There was always that cabin on the other side of the lake. It was sometimes a beautiful family, living among its strong, steady, structure. Or other times it was that kind of house that just gave you a feeling of fear inside. You would know not to be scared, but still have a fear about what it is housing. It was 1993, and I was driving out to the house. It seemed forever since I actually entered our large cabin. It was one of those things you loved the sound of, you loved being able to say that was one of your traditions. But there was always something pulling you away from it. 
I drove around the circled lake, and passed 7 or 8 houses. Then came that old, abandoned cabin. My car came to a stop. I wasn't sure why, so I  stepped out. I was only about 50 feet from the house. Not my own, but the spooky, unknown one. I walked with one foot at a time, until the stairs leading to the front door, sat shallow, in front of me. I took a deep breathe, and without a word being said, I took the 3 steps that brought me inside the house. Right before me, a few ghostly figures swept them selves fast across the room. Then behind me, the door flung shut. 



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