Spooky Episode | Improve your English | English listening skills

Spooky Episode | Improve your English | English listening skills - Speaking skills

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@magicalbook6307 5 күн бұрын

Spooky Episode 👻 Hey there, it's Lily again. I’m back with another eerie tale, and let me tell you, this one still gives me chills. If you’re up for something spooky, get comfortable and listen closely. So, last weekend, I was house-sitting for my aunt while she was away on a trip. Her house is an old, creaky Victorian-style place, full of antique furniture and-how should I put this-a vibe. You know, the kind that feels like it’s straight out of a horror movie. On the first night, I was doing the usual-watching TV, scrolling through my phone, and trying not to let the creaking floorboards get to me. It was around midnight when I decided to head to bed. I turned off all the lights, locked the doors, and made sure everything was secure. As I lay in bed, trying to fall asleep, I started hearing a faint tapping sound. At first, I thought it was just the wind rattling the windows. But then it got louder, more persistent, like someone was tapping on the walls inside the house. I sat up, my heart racing. "Okay, it's just an old house," I told myself. "Old houses make weird noises." But as the tapping continued, I knew I had to investigate. Grabbing my phone for light, I nervously made my way down the hallway. The sound seemed to be coming from the attic. Now, I'm no fool. Every horror movie in the world has taught us that nothing good ever happens in the attic, but there I was, climbing those creaky old stairs, determined to find out what was causing that noise. ..... When I reached the attic door, the tapping stopped. My heart was pounding in my ears, but I mustered up the courage to slowly open the door. The attic was dark and filled with old, dusty furniture, covered in sheets. I shone my phone's light around the room, but nothing seemed out of place. Just as I was about to turn and leave, something caught my eye-a rocking chair in the corner, swaying gently back and forth, even though the room was completely still. I froze. My throat went dry, and my legs felt like they were glued to the floor. There was no breeze, no draft, nothing that could explain why that chair was moving. Suddenly, the tapping started again, louder this time, and it was coming from directly behind me. I whipped around, shining the light frantically, but there was no one there. My instincts kicked in, and I bolted out of the attic, slamming the door behind me. The next morning, I packed up and left early, no questions asked. When my aunt returned, I casually mentioned the noise, half-expecting her to laugh it off. Instead, she gave me a knowing look and said, "Oh, that old rocking chair? Yeah, it belonged to the previous owner. He used to sit up there every night… until he disappeared." Needless to say, I’ve never agreed to house-sit for her again. And sometimes, late at night, I still think about that attic. The tapping, the rocking chair… and I know, deep down, that some mysteries are better left unsolved.