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There was a young girl who lived in a dark, old, Creeky house. She was pale of color, and red eyes that made people shutter.
Some say whom ever goes in..... Shall never come out.
She lived upstairs starring at souls, whispering secrets that should never be told.
It needed painting, She said, But not just any paint why not the blood of the souls she murdered......
She wished for a new house, Yes one more grand, dark like the night sky one she would have more..... Fun in.
There were many memories in that old, dark house, Memories of all the souls she murdered through out the night. She will miss that house, that dark, old, creeky house.
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