Question

Everyone his | her personal superstition. Write a scary story about one of them. Start like this:In fact I don't believe in superstitions. But one day...

Answer 1

Но однажды ночью мне показалось что в моей комнате есть кто-то кроме меня. Я открыл глаза и увидел у окна тень. Она была очень высокая, худая и протягивала ко мне руки. Мне стало страшно и я закричал так громко как только мог. Я сидел на кровати и кричал. Вдруг в комнату вбежали мои родители. Они были очень напуганы. Папа включил свет, и я перестал кричать. Оказывается, днем мама принесла из зала в мою комнату огромную пальму в большом горшке и поставила ее за штору. Ночью была полная луна и мне показалось, что это женщина... Мне никогда не было так страшно как в ту ночь......

But one night it seemed to me that there was someone besides me in my room. I opened my eyes and saw a woman's shade at the window . She was very tall, thin and she stretched out her arms to me. I was scared and I screamed so loud as I could. I was sitting on the bed and crying. Suddenly my parents ran into my room. They were very frightened. Dad turned on the light, and I stopped screaming. It turned out that in the afternoon, my mother brought a huge palm tree in a large pot from the hall into my room and she put it behind the curtains. That night there was full moon, and it seemed to me that it was a woman... I have never been so bad as that night......

Answer 2

In fact, I don't believe in superstitions. But one day, I found myself in a situation that made me question everything I thought I knew. It was a cold, stormy night, and I was driving through a desolate country road. The rain was pouring heavily, and the wind howled like an eerie melody.

As I navigated through the darkness, my headlights illuminated a small, dilapidated house on the side of the road. Curiosity got the best of me, and against my better judgment, I decided to investigate. I parked my car, grabbed my umbrella, and cautiously approached the house.

The door creaked open with a spine-chilling sound, revealing a dimly lit interior. The musty smell of old wood and decay filled the air. I hesitated for a moment, contemplating whether to retreat or continue my exploration. Something compelled me to step inside, as if an invisible force was guiding me.

As I ventured deeper into the house, I noticed peculiar objects scattered around. Broken mirrors, shattered clocks, and black cats figurines. It was then that I realized this place was filled with superstitions, the very things I had dismissed as mere folklore.

Ignoring the uneasiness that crept up my spine, I stumbled upon a dusty bookshelf. Among the cobwebs and forgotten tomes, one book caught my eye. It seemed to radiate an otherworldly aura. Intrigued, I reached for it and opened it, revealing a collection of macabre stories.

My eyes fell upon a story titled "The Curse of the Mirror." As I began reading, a sense of dread washed over me. The story spoke of a mirror that possessed the power to show a person's darkest fears. Legend had it that anyone who dared to gaze into the mirror would be consumed by their own nightmares.

Intrigued yet apprehensive, I searched for the mirror described in the story. Eventually, I found it hidden beneath a tattered cloth in a corner of the room. It was an ornate mirror, its surface tarnished with age. Reflecting its surroundings, it seemed to hold secrets from another realm.

Compelled by an inexplicable force, I couldn't resist the temptation to gaze into the mirror. As I met my own reflection, a wave of terror washed over me. The room transformed into a nightmarish landscape, filled with grotesque creatures and twisted realities. I was trapped in a world where my deepest fears came to life.

Desperate to escape, I tried to turn away from the mirror, but it held me captive. The longer I stared, the more the horrors intensified. It was as if the mirror had become a portal to a dimension of pure terror. I screamed, hoping someone would hear my cries, but my voice was swallowed by the darkness.

Time lost all meaning as I battled my own demons within the mirror's clutches. Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months. I was trapped in an eternal nightmare, forever haunted by my own fears.

In the end, it was a stroke of luck that saved me. A passerby, drawn by the cries that had gone unnoticed for so long, stumbled upon the house. With an act of bravery, they shattered the mirror, breaking the curse that held me captive.

As I emerged from the shattered fragments, I vowed to never dismiss superstitions again. I had learned the hard way that sometimes, the things we deem irrational can hold a power beyond our understanding. And though I still don't believe in superstitions, I will forever carry the scars of that terrifying experience, a reminder that sometimes, there is more to this world than meets the eye.