"A Ghost from the book"
I was alone in the house, reading a scary ghost story as snow fell silently outside. The only sound was the ticking of my old grandmother clock. The dying fire cast an orange glow onto the walls of my study.
I was absorbed in the story when suddenly I began to feel that someone was watching me. The clock stopped ticking. I looked around but I could see no one. Was my mind playing with my?
Trying to ignore my intense fears, I returned to my book. After a few seconds, though, the book was knocked to the floor by an unseen hand. "Who's there?" I cried. I saw something standing in front of me that made my blood run cold. A shadow white ghost pointed a pale finger at me. Its mouth moved. "Come on, come on with me! It's time!" it said.
"What do you want?" I managed to ask, shaking with fear. The ghost took me by the hand and led me to the window. Just as we reached it, the clock struck twelve.
Mysteriously, I found myself back in my armchair, my book beside me. I looked around but only Samantha, my cat, was in the room, trying to make herself comfortable on my lap. "Where's the ghost?" I wondered, then laughed at myself. "I'd better stop reading ghost stories," I thought. But then I felt a cold wind blowing in through the now open window.