Clichés... So Overused!
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It was a dark, Halloween night as Chelsea and I peered out of the bushes towards the eerie old house looming over us. It was said to be haunted. We were dared by a group of schoolmates to sneak in and spend the night (they had to choose a night colder than a witches toe!). Chelsea was sweating bullets as we crept nearer and nearer to the front door. But I was as cool as a cucumber as I told her, "don't have a cow, there's nothing to be scared of". Although, as we came closer to the front door I, too, found myself more nervous than a cat in a room full of rocking chairs. I grabbed a stick off the ground and held it upright. Chelsea looked at me questioningly. "F-For protection", I stuttered, "in case we run into a ghost". She looked at me as though I had lost my marbles and replied, "That's about as useful as a screen door on a submarine!". She grabbed the stick, threw it over the fence, and continued on. Although I was madder than a wet hen, I just thought "what's done is done" and caught up with her. Once we had reached the door, Chelsea pushed it open. We peered in and stepped through the front door slower than a pregnant nun going to confession. Only moments after we entered, a woman two days older than dirt came out of the other room. She was more confused than a woodpecker in a concrete forest. I was about to apologise for our trespassing when Chelsea, who mistook the old woman as a ghost, yelled, "AAHHH!! THE WICKED WITCH OF THE WEST!! SHE'S BACK!!!" and scurried out the door, with her tail between her legs, faster than a speeding bullet. The woman was at a loss for words, she didn't know what to think. Chelsea just left me there to face this confused old woman. I couldn't think of anything else to say so I just muttered "syphilis" and walked away.
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