The Painting

THE gloomy museum had been in town for over 100 years. Not even the sun shining through the windows could help illuminate the dark rooms.

Jack was one of the few people in the art museum.

He was walking through the room which had all the strange paintings in it.

One picture was of a witch that was so well drawn it looked real.

Jack turned round to see another painting but out of the corner of his eye he saw one of the witch’s eyes twitch. He was sure it had moved.

When he first saw it, the eyes had been looking at the floor, now they were looking at him. Wherever he went the eyes seemed to follow him. Then, very slowly, the witch began to grin showing off her foul, pointy teeth.

Jack then knew it was time he should run. He sprinted out of the room, down the stairs and out of the door. Then

Jack knew what was wrong. The witch was never in the painting in the first place. When he went to the museum last month, the witch wasn’t there.

It was 8pm and Jack was convinced he imagined it. He moved over to the window one which overlooked the street. There was a strange thing crawling around outside.

It was looking in the windows, searching for something. Then the thing looked up and saw him. It smiled that horrible smile and ran towards the window. Jack heard the noise of the window smash he ran to his cupboard and waited.

He heard the witch’s irregular footsteps coming up the stairs. Jack was terrified. The witch opened the door. She raced around the room looking for him. Then she slowly turned and smiled at the cupboard.

Jack was never seen again. THE END