The second the school bell rang, Isadora Grey bolted down the hall.  Dodging doddering teachers and lingering students, she wove through the crowd and burst out into the chilly fall air.

“Isadora!  Isadora!  Wait!”

Groaning under her breath, Isadora stood at the edge of the lockers.  Normally, she would have been thrilled to see her friend Wren.  But today, she was in a hurry.

Because today, she was going to the Watkins’ house on Elm Street.  She would find out for herself what everyone was so afraid of.

“Isadora, where are you going?” Wren panted as she rushed over to Isadora.  “We’re supposed to go to the costume shop before Helen’s party, remember?”

“I can’t,” Isadora said, pretending she didn’t see the flicker of disappointment in her friend’s eyes. “I’ve got to go somewhere.”

“Where?” Wren whined, crossing her arms over her chest.

“I can’t tell you,” Isadora replied, wincing as her friend wailed.  “I’m serious!  You don’t want to know anyway.”

“I do want to know,” Wren insisted, curiosity replacing disappointment.  “Where are you going?”

“I can’t tell you,” Isadora repeated.  “You’d only try to stop me.”

Wren’s tiny black eyes narrowed.  “Now I really want to know.”

Isadora sighed.  Pulling her friend to the side, she whispered, “Promise not to tell?”

Wren nodded, her light brown hair bouncing above her shoulders.

“I’m going to the old house on Elm Street.”

“The Watkins’ house?” Wren gasped.  “You can’t go there!  Isadora, do you know the stories?  I mean, do you know what happens in that place?”

“No,” Isadora said, raising her stubborn porcelain chin.  “And neither do you.  That’s why I’m going in.  I want to see for myself what happens.”

“Isadora,” Wren hissed.  “No one that goes in that house comes out alive.”

“Well, that won’t happen to me,” Isadora replied confidently, ignoring the knot in her stomach.  “Listen, I may not make it to Helen’s party tonight.  So please tell my grandmother for me.  She’s expecting me after we go to the costume shop, and I’m not sure if I’ll get done before that…”

“You’ll be done, all right,” Wren replied grimly.  “You’ll be strung up and tortured by all sorts of vile, nasty creatures!  Your gizzards for garters, your heart for a necklace and your brains for some creature’s lunch.”

Isadora laughed, though the her heart was beginning to pound.  “Oh Wren.  You’re so dramatic.  I’ll see you at Helen’s party, ok?”

“I hope so,” Wren whispered, throwing her arms around her friend.  “Be careful, please?”

“I will.”  Isadora smiled.  “Don’t worry.  It’ll be like I was never gone.”

Tucking her dark hair behind her ears, Isadora slipped out of school and down the sidewalk.  The cool autumn wind cut through her light jacket, and she shivered as she hurried down the street.  Grey clouds stretched overhead, blocking out any hint of sunshine.  The bright fall leaves had already fallen, leaving bare tree limbs etched black against the sky and dark dead leaves that crunched with every step Isadora took.  Normally the streets were bustling with children and parents popping in the local shops and walking to and from school, but today, an eerie silence stretched over the neighborhood.

If Isadora had believed in omens, she would have never kept going.

But her feet continued to brush across the sidewalk as the dark brown leaves whispered around her feet.  A crow screeched to her left, an owl hooted towards her right.  Determined, she crossed over from Maple to Elm Street.  The wind grew colder and the sky grew blacker as she approached the Watkins’ house.

“That’s silly,” she muttered to herself, staring at the foreboding dark house on the corner.  “This is just my mind playing tricks on me.  There’s no reason this house should be scarier than any other.  It’s just stories, silly stories told by silly people.  Silly stories,” she repeated to herself.  “Silly stories…”

A white hand clamped down on her shoulder and she screamed.  Whirling around, she cursed when she saw her friend Wren standing meekly behind her.  “Scare me to death, why don’t you?” she snarled.  “You terrified me!”

Her friend scowled.  “If I scared you, you have no business going into that house,” she replied, pointing at the gloomy porch.

“Well, I am going,” Isadora snapped.  “What are you doing here?”

Her friend’s face paled.  “I just wanted to make sure everything went ok,” she said softly.  “You know, in case…”

Isadora gulped.  Plastering a smile on her face, she hugged her friend.  “Don’t worry.  I’m just going to peek inside.  I’ll be out in a jiffy.”

“If you say so,” her friend replied, her voice doubtful.

Biting her lip, Isadora turned toward the house.  Squaring her shoulders and straightening the straps of her backpack, she marched across the street towards the house.  With every step, the house seemed to grow larger and darker.  The closer she got, the more she could see the decay and disrepair of the old Watkins’ house.  Flies buzzed around rotting boards in the base of the porch as a rat scurried across the steps.  Weeds grew around the sidewalk like flowers and rotten boards glared at her from the sides of the house. A black cat hissed at her, then followed the rat. From the porch, she could hear the faint strains of an organ inside the house.  Carefully stepping onto the porch, she winced as the wood shrieked and groaned.

Taking a deep breath, she picked up the large brass hand and let it drop.  It smacked against the door, the sound ringing through the air.

The organ stopped immediately.  Wiping her sweaty hands on her skirt, Isadora concentrated on trying to hear her breathing over the pounding of her heart in her ears.  She could hear heavy footsteps plodding toward the door, something dragging the floor behind it.

Suddenly, the noise stop.  The door creaked open, barely an inch.

“Yes?”

Stay tuned, Invisible Friends!  Tomorrow we have a new recipe and Friday, a second part to our new character, Dallas Jean!  Then we have a new critter confessions and more fun!  Stay tuned!