HELP! YOUR CLASSMATE NEEDS TO CUT 500ish WORDS!!!!!
Lighthouse Graffiti My name is Elyse. I am 18-years-old. My house lies on the edge of Horseneck Beach in Westport Point, MA where I live with my parents and my twin brother Jack. Jack’s a best friend to me, besides my other close friend Jessie. We all just graduated from Westport High School. Jessie is my oldest friend. My brother’s two best friends are Austin and Brooke, who also all just graduated from their senior year. We are all so close and always have a good time together. We have for years. The four of us were so ready to live up our senior summer together.
It was the second week of summer when my boyfriend Andrew, of 8 months, came up with the idea of going on a senior campout to celebrate our graduation. We all decided to meet down at the southern sand dunes near my house after work that Friday night. We packed up all of our camping materials and the cooler full of food and headed out for our night of fun.
We all got situated, put up our tents and got our mini-portable grill going. The burgers we made were the best I had ever had. After dinner, we made the classic s’mores that had become a tradition at every campout, bonfire, or BBQ we spent together. Andrew turned on his radio so we could listen to some oldies while sitting by the fire.
After we cleaned up a little, we all lay in the sand, side-by-side, listening to the crashing of the waves mixed with the acoustic music, while watching the sun set over the pale tan dunes. Everything seemed so perfect; like this was how it was meant to be. I could not think of any other way to celebrate our accomplishments of graduating. I felt so happy. For me, just being outside under the stars, next to the fire with all of my best friends made me feel so alive. I felt so free. We all did.
Even though it began to get dark, the night for all of us was still quite young. Austin whipped out a deck of cards. As we played our games and listened to the music, Brooke lay beside our circle, watching the stars and the moon. She spotted six shooting stars. A little while passed. Brooke began to complain that the stars were getting more difficult to see with the clouds that were beginning to roll in…
It began to thunder violently off in the distance. The tremendous thunder raged and creped closer to Horseneck Beach. All of us piled into Andrew’s tent, which was the biggest of all of them. We huddled around to try and wait out the unexpected storm. The warm temperatures began to drop and we all started to get antsy. Austin wanted to go home. He was continuously saying, “It’s raining on our parade!”
The thunder stopped but the rain kept falling. It was not raining as hard, but they could no longer all sit in the tent. Jack thought it would be fun to go on a little hike around the dunes. That’s just was we did.
We walked down to the beach together, skipping in the puddles on shore and laughing. The rain almost made it more fun. We found a little trail that led to the point with was covered in a little pine grove. We followed the trail to investigate.
The trail led us right to an old abandoned light house. I had never seen this one before. It was small and looked like it was about to fall apart. Of course, all of us were full of energy and curiosity and decided to explore. We walked inside and found it to be filled with old furniture, paint buckets and a few old brushes on the floor. It was pitch-dark in the lighthouse. All of the windows were boarded up. Not one bit of light from the moon could shine through. It was dead silent. Suddenly, we heard a deafening crash from the other room. All of us sprinted out in panic.
Jack was missing! We began calling for him and looking around the lighthouse near the edge of the pines. The rain worsened and the moon was now completely hidden by the rain clouds. We were all starting to get nervous. Andrew tip-toed back into the lighthouse to see if Jack was inside. “I found him!” Jack had fallen through a collapsed hole in the floor in the back room. He was lying on the floor gasping in pain from a cut on his leg.
Andrew jumped into the caved-in hole and lifted him up. We pulled him out of the hole and Brooke examined his cut. Jessie and I grabbed Andrew’s hands and proceeded to pulled him up. Exhausted, Andrew leaned up against the walls of the lighthouse. Jessie pointed out that the crumbling walls were covered with graffiti. It was everywhere! We looked at some of the dates and the latest one we found was from 60 years ago. Andrew stepped back to read along with us. All sorts of colors covered the interior of the lighthouse.
Jack stood up to read the graffiti. He touched the wall with a finger. The moment the skin of his index finger hit the wall, we heard an ear piercing scream. We all dropped to the ground in a panic. The colorful graffiti we had been reading began to glow on the walls and we started hearing voices. Brooke whispered, “It looks like neon lights!” The voices were getting louder by the second. Austin said with a quiver in his voice, “Uhm, this place is haunted. Let’s get the hell outta here!” None of us believe in ghosts but we were all so baffled and shaken. All we wanted to do was just go home.
We all rose to our feet, helped Jack up and darted out of the lighthouse. We could hear the voices screaming behind us through the open door as we sprinted back down the trail through the pine grove. We ran back through the sand dunes, past the campsite, down the road and back to my house. It was still pouring rain.
We piled into my living room and flopped on the couches. Jack and Brooke were shaking. We woke up my parents. My mom in her bathrobe and my dad in his boxers, slowly walked down the stairs, puzzled as to why we were soaking wet sitting in their living room. They sat down and asked us what happened. Andrew began to tell the story of our adventure.
As Andrew finished the story, I noticed my dad’s face turning paler and paler. I asked him why he looked so nervous and what was on his mind. He began to tell us that he had been there when he was a young boy. He had gone for a walk with his friend and stumbled upon that same lighthouse. The friend he was with was in fact Austin’s dad. Austin was puzzled that his dad had never spoken of the lighthouse before.
My dad continued to tell his story. He and Austin’s dad had actually written something on the wall. He said that the moment the paint brush lifted off the cobweb-covered wall, the paint began to glow and they heard angry screams and ran out. He told us that every once-in-a-while he will have a dream about glowing graffiti. He wanted to go back but he was so petrified from his experience that he never did.
At this point, it was around three in the morning. Everyone was exhausted. We threw our cloths in the dryer and piled up stairs. My mom and dad went back to bed and we all crashed on my bedroom floor. We all fell asleep quickly.
The sun finally came up. It was Saturday morning. Without telling my parents, we decided to go back to the campsite and pack up and take one last quick trip to the lighthouse. Jack and Austin didn’t want to go...
Everything at the campsite was soaked from the rain and the fire was out. We threw everything in our backpacks and started to look for the lighthouse trail. We walked up to the creepy looking building in the pine grove and walked back in the already-open door.
We looked around at the walls and debris all over the floor. It was so dark even though the morning light was so intense. Austin and Andrew, in desperation for some light, pried a few of the boards from the windows. The moment the light shined into the room, the same ear-piercing scream they had heard the night before began! As more light came in through the windows, the screams began to fade. A fog leaked from the glowing graffiti as if it was burning. The graffiti then turned black.
It went quiet. I rose slightly from my ducked position. Brooke stood up with me. “We released ‘them’… whatever was trapped in here is now free.” A smile grew on everyone’s faces. We had never planned to help, but yet a blanket of accomplishment enclosed us all. We walked out of the lighthouse, closing the door behind us.
Lighthouse Graffiti
My name is Elyse. I am 18-years-old. My house lies on the edge of Horseneck Beach in Westport Point, MA where I live with my parents and my twin brother Jack. Jack’s a best friend to me, besides my other close friend Jessie. We all just graduated from Westport High School. Jessie is my oldest friend. My brother’s two best friends are Austin and Brooke, who also all just graduated from their senior year. We are all so close and always have a good time together. We have for years. The four of us were so ready to live up our senior summer together.
It was the second week of summer when my boyfriend Andrew, of 8 months, came up with the idea of going on a senior campout to celebrate our graduation. We all decided to meet down at the southern sand dunes near my house after work that Friday night. We packed up all of our camping materials and the cooler full of food and headed out for our night of fun.
We all got situated, put up our tents and got our mini-portable grill going. The burgers we made were the best I had ever had. After dinner, we made the classic s’mores that had become a tradition at every campout, bonfire, or BBQ we spent together. Andrew turned on his radio so we could listen to some oldies while sitting by the fire.
After we cleaned up a little, we all lay in the sand, side-by-side, listening to the crashing of the waves mixed with the acoustic music, while watching the sun set over the pale tan dunes. Everything seemed so perfect; like this was how it was meant to be. I could not think of any other way to celebrate our accomplishments of graduating. I felt so happy. For me, just being outside under the stars, next to the fire with all of my best friends made me feel so alive. I felt so free. We all did.
Even though it began to get dark, the night for all of us was still quite young. Austin whipped out a deck of cards. As we played our games and listened to the music, Brooke lay beside our circle, watching the stars and the moon. She spotted six shooting stars. A little while passed. Brooke began to complain that the stars were getting more difficult to see with the clouds that were beginning to roll in…
It began to thunder violently off in the distance. The tremendous thunder raged and creped closer to Horseneck Beach. All of us piled into Andrew’s tent, which was the biggest of all of them. We huddled around to try and wait out the unexpected storm. The warm temperatures began to drop and we all started to get antsy. Austin wanted to go home. He was continuously saying, “It’s raining on our parade!”
The thunder stopped but the rain kept falling. It was not raining as hard, but they could no longer all sit in the tent. Jack thought it would be fun to go on a little hike around the dunes. That’s just was we did.
We walked down to the beach together, skipping in the puddles on shore and laughing. The rain almost made it more fun. We found a little trail that led to the point with was covered in a little pine grove. We followed the trail to investigate.
The trail led us right to an old abandoned light house. I had never seen this one before. It was small and looked like it was about to fall apart. Of course, all of us were full of energy and curiosity and decided to explore. We walked inside and found it to be filled with old furniture, paint buckets and a few old brushes on the floor. It was pitch-dark in the lighthouse. All of the windows were boarded up. Not one bit of light from the moon could shine through. It was dead silent. Suddenly, we heard a deafening crash from the other room. All of us sprinted out in panic.
Jack was missing! We began calling for him and looking around the lighthouse near the edge of the pines. The rain worsened and the moon was now completely hidden by the rain clouds. We were all starting to get nervous. Andrew tip-toed back into the lighthouse to see if Jack was inside. “I found him!” Jack had fallen through a collapsed hole in the floor in the back room. He was lying on the floor gasping in pain from a cut on his leg.
Andrew jumped into the caved-in hole and lifted him up. We pulled him out of the hole and Brooke examined his cut. Jessie and I grabbed Andrew’s hands and proceeded to pulled him up. Exhausted, Andrew leaned up against the walls of the lighthouse. Jessie pointed out that the crumbling walls were covered with graffiti. It was everywhere! We looked at some of the dates and the latest one we found was from 60 years ago. Andrew stepped back to read along with us. All sorts of colors covered the interior of the lighthouse.
Jack stood up to read the graffiti. He touched the wall with a finger. The moment the skin of his index finger hit the wall, we heard an ear piercing scream. We all dropped to the ground in a panic. The colorful graffiti we had been reading began to glow on the walls and we started hearing voices. Brooke whispered, “It looks like neon lights!” The voices were getting louder by the second. Austin said with a quiver in his voice, “Uhm, this place is haunted. Let’s get the hell outta here!” None of us believe in ghosts but we were all so baffled and shaken. All we wanted to do was just go home.
We all rose to our feet, helped Jack up and darted out of the lighthouse. We could hear the voices screaming behind us through the open door as we sprinted back down the trail through the pine grove. We ran back through the sand dunes, past the campsite, down the road and back to my house. It was still pouring rain.
We piled into my living room and flopped on the couches. Jack and Brooke were shaking. We woke up my parents. My mom in her bathrobe and my dad in his boxers, slowly walked down the stairs, puzzled as to why we were soaking wet sitting in their living room. They sat down and asked us what happened. Andrew began to tell the story of our adventure.
As Andrew finished the story, I noticed my dad’s face turning paler and paler. I asked him why he looked so nervous and what was on his mind. He began to tell us that he had been there when he was a young boy. He had gone for a walk with his friend and stumbled upon that same lighthouse. The friend he was with was in fact Austin’s dad. Austin was puzzled that his dad had never spoken of the lighthouse before.
My dad continued to tell his story. He and Austin’s dad had actually written something on the wall. He said that the moment the paint brush lifted off the cobweb-covered wall, the paint began to glow and they heard angry screams and ran out. He told us that every once-in-a-while he will have a dream about glowing graffiti. He wanted to go back but he was so petrified from his experience that he never did.
At this point, it was around three in the morning. Everyone was exhausted. We threw our cloths in the dryer and piled up stairs. My mom and dad went back to bed and we all crashed on my bedroom floor. We all fell asleep quickly.
The sun finally came up. It was Saturday morning. Without telling my parents, we decided to go back to the campsite and pack up and take one last quick trip to the lighthouse. Jack and Austin didn’t want to go...
Everything at the campsite was soaked from the rain and the fire was out. We threw everything in our backpacks and started to look for the lighthouse trail. We walked up to the creepy looking building in the pine grove and walked back in the already-open door.
We looked around at the walls and debris all over the floor. It was so dark even though the morning light was so intense. Austin and Andrew, in desperation for some light, pried a few of the boards from the windows. The moment the light shined into the room, the same ear-piercing scream they had heard the night before began! As more light came in through the windows, the screams began to fade. A fog leaked from the glowing graffiti as if it was burning. The graffiti then turned black.
It went quiet. I rose slightly from my ducked position. Brooke stood up with me. “We released ‘them’… whatever was trapped in here is now free.” A smile grew on everyone’s faces. We had never planned to help, but yet a blanket of accomplishment enclosed us all. We walked out of the lighthouse, closing the door behind us.