Scream

It was a day in winter, just about to snow, and I couldn’t find the pen I had been given by Martin, the Dutch tourist, who had come to stay with us in summer. My first parker pen! I had opened every drawer, every cupboard in the house, even the one’s I wasn’t supposed to know about. I was worried about my forthcoming exams, but also excited about the prospect of going to college, as if I passed, rather when I passed. And I wanted to write my exam with that pen, my lucky pen! And I had opened the door to the guest room, and my scream had suddenly choked in to my throat, it was not the big spider hanging right at the door that was the reason, but what was in the room. I screamed, and not who, actually what was in the room, that was the reason for it .