Earlier today, John and I were taking a walk in the outskirts of the town, when we saw an old house on top of a hill. I wanted to take a closer look at it, but John looked a little spooked, and mumbled something about not wanting to go there.
I convinced him that there was nothing to be afraid of, it's just an old house which haven't been occupied for a while, though I wasn't sure whether someone really was living there. We walked up the driveway, up to the house. It was huge. The place looked deserted, the grass wasn't mowed for ages, and everything was a mess. John chew nails like crazy, but I still wanted to check this place out.
The door was made of wood, and looked like it could fall apart any minute.
I tried to turn the door knob, but it fell off as soon as I touched it.
The knob rolled down the steps and kept on rolling down the driveway, and stopped by the fence.
That didn't make John feel any better at all. He looked like he had seen a ghost.
I took a deep breath, and pushed the door. It wouldn't budge an inch. ÃÂ«Help me outÃÂ», I said, but John kept chewing his nails. God knows why, there was nothing to be scared of. Or was it? I took a step backwards, and then kicked the door. It slowly slid open, and I went inside. ÃÂ«Wow! What a huge mansion we've got here!ÃÂ» John took a peek into the house, but didn't dare go inside.
There was a huge hall in the middle of the house, with staircases to my left and right. I went right ahead, towards a glass door in front of me. It wasn't locked,