Tuesday Thorpe wrote the following story for class after watching a TV411 segment about mystery writer, Elizabeth Daniels Squire. Give it a read and see how an enthusiastic and patient writer turns a childhood memory into a memorable story.

HALLOWEEN WAS A TRICK NOT A TREAT

When I was thirteen years old, my family and I moved into a 100-year-old farmhouse. My mom told us that one Halloween night the 78-year-old man who used to live in the farmhouse had hung himself in the workroom with an old rustic chain. The creepy workroom where the man hung himself was right under my younger sister's and my room.

We had lived in the farmhouse for about six months. It was Halloween night and my sister and I went trick-or-treating with our friends. It was bitterly cold outside, and it started to drizzle rain. So my sister and I decided to go home. When we arrived home, it started to rain hard, like cats and dogs. Then it started to lightning and thunder. The lightning lit up the dark sky. The thunder rolled through the night air. It started to scare my sister and I. We were home by ourselves. My sister asked me if I would go upstairs with her so she could try and go to sleep, so I did. We sat on her comfy bed and talked about different things. Then at about twelve o'clock midnight, my sister and I started to hear some very creepy noises coming from the workroom below us. We started to get scared. Then we heard a sound like power tools starting up. My sister and I were really getting scared. We heard the rustic chain starting to rattle. After than we swore we heard the 78-year-old man moaning. Then we heard him saying different things like, "I want to die," and he kept saying, "I will be with you shortly, my love." By this time, my sister and I were hugging each other so tight neither of us could breath. We were scared stiff. We then heard footsteps coming up the creaky stairs. I kept thinking to myself that the old man had come to hurt my sister and me. I ran over to the door and locked it as fast as I could. Then I scurried back across the floor. I moved so fast, I don't even think my feet hit the floor. Then the doorknob started to shake like someone was trying to get in. My sister and I screamed and started to cry. Then we heard a loud knock on the old wooden door. I said real loud, "Go away and leave us alone." Then my mother said, "Open the door and let me in."

We were so happy to hear the sweet voice of our mom. My sister and I both ran to the old wooden door and opened it and jumped in her arms and about knocked her over. By this time our two really mean older brothers came up the creaky stairs, laughing so hard they had tears rolling down their faces. Here this whole time my sister and I thought it was the 78-year-old man's ghost coming to get us. All along, it was our two older brothers playing a joke on us. My sister and I have yet to get them back for that night, but we will one of these days, and that's a promise.