By Carolina Koceman Jamila Faizullabhoy
The year is 1970. The bell rang, signaling it was time for 6th period. I walked down the pink colored halls. My last class was on the basement floor. I hated it, it was so scary. The dark rooms, no windows, water dripping, it was DISGUSTING! There is a rumor that every Friday the 13th someone gets locked in the basement. People say you can hear the screams of the people dying down there.
You see before SBJHS was a school it was a hospital for mentally insane people. It was supposedly shut down on Friday the 13th, hence where the rumor came from.
A cold chill hit me. This wasn’t usual. It was normally cold, but definitely not this much. There also seemed to be way more boxes than usual. I tried to ignore that and get to my class. It was locked. I knocked furiously. Wait, I thought. It’s Friday the 13th. That means somebody must be locked in. I listened closely, but I didn’t hear any screams. I knocked again. The door suddenly swung open. I stepped inside without thinking. There just seemed to be something drawing me in. The door slammed shut. This is when I come to my senses. I was the person locked in the basement. “HELP! HELP!”, I started screaming. I checked the time on my phone 7:00 P.M. How has time gone by so fast? I must be imaging things. I checked it again. It still said 7:00. I turned around to properly face the room. It didn’t look like a class anymore. It actually looked like a welcoming space. There was a couch, some books, a fridge, and a T.V. What had happened to this place. It suddenly seemed more comforting. I then sat on couch and that’s when I heard a scream.