Three Journeys of the Scary Kind

by Philip R Benge

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  “Millie, are you awake yet, it`s time for breakfast, Oh and the car is working again, I don`t know why, but this morning it`s purring like a pussy cat.” Her father shouted threw the old panelled door.

  Millie slowly opened her eyes and looked about her, she was lying on the wooden floorboards with a headache, and as she stood up, she found that she also had a sore ankle.

  “It was all a dream.” Millie muttered. “I must have fallen out of my bed and hit my head and somehow twisted my ankle; oh I need a Paracetamol or something.”

  As she dressed she didn`t see the locket lying empty under the wooden bed, or that the angels carved into the bedstead now appeared to be smiling. What a surprise she got one week later when a package came through the post addressed to her, for inside was a note from the hotel manager about having found the locket in the room that she had slept in on that very stormy night, and he had sent the locket on to her.

  The End

  Sucked Through a Wormhole