Spike’s Ghost Story Not long after I came to teach at Firth Park I stayed late one night to catch up on marking exam papers. At that time, I taught in Room 2. That was long before the war, but the room looked much as it does now. My desk was just in front of the blackboard at the back of the room. The disused door leading to the old servants’ staircase was behind me and to the right as I sat at my desk. Everyone else had left for home leaving the school deserted. The only sounds were the ticking of the clock and the odd creak of the woodwork in the old building as it cooled from the heat of day. Suddenly, I felt a tingling in the hair at the back of my neck. I looked round at the servants’ door. Heavy footsteps sounded on the staircase. I knew no one ever used that staircase. Someone, or something, was climbing up the stairs towards me. The air in the room had been quite hot and stuffy, but now it turned bitter cold. An intense feeling of evil filled me as the footsteps came nearer and nearer to the top of the stairs. Just then, there was a loud click and every light in the room went out. It was already dark outside, so the room was pitch dark. I ran from the room through the main doorway leaving everything behind, not even taking my coat, which hung in a cupboard between the blackboard and that other door. The corridor was also completely dark. I ran along it in a flat panic not even thinking that there might be obstacles lying on the floor to trip me up. I made it to the top of the main staircase and started down. There was a faint glow down on the next floor that allowed me to see the steps. I ran down them clutching the balustrade to guide me. At the bottom of that flight of stairs I saw the glow was coming from moonlight filtering through the stained glass windows on the landing between the first and ground floors. Feeling a little calmer now that safety was just ahead, I ran down to the ground floor hallway and across to the double doors of the main entrance. Thankfully, I pushed against them. They would not budge. I hammered on them, but it was hopeless. Mr. Ironside, the caretaker, had locked the doors before he left for the night. Frantically I searched my pockets for my own keys, and then I remembered. My keys were in my coat in the cupboard back in the classroom. I tried to tell myself that there was nothing to fear. I was being silly. There was no one up there. All I had to do was climb back up the stairs and get the keys from my coat. I remembered the coat was in the cupboard right beside that door, and whatever was on the other side it. A shiver ran down my spine. I turned and banged on the doors again. It was pointless. There was no way out. I wondered if I could phone the caretaker’s house from the offices on the next floor. I crossed the hallway back to the foot of the main staircase. Looking up the stairs, I saw a ghostly shape moving across the stained glass window on the landing. I panicked again and ran off along the corridor leading past the staffroom. I remembered there was a window in the staffroom that had a loose catch. The staffroom door had no lock. I dashed inside and slammed the door behind me. I stumbled across the dark room weaving my way through the scattered chairs. The catch was stiff and my hands were trembling so much it took forever to open the widow. I heard the creaking behind me as the door slowly opened. Footsteps crossed the room towards me. I dare not look round. I managed to open the window just far enough for me to crawl through, but before I was even half way through an icy hand gripped my ankle and began to drag me back into the room. There I was stuck half way through the window unable to get out with a ghostly hand pulling my leg, just like I’m pulling yours.
Posted on: Mon, 22 Jul 2013 16:38:13 +0000
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