The Fletchers | Teen Ink

The Fletchers

March 12, 2020
By ReddRyDog37, Jackson, New Jersey
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ReddRyDog37, Jackson, New Jersey
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Favorite Quote:
¨Zooweemama.¨ - Rowley Jefferson


Author's note:

The characters in the story are based on people I know in real life.

The author's comments:

No.

Ever since I was a little boy, I had always heard stories of a group of mean, disgusting gremlins who lived in the basement of an abandoned rundown mansion known as the Fletcher house. It is called this because the old couple who used to live in the house were the Fletchers. They were a happy, run of the mill couple, until the day Mr.Fletcher died. As the tale goes, Mrs.Fletcher never got over the death of her husband and went to a witch to bring her husband back from the dead. Apparently, the only way to bring him back was to become a goblin. She supposedly turned into a goblin and lived in the decrepit basement. Everyone in the small town of Duey, Pennsylvania believed this story of the Fletchers. After all, when there is nothing but woods for miles, you have to have something interesting about your town! Nearby places like Chunningburg has Funtown U.S.A., Huntingburg has rivers, Exburg has an arcade, and we have a haunted house. If you ask me, we pulled the short straw on this one. The only reason that I like this town this that everyone knows each other and is very close. This is sort of a problem because you can find it hard to avoid someone you don’t like. The main reason I would never want to move to this town is my friends. With only ten people in my junior class, it’s pretty easy to make close friends, but I’m not friends with everyone. The mayor's son, for one, is a stuck up, cocky, boy who nobody likes. We have all tried to make amends to get in close with Mr.Butters for his money and power, but the kid is just too annoying. Also, the girls have their group and we have ours. Almost every day, the boys and I meet up in our secret hideout we built in first grade, we call Base. I know….creative. We call ourselves the “Republic of Djibouti” because we all thought the name Djibouti was funny, as well as their funny looking president. The girls are clearly not as good, as they don’t even have a name. We had a few prank wars, but that was years ago. Now, we never interact outside of school because they say that they are “too grown-up” and that “we should mature.” We are a diverse group of boys; Benson is the jokester of the group. He is 5’8 and slightly overweight. He has glasses and is of Mexican descent. Benson is fluent in Spanish, which is great because he helps me with my Spanish homework. Whenever you are feeling down, you can always count on Benson to cheer you up. Then there is Jak. He is 6’9 and over 300 pounds. When you first meet him, you may think he is tough and mean, but he is a very kind soul who would never hurt a fly. Next is Johnny. Johnny is 6’0 and has muscles on muscles. When he’s not with us, he is either working out in his basement or talking to girls. While he is the best looking out of all of us, he’s not the smartest. I don’t think he has ever handed in homework! Last, is Jason. Jason is the complete opposite of Johnny. He is an African American intellect who not only does his own homework but who also does Johnny’s every day. He is 5’4 and overweight. He is also a massive gamer and is probably going to be a successful doctor or scientist one day. Then there is me. I’m 5’6 and weigh 130 pounds. I’d like to think I'm very well rounded. I am the only member of my friends with a job, but I also love video games, working out, wrestling, and reading. I am extremely easy to get along with and will probably agree with what you say. Well, enough about us, let's get back to the story.
One morning, when we were in English class, Johnny leaned over quietly and whispered,
“We are all going to the Fletcher house later….are you are coming?” I was surprised and scared all at once. I had always had a curiosity about what was really going on with the Fletcher house.
“Sure,” I responded. After agreeing to go, I had that weird feeling in my stomach that you get when you know you messed up but was too scared to speak up. I was someone who loved horror movies and haunted houses, but that was because I knew it was all fake. This, I believe, was real. Although I didn’t believe the part of the story involving the witch and goblins, I did believe that the Fletchers were two people who actually died in that house and their bodies were never found. Every second of English class that day felt like ten! After English, I had Forensics class, and Officer Smith (the only police officer in our town) came to speak about what to do in the case of an emergency. He was Jak’s dad and had a big personality. Forensics went by pretty quickly as I found what Officer Smith had to say to be quite interesting. Before class ended, I awkwardly walked up to Officer Smith and asked, “Do you know what actually happened at the Fletchers House?” Officer Jones’ eyebrows raised as he sternly said,
“Stay away from that place.” I was shocked and replied, “I was just curious.” When the bell finally rang, I tried to act as if nothing was wrong. The boys didn’t catch on that I was a basket full of nerves. We headed for the bus home, and I squeezed in my three-seater, listening to the conversation.
“We should go at night,” Johnny said.
“I can't. I have a book club,” replied Jason.
“Fine,” blurted Johnny.
“We’ll meet at Base at two,” Benson said.
“Sounds good,” I confidently replied. My bus stop was the first and I stood up to get off. I told the boys I’d see them later. I got the mail, busted through the house front door, and did my homework, all while thinking about what I had gotten myself into. After procrastinating, I somehow got the courage to grab my bike and head to Base. When I got to Base, I was thirty minutes late and everyone looked annoyed.
“Finally,” Johnny yelled. It wasn’t until we left in a hurry that I noticed that Jak was not there. When I asked Jason where he was, he proposed the theory that Jak probably chickened out. Jak did always bail out on scary movie nights, I remembered. After a few minutes of biking and joking around, we had arrived at the Fletcher’s place. We looked up at the vines, weeds, and moss covering the entire three-story tall building. For a few minutes, we stood frozen, staring at the vegetation-ruined front door. Finally, without any words, we all took a step towards the run-down mansion. Slowly, I grabbed and twisted the disgusting doorknob, followed by a push of the door. The door made a very loud creaking noise. I stepped into the house only to see nothing but complete darkness. Luckily, I had my flashlight and was able to see very old, dusty furniture and a huge spiral staircase in the center as you walk in. I turned back to check in with the guys only to see that the door was completely shut with nobody inside with me. I tried to bust out the door, but it wouldn’t budge!
“This isn’t funny, guys!” I screamed. I was extremely scared and angry. I ran around the abandoned mansion looking for a window, door, or anything I could escape out of. I checked the presumably haunted bedrooms, bathrooms, hallway, upstairs and living room. What did I find? Nothing. There was no way out. I had no choice, but to go look down in the basement. I took a big breath and started down the steep steps leading to the basement. As I slowly continued down the steps, I heard a slight voice. The deeper I went down, the louder the voice got! As I found my footing on the final step, the voice was clear. It was the local news. I followed a light and as I turned the corner, I saw a lightly lit room that had everything you could possibly need to live. There was a bed, television, kitchen, bathroom, and even a bright red recliner. Next to the recliner was a frail, elderly woman in a wheelchair. She was turned around and had caught eyes with me.
“Come here boy,” requested the woman. Without thinking I walked over and stood next to her. She offered her hand and introduced herself as Jenny Fletcher. She asked my name and I told her. I apologized for being there and she asked me to sit down beside her, so I did. She started to tell me how Officer Smith and Jak took care of her after the death of her husband. Living upstairs brought back too many memories of her husband, but she didn’t want to sell the house as it was all she had left of her husband. We talked for hours about how the Smith’s helped her move downstairs and about the memories of her wonderful marriage. Soon, Jak and Officer Smith entered the house and came downstairs with bags of groceries and gallons of water. They were both startled when they saw me that they both jumped and hit their heads on the ceiling. They told me to leave and not to tell anyone, so I promised I wouldn’t. I said my goodbyes to Mrs. Fletcher and walked up to the seemingly endless set of stairs to the front door, which miraculously was somehow now unlocked. I was surprised to see it was pitch black out and my watch said it was 11:00 PM. I rode home on my bike like a lightning bolt, knowing my parents were not going to be happy with me. But I knew that I had to tell them my story. How could they punish me? I made an amazing discovery and met a woman with a world of memories to share. I’m still unsure why Officer Smith and Jak are trying to cover her up and do not want the town to know the real truth. There must be a reason that I’ll have to find out...



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