The House/ Writing Assignment #2 Draft 3

Nothing could ever be heard from the house behind Uncle Tom’s garage. There were no cars, no people, not even mice or cats that could make the slightest sound. Every time I went past it, I felt a chill in my body.
The walls of the house were very gray and ghost like. The roof looked liked an old scarf with mud stains on it. The windows of the house which had Jesus and Mary painted on them with bright colors, had now turned into a very muddy colored paintings like the one’s form the Middle Ages. The house smelled like rotten milk forms the outside. I had always wondered why that place looked so lifeless. There were other houses in that neighborhood that no one had lived in for years; some probably even older than that house, still none of them looked so frightening.
As I entered Uncle’s house I wondered about what might have made that house so creepy. “Uncle why is that house so terrifying” I asked.
He knew exactly what I was talking about. “Why do you want to know?” He said. “Well Uncle I have been coming here for a long time now, and every time I am here the only thing I can think about is that house.”
He began the story unwillingly. “About fifteen years ago a couple lived in that house. They weren’t any different than anyone else in this town. They went to work in the morning, came to Church every Sunday and often went out on weekends. Then one rainy night she told him she was leaving him.”...“Who told who” I interrupted
Do you want to know the story or not?
“Yes!” I replied and he continued. “He could not believe what he had just heard. As she took off her wedding ring, he remembered how soft her hands had felt when he had given it to her. He remembered the first time they had met. Their first date. The day of their wedding, and many other happy times they had spent together. Now it was all over. It didn’t matter to her how much he loved her or what he would do with out her. She was leaving him for absolutely no good reason. Without thinking about it he took a knife and stabbed her as she turned around. She screamed but it could not be heard because of the lightning outside. Now there was blood everywhere. On the floor, on the wooden table they had made after they had first moved into that house.
What had he done? Why had he done it? She was the world for him. She was his life.
He looked at her, she was not dead yet. I hate you she whispered to him and she died. The light went out, he felt scared now. What if someone found out? He saw the lights of a police car from his house as it was passing by. He took the knife once more into his hand and stabbed himself.
There bodies were found three days later by the police in a dump truck.”
“How did they get there” I asked
“No one knows, but if you ever go inside the house; it wouldn’t look any different then what it looked like fifteen years ago.”
“But how do you know so much about it and you never told me what their names were or why he killed her.”
“There are some things that I do not know and some things I do not wish to tell you.”

The House/ Writing Assignment #2 Draft 2

Nothing could ever be heard from the house behind Uncle Tom’s garage. There were no cars, no people, not even mice or cats that could make the slightest sound. Every time I went past it, I felt a chill in my body.The walls of the house were very gray and ghost like. The windows of the house which had Jesus and Mary painted on them with bright colors, had now turned into a very muddy colored paintings like the one’s form the Middle Ages. I had always wondered why that place looked so lifeless. There were other houses in that neighborhood that no one had lived in for years; some probably even older than that house, still none of them looked so frightening.As I entered Uncle’s house I wondered about what might have made that house so creepy. “Uncle why is that house so terrifying” I askedHe knew exactly what I was talking about. “Why do you want to know?” He said. “Well Uncle I have been coming here for a long time now, and every time I am here the only thing I can think about is that house.”He began the story unwillingly. “About fifteen years ago a couple lived in that house. They weren’t any different than anyone else in this town. They went to work in the morning, came to Church every Sunday and often went out on weekends. Then one rainy night she told him she was leaving him.”...“Who told who” I interruptedDo you want to know the story or not?“Yes!” I replied and he continued. “He could not believe what he had just heard. As she took off her wedding ring, he remembered how soft her hands had felt when he had given it to her. He remembered the first time they had met. Their first date. The day of their wedding, and many other happy times they had spent together. Now it was all over. It didn’t matter to her how much he loved her or what he would do with out her. She was leaving him for absolutely no good reason. Without thinking about it he took a knife and stabbed her as she turned around. She screamed but it could not be heard because of the lightning outside. Now there was blood everywhere. On the floor, on the wooden table they had made after they had first moved into that house.What had he done? Why had he done it? She was the world for him. She was his life.He looked at her, she was not dead yet. I hate you she whispered to him and she died. The light went out, he felt scared now. What if someone found out? He saw the lights of a police car from his house as it was passing by. He took the knife once more into his hand and stabbed himself.There bodies were found three days later by the police in a dump truck.”“How did they get there” I asked“No one knows, but if you ever go inside the house; it wouldn’t look any different then what it looked like fifteen years ago.”“But how do you know so much about it and you never told me what their names were or why he killed her.”“There are some things that I do not know and some things I do not wish to tell you.”

The House/ Writing Assignment #2 Draft 1

Nothing could ever be heard from the house behind Uncle Tom’s garage. There were no cars no people not even mice or cats that could make the slightest sound. Every time I went past it, I felt a chill in my body.
The walls of the house were very gray and ghost like. The windows of the house which had Jesus and Mary painted on them with bright colors, had now turned into a very muddy colored paintings like the one’s form the Middle Ages. I had always wondered why that place looked so lifeless. There were other houses in that neighborhood that no one had lived in for years; some probably even older than that house, still none of them looked so frightening.
As I entered uncle’s house I wondered about what might have made that house so creepy.
“Uncle why is that house so terrifying” I asked
He knew exactly what I was talking about. “Why do you want to know?” He said.
“Well Uncle I have been coming here for a long time now, and every time I am here the only thing I can think about is that house.”
He began the story unwillingly. “About fifteen years ago a couple lived in that house. They weren’t any different than anyone ales in this town. They went to work in the morning, came to Church every Sunday and often went out on weekends. Then one rainy night she told him she was leaving him.”...
“Who told who” I interrupted
Do you want to know the story or not?
“Yes!” I replied and he continued.
“He could not believe what he had just heard. As she took off her wedding ring, he remembered how soft her hands had felt when he had given it to her. He remembered the first time they had met. Their first date. The day of their wedding, and many other happy times they had spent together. Now it was all over. It didn’t matter to her how much he loved her or what he would do with out her. She was leaving him for absolutely no good reason.
She turned around and he stabbed her with a knife. She screamed but it could not be heard because of the lightning outside. Now there was blood everywhere. On the floor, on the wooden table they had made after they had first moved into that house.
What had he done? Why had he done it? She was the world for him. She was him like.
He looked at her, she was not dead yet. I hate you she whispered to him and she died. The light went out, he felt scared now. What if someone found out? He saw the lights of a police car from his house. He took the knife once more into his hand and stabbed himself.
There bodies were found three days later by the police in a dump truck.”
“How did they get there” I asked
“No one knows, but if you ever go inside the house; it wouldn’t look any different then what it looked like fifteen years ago.”
“But how do you know so much about it and you never told me what their names were or why he killed her.”
“There are some things that I do not know and some things I do not wish to tell you.”