I made my way to my room. Now that the movers had finished, my bed was against the right wall while my old brown dresser occupied the space on the left next to the closet door. I set the box down next to the one I carried up earlier and began my trek back down to do it again.

“We’re going to order pizza for dinner,” I heard my mother say as I entered the living room

“That’s fine dear,”

My father was busy tinkering with another one of his gadgets; I don’t think he was really paying attention. He likes to invent things, although his inventions don’t always go as planned, so he took a job at a local company his official title Innovative Engineer but mainly, he just gets to use company resources to bring his hair-brained ideas to reality.

“Tommy can you carry this”

My little sister tugged on my shirt.


I picked up her box along with another of mine and carried them both upstairs.
By the time the pizza arrived most of our boxes were in our rooms where they belonged.

“This is a good dinner dear,” my father joked.

“I knew you’d like it,” she jested back

I rolled my eyes at their conversation at least my sisters were having more fun wearing their pizza as the cheese stretched with each bite causing sauce and topping to fall in their laps. I quickly downed two pieces of pizza

“Going to unpack,” I called throwing my paper plate in the trash and hurrying out the door before they could say anything.

Once again the eerie silence filled my dark room with a click the light switch flipped illuminating the area. Placing the first box on my bed I started the mundane task of unpacking. A short while later my sisters came bounding up the stairs each going into her room…filling the silence that once reigned supreme. Ignoring the chatter of my sisters I continued to hang the clothes in my closet.

“Girls get ready for bed”

My mother’s voice echoed through the house once the clock struck nine.

“K mom,” the girls called in unison.

Sometimes I thought it might be nice to have a twin someone to always play with as a child, but as they argued over who got the new pink toothbrush I realized; I was glad I wasn’t one. Shaking my head I pushed the door shut to drown out the sound of their arguing. My mother rushed upstairs to break up the skirmish.

Once I was sure my sisters were in bed I opened my door again listening to the creaking of the old house as it settled in for the night. I plopped down on my newly made bed wrinkling the covers; I had enough unpacking for one day and wanted to relax a little.
This is so frustrating instead of the sound of cars driving down the road I get crickets chirping. Instead of sirens I get dogs barking.

I rolled over looking at the bright red numbers of my alarm clock 11:19.

I should try to get some sleep

I drug myself out of the bed and made my way to the bathroom to brush my teeth and get ready for my first night in the new house.


I had just gargled my mouth when someone screamed. Quickly spitting I ran from the bathroom down the creaking stairs listening, trying to pinpoint the exact location.


I heard again this time accompanied by the sounds of two metal objects being smashed together.

“What’s gong on?” I heard behind me

Instinctively I turned and swung my fist connecting with something hard.

“Sport it’s just me,”

My father was holding a baseball bat out in front of him

“Dad, I think you broke my hand,” I said shaking it, which only increased the throbbing.

“Do you know who’s screaming?” I asked



Rang through the house once more as the banging also continued. Looking at each other we continued down the dark hall towards the kitchen the floorboards groaning beneath our feet. My father clicked on the light as we entered the room; just as we left it boxes piled up everywhere.


I jumped as something hit the floor from beneath.

“What’s going on?” I asked in a voice so squeaky it couldn’t have possibly come from my mouth.


The voice once again sounded Clang rang through the house as the metal object hit each other again.


My father pointed to a door in the corner of the kitchen. His hand was shaking proving he was just as frightened as I was

“Where does it lead?” I asked

“Don’t know, Basement probably”

Copyright© Christina Neely. All rights reserved.

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Christina Neely
By Christina Neely April 8, 2013 00:52
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