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Description
Walking down the path to the old stone manor you might have thought you heard mice squeaking with pleasure over the sunny cloudless day. But no, the mice you would have heard were simply two best friends sharing secrets. If you had stopped to listen, you would have heard this conversation unfolding.

“Go on I dare you!” whispered Sarah teasing the other girl with her eyes.
“I dunno, Sarah. Nobody’s been in that house for years, its probably not safe.” replied Steph. The two girls had been discussing the old house that loomed up ominously before them. It contradicted its sunny, cloudless surroundings entirely.
“But think of how much valuable old junk must be in there, besides aren’t you just a little curious?” Sarah wheedled
“Well,” responded Steph hesitantly, “it would be kinda cool I guess.”
“Ya, and you’d be the hero of the whole town! Just think what everyone would say if they found out that Stephanie Saunder went into Cresson’s Manor.” said Sarah, emphasizing on the word everyone, “No ones dared to go into that place for years and years.” She continued.
“Fine,” said Steph just trying to get Sarah off of her back “but just for a minute,”

The young girl stepped timidly out from behind the tattered looking shrubs, glancing around nervously as she did so. Despite her long gangling legs, she took much longer than was necessary to walk down the age-worn path to the front steps of the manor. As she reached the porch she sneaked a look back at Sarah who was peering out from behind the bush and then she threw back her head and marched right through the front door.
Inside was dark and cool, and apart from the occasional dusty shaft of sunlight peeking through the boarded up windows, you would never have known about the lovely day outside. Steph took a minute to adjust her eyes to the darkness while she began to shut the door behind her, but then she stopped.
“That’s just what they would do in a movie,” she thought to herself, decidedly, “and when they find all the ghosts and try to run out, it gets mysteriously locked.” So she left the door wide open and continued down the hall. She passed many things, dusty old hall tables strewn with odd screws and bits of leather, an ancient grand-father clock which had lost its tick and several of its numbers a long time ago, and even a large, grimy gramophone complete with a stack of broken records. Regardless of all this antiquated finery, the things that really caught Steph’s attention were the portraits. Staring down at her were kind faces, sad lonely ones, and some with terrifying glares. As Steph reached the end of the hall she saw a portrait of a woman who was very beautiful with long shiny brown hair that fell almost to her waist. She had deep brown eyes that were sparkling uncontrollably and she looked as though she was laughing a great deal. After staring at the exquisite painting for quite a while, Steph moved off into the heart of the huge house, wondering what she would encounter next.
At first she thought the strange noise came from outside, a parade or something. But no, it was not coming from outside it was coming from the tapestry to her right. She looked around nervously as if expecting a shimmering white figure to come floating out from the shadows at any moment. Steph pulled back the tapestry and to her surprise there was a small door behind it. She placed her ear to the door and listened. The noise seemed to be some kind of sad music, it drifted and soared through the wood of the door and made Steph feel a little sad herself. Her curiosity soon got the better of her (as it does with most foolish young characters), and she reached for the door handle. It was stiff and grated inside the door most terribly, but the knob turned and the door opened. The music became more apparent now and Steph could hear the sound of people laughing and talking. She began to relax but still she was wary when she took the first few steps down the awaiting staircase. Even before she had reached the bottom she new something was dreadfully wrong. A roomful of about fifty guests musicians and dancers had stopped dead and all was utter silence. Steph didn’t know what to do and just as her ears were starting to ring unbearably the beautiful lady at the head of the table rose from her place and said in a rotund voice,
“Come, sit with us and feast we have more than enough food for twenty new guests!”
And she was right Steph had never seen such a feast with some foods she had never even heard of. As soon as Steph joined the table the orchestra started playing an eerie melody and the dancers danced and the guests resumed their conversations. Steph sat quietly observing many things. Firstly, the lady at the head of the table seemed to be the one that was in Steph’s beloved portrait, and secondly she appeared to have joined some kind of costume party because all of the people in the room were wearing very old-fashioned clothes.
As the Party wore on Steph began to get very sleepy and without even knowing it she fell asleep right on the table.
When Steph awoke she was lying slumped over the dining table with a thin grey blanket thrown over her shoulders. Not one of the guests, musicians, or even the beautiful portrait lady were in sight, in fact the room she was in had none of the previous night’s grandeur or splendid ness, the huge room looked as if no one had been it for many many years. Steph sat up stiffly and simply walked out of the house. She never told her parents or even Sarah what had happened in the old stone house, and she never saw the lady and her feasting partners again, though she returned to the faded ballroom many times. So was it a dream? Or was it real? Steph will never know.

Description
Walking down the path to the old stone manor you might have thought you heard mice squeaking with pleasure over the sunny cloudless day. But no, the mice you would have heard were simply two best friends sharing secrets. If you had stopped to listen, you would have heard this conversation unfolding.

“Go on I dare you!” whispered Sarah teasing the other girl with her eyes.
“I dunno, Sarah. Nobody’s been in that house for years, its probably not safe.” replied Steph. The two girls had been discussing the old house that loomed up ominously before them. It contradicted its sunny, cloudless surroundings entirely.
“But think of how much valuable old junk must be in there, besides aren’t you just a little curious?” Sarah wheedled
“Well,” responded Steph hesitantly, “it would be kinda cool I guess.”
“Ya, and you’d be the hero of the whole town! Just think what everyone would say if they found out that Stephanie Saunder went into Cresson’s Manor.” said Sarah, emphasizing on the word everyone, “No ones dared to go into that place for years and years.” She continued.
“Fine,” said Steph just trying to get Sarah off of her back “but just for a minute,”

The young girl stepped timidly out from behind the tattered looking shrubs, glancing around nervously as she did so. Despite her long gangling legs, she took much longer than was necessary to walk down the age-worn path to the front steps of the manor. As she reached the porch she sneaked a look back at Sarah who was peering out from behind the bush and then she threw back her head and marched right through the front door.
Inside was dark and cool, and apart from the occasional dusty shaft of sunlight peeking through the boarded up windows, you would never have known about the lovely day outside. Steph took a minute to adjust her eyes to the darkness while she began to shut the door behind her, but then she stopped.
“That’s just what they would do in a movie,” she thought to herself, decidedly, “and when they find all the ghosts and try to run out, it gets mysteriously locked.” So she left the door wide open and continued down the hall. She passed many things, dusty old hall tables strewn with odd screws and bits of leather, an ancient grand-father clock which had lost its tick and several of its numbers a long time ago, and even a large, grimy gramophone complete with a stack of broken records. Regardless of all this antiquated finery, the things that really caught Steph’s attention were the portraits. Staring down at her were kind faces, sad lonely ones, and some with terrifying glares. As Steph reached the end of the hall she saw a portrait of a woman who was very beautiful with long shiny brown hair that fell almost to her waist. She had deep brown eyes that were sparkling uncontrollably and she looked as though she was laughing a great deal. After staring at the exquisite painting for quite a while, Steph moved off into the heart of the huge house, wondering what she would encounter next.
At first she thought the strange noise came from outside, a parade or something. But no, it was not coming from outside it was coming from the tapestry to her right. She looked around nervously as if expecting a shimmering white figure to come floating out from the shadows at any moment. Steph pulled back the tapestry and to her surprise there was a small door behind it. She placed her ear to the door and listened. The noise seemed to be some kind of sad music, it drifted and soared through the wood of the door and made Steph feel a little sad herself. Her curiosity soon got the better of her (as it does with most foolish young characters), and she reached for the door handle. It was stiff and grated inside the door most terribly, but the knob turned and the door opened. The music became more apparent now and Steph could hear the sound of people laughing and talking. She began to relax but still she was wary when she took the first few steps down the awaiting staircase. Even before she had reached the bottom she new something was dreadfully wrong. A roomful of about fifty guests musicians and dancers had stopped dead and all was utter silence. Steph didn’t know what to do and just as her ears were starting to ring unbearably the beautiful lady at the head of the table rose from her place and said in a rotund voice,
“Come, sit with us and feast we have more than enough food for twenty new guests!”
And she was right Steph had never seen such a feast with some foods she had never even heard of. As soon as Steph joined the table the orchestra started playing an eerie melody and the dancers danced and the guests resumed their conversations. Steph sat quietly observing many things. Firstly, the lady at the head of the table seemed to be the one that was in Steph’s beloved portrait, and secondly she appeared to have joined some kind of costume party because all of the people in the room were wearing very old-fashioned clothes.
As the Party wore on Steph began to get very sleepy and without even knowing it she fell asleep right on the table.
When Steph awoke she was lying slumped over the dining table with a thin grey blanket thrown over her shoulders. Not one of the guests, musicians, or even the beautiful portrait lady were in sight, in fact the room she was in had none of the previous night’s grandeur or splendid ness, the huge room looked as if no one had been it for many many years. Steph sat up stiffly and simply walked out of the house. She never told her parents or even Sarah what had happened in the old stone house, and she never saw the lady and her feasting partners again, though she returned to the faded ballroom many times. So was it a dream? Or was it real? Steph will never know.