The Panic Room
My parents normally shipped my twin brothers and me off to my cousins’ house for the summer, for about two weeks, and ten years ago it was no different. My cousins live the ritzy lifestyle: they have this huge house that was built in the middle of nowhere, about ten minutes from the city. My Uncle Ron decided to put in a panic room, just in case; if he wasn't home, my cousins Sean and Dean could go into it to be safe. My whole family thought it was a little stupid to put one in, considering Uncle Ron rarely left the house.
It was the second week of June and we had just arrived. Upon going inside the house, I noticed that sitting next to the fire place was a doll. Not just any ordinary doll – a clown doll. Now, I'm scared of clowns anyway, but this doll gave off an extremely eerie vibe.
I pushed the thought of the clown out of my mind, settled in and played with Sean and Dean for a couple of hours until Uncle Ron had to go a friend’s. He wasn't expecting to be back until eleven or twelve that night. I really wasn't up for the idea, but Dean said he'd break out the vodka when Uncle Ron left.
Of course, Dean kept his promise and we drank a little, until my brothers - Nils and Dexter, who were 11 at the time - said we were going to die of liver failure. I freaked out and gave up on the drinking.
Then we heard a strange noise. It was just a soft thud, and I asked if they had a cat or something, but they said no because Sean was allergic to animals of any kind. We joked around, saying it was a ghost; right then, there was another soft thud.
I started to get worried. We were all in Dean's room with the door shut and locked, just in case Uncle Ron came home early and found us drinking. The next sound we heard was a banshee scream. I looked nervously at Dean, thinking he was trying to scare the younger ones, but his face was white as snow. The scream suddenly stopped.
THUD! THUD! THUD!
My brothers were now sobbing and we were all huddled in the corner. Sean had had enough and went to go investigate.
As soon as he turned the handle, the door flew open, knocking him down. There was a big gust of air and a howling wind blew into the room. Dean ran over to Sean and screamed for us to get into the panic room. I had no idea where it was; Uncle Ron had only told Sean and Dean where it was. He told us to go into Uncle Ron's bathroom, climb under the sink and push, and the wall should open. I was crying and trying to get my brothers up and out of the room.
I was running with my cousins and brothers, trying to get to his room which was at the opposite end of the house.
BAM! All the door started slamming in unison. We ran even faster. As we neared Uncle Ron’s room, we passed the entrance to the house. I froze in horror. The doll was gone.
“It's not the doll, it’s not the doll,” I repeated under my breath as the others kept running.
“Jesus Christ! Finn, get the HELL into the room!" Dexter yelled at me over and over, but I stood shell-shocked, listening to the doors slam. Suddenly, there was dead silence. A sound suddenly filled the house, a scream unlike before.
I snapped out of my trance and ran. Dean was standing outside the door, ushering me inside. The door slammed shut behind me, locking Dean outside. I raced over with Sean, trying to open the door, but to no avail. Sean was screaming for his brother, but Dean told him to go and he'd find a way down.
We climbed into the panic room and tried to calm down. We could still hear the screaming and things breaking. About an hour later Dean came into the room. He looked like a cancer patient, like someone slowly dying. We tried talking to him, but if we even got near him or made a sound he flipped out. He said he called Uncle Ron and 911.
I'm not sure how long it had been before we were startled by a noise coming from the entrance to the panic room. Dean grabbed a gun and pointed it towards the door. It opened and we all breathed a sigh of relief; it was Uncle Ron and a cop. I started crying, I was so relieved. We all spurted out what had happened. The cop and Uncle Ron looked at each other with a "yeah right" look on their faces.
"I found the vodka in one of the rooms," the cop said. "They probably got a little drunk and played some ghost game."
Dean looked furious.
"That's not true! It was that doll in the front room – I saw it!" I knew it. It was the damn clown doll.
Ten years have passed since that day. Uncle Ron refused to get rid of the doll, but we had a little burning party the next day. Sean doesn't believe that it ever happened, believing it was in fact the vodka. Nils and Dexter go around proudly bragging about their haunting experience. As for Dean, he became anti-social, depressed and suicidal.
And as for me, anybody I've told this to thinks it's just some story. But I won't become just some story once it happens to you.
