AN: Alright guys I had my classmates edit this. My teacher saw it and said they deserved extra credit for editing it, laugh out loud.
The Night Draws Ever Nearer
My dreams of Terror occur again last night, and I awake breathless. My heart is pounding. I am coated in sweat and I have a migraine. I get up and go to the bathroom. I wince as I turn the bathroom light on. Ugh, bad idea. It hurts my eyes and I can barely see. Nevertheless I look up at the mirror. I see a tan face, with dark blue eyes. I guess my dirty blonde hair is an average length. I run my hand through my hair. I don't fully realize what I am doing however, and end up ripping out part of my hair. Whoops. Screw that. I turn the hot water faucet so that that I can wash my face. No water comes on. I moan. This house is so old. Or maybe Dad just turned the water off. He does that sometimes, because my mother sleeps so loudly. Our water is controlled by a pump hat brings water from a well. But the way it is set up it whistles. I don't really understand my mother's illness. Dad is a doctor. My mother has been dying for the last five years. It started when I was five. Mom became so ill. I don't really remember it that well. I make my way down the stairs, trying to avoid the creaking. I succeed, for the most part, until I reach the last step. It is there that I stumble, and step on the stair that will creak the most. It lets out a loud grown, and I silently pray that it has not woken my mother. Normally I would not have made that mistake. But we only moved into this house two months ago. My family is continuously moving. Dad says it is because of mom's health, and I do what he says. I try to make my way across the dark kitchen, with limited success. I stumble and bump into the table and counter a few times. I grab a candlestick, because the cellar has no lights. I unlock and exit the back door, leaving it open. We live in the Midwestern United States. Our house is large, and the lot is several acres. I walk off of our large porch. The moon is full, and I can hear wolves howling in the forests at the edge of our lot. The wind rustles the bushes and I have an eerie feeling that I should not go down into the cellar. Why do the water pump and hot water heater have to be in the cellar? I walk around to the side of the house, where the trapdoor to the cellar is. I open the door to the cellar and descend the steps. I make sure to leave the cellar open. It's ridiculous that I have to come this far for water. I turn the knob on the pump. But I can't. The knob is stuck. I try to turn it again but nothing happens. Suddenly, the cellar trapdoor slams shut. I jump and turn around. The trapdoor is closed. Probably the wind. I walk across the cellar, and climb the rungs of the ladder. I push up on the trapdoor, but it won't budge. What? I push harder. I've only been down here once, but surely it wasn't this heavy. I hear a large scratching noise behind me. I turn around. From the dim candle light I can tell that the hot water heater has large scratches on it. What in the world? I turn back around, and am about to start pounding on the trapdoor, when a breath blows out my candle. I don't even have time to scream before my world goes black and I fall unconscious.
AN: So was it any good? Please comment! Don't worry, Harry Potter will be involved! This is just the prologue.