Terror on the Farm My name is Christine Anne Watson and I like to tell stories. I like to tell suspenseful stories, comedy, tragedy and even romance. I love stretching the truth, that’s one of best things. I can think of anything out of my head. I think that’s a rather cool talent. I’m going to tell you a story. Once upon a time my sister Natalie, myself, and our four friends Lyle, Nathan, Trace and Chris took a drive out to our old farm house. We all rode in my sister Natalie’s truck. We were so close together you could smell the tawdry cologne the person next to you was wearing. The cologne had such a flagrant smell that it gave me a headache. When we finally arrived it was so dark and black that it was hard to delineate what was in front of us. Good thing the house was white or we might have not been able to see it. My sister had to go around to the front of the house and stick her hand through a broken glass in the door where the house had been broken into years before. Walking through the door I had already planned ways to guile the boys. As we walk in the boys noticed some quandary things about the house. The kitchen’s decadence frightened them. It was nasty, dead flies everywhere. Chris was a very ungainly guy. He was also very feminine. He didn’t like nasty things so I tried to admonish him about the dead flies. The house was in such a wreck because, after we moved out of the house some dirty people moved in. They destroyed it. We were trying to make our way to the room where Natalie once slept. As we approached the room and opened the door, the room had dark red carpet, the color of blood, and that made the guys writhe in terror. The room was filled with old mattresses the guys were afraid that something was in the room with us. As we wandered from room to room in the house you could smell and old musty smell. It reminded you of a campfire. My sister reminded us all that this house has no heating and air. Everyone who has every lived in this house has heated it with wood. She told us about how in the winter nights the family would move the mattresses to the living room where the wood heater was located. They all slept in the living room Dad, Mom and kids. It actually sounded kind of cool like a big sleep over. Natalie said it was cool, so cool there was ice on the inside of the windows. The guys ask if she was ever afraid living in this old house. That’s when things really got scary. Natalie told us how our grandmothers’ real mother died in that house. She had a thyroid problem and had tumor on her thyroid. The tumor grew so big that it cut off her airway and she suffocated to death one night right there in front of our grandmother. Our grandmother was only seven years old and her sister was four. This made the guys only more scared. They were ready to leave and quickly started making there way back to the truck. As we started back to the truck which was parked in the back of the house we were almost to the truck when we heard something let out a loud pitiful moan. It almost sounded like something or somebody was hurt. The guys almost killed themselves trying to get in the truck Natalie and I started to laugh. The guys couldn’t decide what was so funny. They weren’t even interested in finding out. It actually was something pretty funny . What they had heard was cows in the pasture beside the house. We laughed all the way home that night. The guys never saw the humor in any of this. However, Natalie and I thought it was hilarious. We get a lot laughs every time we tell the story. Terror on the farm should really be called cows on the farm. City boys just never quite make the grade when it comes to survival in the country.