The Freak

by Carys
(Wales)

In my class there is the freak. She has long wild hair, it's never tied back, with dark eyes that have no light in them. She sits alone at the back of the class, completely forgotten, until yesterday.

I was having a sleepover for my birthday. I felt sorry for her, so I asked her if she wanted to tag along. The light was somehow switched on behind those eyes. like someone in there had put in a new light bulb.

"Yes " Came the answer.

I told her to come on Saturday. And on Saturday, everyone came. My four friends, and the freak. They had already asked me, "Why bring the freak? We have enough people already!" I told them she might be nice. She wasn't. She was a bit scary. And when we were telling scary stories, as you do in a sleepover, she was a telling the most gruesome.

" In this house, years ago, there was a girl named Harriet. She lived here with her father and her mother, and a servant. She was a happy girl, but one night, after a hard day of work, the father cracked under the pressure of his job, and went on a wild rampage, killing everyone in the house.

The next day, when the postman came round, he was terrified to see a human hand, punched through the letter box. Has he slowly opened the door, the father stabbed him, one, two, three, before finally killing himself. Now, the ghost of Harriet walks the earth, wanting to go back to the house, were she was happy, before the incident. But something was wrong when she went back that house. There were people in it. She had to get rid of them to be happy. So, who ever buys that house, will die the same, horrible death that she surffered."

Suddenly, there was a crack of thunder outside, and the streak of lighting hit the roof, sending a horrible crash, echoing through the house.
"What was that?" I asked, trembling behind one of my tougher friends.

I looked around the room looking for the freak, but she was gone.

The next morning I got up and called round the house asking my Dad and my Mum if they had seen the freak.

" Oh yes, she left early, said she had to go to a church or something." Said my Dad.

"A wedding perhaps?" Said my mum.

"She was a nice girl that Harriet." Said Dad.
"What was her name?" I asked gobsmacked.
"Harriet."

I rushed down to the church after my friends had left, looking for something.
At the church, I went down to the cemetery, and went through the graves, and then I stood there, and I might not have been in any danger at all, but it was the scariest moment in my whole life when I read that gravestone.

"Harriet Darnet. Taken from us by the horror of the workplace, may she rest for ever in holy bliss, 1820-1832."

I read the next one.

"James Darnet. Driven by the workplace to commit sin, may he forever rest. 1799-1832."

And the next one.

"Victoria Darnet. Loving Mother, taken from us far too early by the workplace. 1800-1832."

"The workplace..." I mumbled.

"Yes, the workplace. All three of us, the servant and the postie." Said a voice behind me.

I turned around. It was the freak. Or Harriet.
" Your Harriet..." I said quietly.

"Yes," She said, a horrible, bloody smile spreading across her face.

"And you are in my house."