I never did like basements. They were always dark and dingy, and you never knew what was lurking there. The windows were always small and never let in more than a thin ray of light. The basement in my old house was always dark and smelled of smoke. I never went down without a really good reason.

           When we moved to the new house, you could only reach the basement from a door at the back. I went to see the backyard the day after we moved and saw the door hidden behind an overgrown vine. I just stood there staring at it for a few minutes before I heard my mother calling me.

           "Devon! Could you come in please?!" I took one last look at the door before running around to the front of the house. "Did you know there's a door at the back?" I asked her, putting my elbows on the front railing.

           "It's just the basement," I froze. The door I had been staring at, was the door to the basement. "Actually, I need you to go down there and see if there are any extra boxes," my mother stared at me over the top of her glasses which had slid down her nose. She smiled at me and I swallowed hard.

           "Y-yes'm," I stuttered jumping off of the stairs.

           I slowly made my way to the back. This was not what I had expected at all. Having to go into the basement on my first real day in St.Albans, Vermont. I took a deep breath and walked right up to the door. Brushing away a few of the vines, I grabbed the knob and turned. The door creaked open. I shivered as I took one step in, and another, and another, until I was at the top of a staircase. This basement was also dark and smelt faintly of mold and dust. The stairs moaned as I made my way down. There was a small window high up in the wall on my left. It's light fell across a tiny door at the foot of the stairs. I hadn't noticed the small door until I was standing directly in front of it. A cool breeze blew through the open door at the top of the stairs. It whistled in my ears.

           "The door ... " It whispered. I looked down at the small door and a chill ran up my spine.

           "The door ... Open ... " The wind tickled the back of my neck. If I hadn't been so mesmerized by the door, I would have noticed the transparent, skeletal hands wrapped around my wrist. My hand was slowly moving towards the door.

           "Let ... me ... out!" The wind called. I touched the doorknob and pulled my hand away. I had finally regained my senses.

           "Hurry!" The wind howled, whipping my hair around.

           "Who's there?!" I yelled over the wind. My hands felt like ice. I rubbed them together to warm them. The ghostly hands around my wrist faded away. The wind began to die down until it was only a whisper. I looked down at the door and shivered ...