Hi there, I'm Abby, very new to writing horror, honestly I'm new to writing in general, but I'm eager to become proficient in it. I've had a horror story idea roaming around in my head for close to a decade that I want to eventually publish, but need to master the basics if I want it to turn out well. This story exercise is part of that process! I hope you enjoy my short story!

Gravel was crunching beneath the wheels of the small 1979 Ford Pinto while the Maguire children rested peacefully in the backseat. Daniel, age 9 was secured tightly in place with his sandy hair gently hanging to his drooping left side. Dreaming heavily of the small friend he begrudgingly said goodbye to, just a few days before. To the right was Violet, age 14. Her eyes were closed and content, yet not completely asleep. The move from New Hampshire to their new home of Somerton, GA was a laborious and grinding endeavor for Violet. Their former home of Charity, New Hampshire was all she ever knew. Born from the town hospital, she grew up off Muller St, which trailed off the interstate that ran through the center of town. A rustic and delightful North-Eastern town, flourishing with tall pine trees, and expansive rolling hills, Charity had been an optimal hometown for Violet, if there ever was such a thing. She was secure with many friends, who she played recess, climbed trees and explored the New England landscape with. Although she lost contact with some, a majority of her childhood friends were still close to her. It was going to be her Freshman year of Charity high school, Until 2 months prior when her father announced the radical decision of moving 7 states away to Georgia, much to Violet's annoyance, she originally insisted on staying with one of her best friends to finish her first year of High School, but the idea was shot down by her mother.

"Violet. It's May, we can make it to Somerton before your new school year rolls around. It's a new beginning for all of us, perk up honey, try and see this as a new adventure! "

The memory of her mother's words passed through Violet's mind. Her closed eyes tightened and curled. A new adventure? The family never set foot anywhere near the GA border, had zero ties to people or family in the state, all except for a Great Uncle who lived in Norcross. Her lips souring at the thought of getting a first glance at the house. It was going to look disheveled, gross and inhospitable. Her shoulders shuttered a bit. No way. She thought. No way am I spending a millisecond in this dusty old shed. I'll sleep in the car, Dad won't care. A small twinge of sadness passed through her chest.

Her father, while not a strict disciplinarian, grew up in a home with only men, so connecting to his young daughter was a challenge Violet didn't see him rising up to. Higher pay, plus a deal made to renovate an antique antebellum home meant whatever lamenting or bitter anger Violet had to give about the situation was immediately ignored by her father. She often wondered if he even cared about her thoughts at all.

A random pothole violently lifted the vehicle into the air for a split second, along with it's passengers.

"Woah, woah, hey. Everybody okay back there?" Walter said with an amused, yet concerned smile.

Violet's eyes flashed open, and leered over at her father. Her body remaining unphased.

"Nope. But thanks for asking."

Walter's corner smile shrunk into a frown. Violet's sarcasm, although routine, still didn't settle well with him. He sighed

"Violet. I know why you're upset. But trust me, Somerton has alot going for it, and it's

To Be Continued

Abigail H

--

3