This is my favorite scary story to tell to children on Halloween. The trick is to tell it in first person and make it sound as if it really happened. If you decide to use it, be sure to embellish it (this is the bare-bones version) and change some of the details to make it seem more realistic for your own situation. So, as they say on my favorite storytelling podcast, it’s story time!
When I was about 12 years old, I went to summer camp with my best friend, Becca. While we were riding to camp on the bus, we saw an old abandoned house kind of off the road a bit. Another kid on the bus said the house was haunted. That was enough for Becca. She set her mind on going to see for herself. I really didn’t want to go, but I also couldn’t let Becca go by herself. What if she got lost or hurt? So, when she woke me up in the middle of the night, I agreed to go with her.
It took us about half an hour to get there. Luckily, we both had flashlights, and there was a lot of light from the full moon. When we got there, nothing looked out of the ordinary…it was just an old, abandoned house. Of course, Becca had to check it out. So, we went up the creeeaaaaky stairs. The door wasn’t even locked, so we just pushed it open. Everything was dark inside. There was some old, dusty furniture. We looked around a little, and then Becca saw the stairs…so naturally, up she went, with me following.
Here is where it gets weird. There was a dim light coming out from the door at the end of the hall. Slowly, we walked toward the door. Slowly again, Becca opened the door. And do you know what was inside? A glowing, empty coffin! It was upright, and the lid was open! That was freaky enough, but then it started to move toward us. We both screamed and ran for the stairs. The coffin followed us! We ran through the living room and into the kitchen…the coffin was still coming! There was no door in the kitchen; we were trapped. In desperation we opened the cupboards and started throwing things at the coffin…bowls, plates, cups…but the coffin kept coming! It was only a few feet away when I grabbed an old bottle of cough syrup. I threw it as hard as I could, and do you know what? That cough syrup stopped the coffin (get it? coffin-coughing?).
Always a hit!