“The mushy earth sank as they walked along through the swamp. The wind could be heard rustling through the thick leaves, dangling from trees covered with moss and fungus, towering high above them. This is were they had planned to stop, it was late and they were all exhausted from the walking so they went without dinner and started to set up tents. It was then that they heard it, a soft, sweet melody singing throughout the entire swamp. It was so wonderful that they started to walk towards the direction it seemed to be coming from. They continued to follow the sound until they reached a river flowing smoothly through the rocks by which it was surrounded.

All at once the music stopped and they saw upon the rocks a peculiar sight, a harp. Then the harp immediately started to play again, but it was not the smooth and soft melody that had been playing before, it was a hard, bitter song that struck them as hard as a baseball on a cold winter day. They were suddenly seized upon in their startled hesitation by gnarled roots and dry hands that shot up from the ground, then they heard the cackling and saw the man. Considered a legend, and had been dead for a long time. It was real though, and the ghost that while alive had been a professional harp player, considered the best until his mysterious murder and his body found in this swamp, the ghost of the harp, had finally caught his murderers.” My name is Jack and that is my favorite ghost story; little did I know that it soon become similar to my own story.

It was a gloomy day with nothing to do except watch the rain pelt the window. “TAP, TAP, TAP.” Finally I went downstairs to watch the TV, one minute too late, my dad had started watching a Packers vs. Jets football game, how lame is that, I mean, that has got to be the most boring day I have ever experienced! I decide to go and play my game boy and just as I start up the stairs, my dad saw me and called to me and said, “Hey! Want to come and watch the game with me?” I replied, “Nah, I don’t feel like it today.” He said ok and I went upstairs to find out that the batteries to my game boy were dead, “Dang it! Now the day just got worse!” Then I saw my friend Benny riding his bike towards my house, Benny and I had known each other since kindergarten and I guess you could say that we were best friends. We did everything together and there was not a single adventure that one of us took without the other, he was a tall boy, unlike me.

I had swung the door open even before Benny had rang the doorbell, like usual. He asked if I wanted to go to the swamp, I went and asked my dad if I could and he grunted in acknowledgment so I went and grabbed a pack filled it with food and drinks and of course snacks. Then we left and I grabbed my bike, it felt so good to ride through the rain even though it was just a sprinkle now. We called the swamp a swamp because it was always so damp and the ground always sank as you walked on it like a swamp, then I thought, like the swamp from the story! It was actually called the woods but we never call it that.

We reached the swamp finally and then, this is where it all started, just Benny, me, and the swamp. We put our bikes down and walked into the swamp, what was about to happen within these trees that Benny and I were totally oblivious to would change our lives forever… if we even lived through it that is. We were walking straight into a trap set up just perfectly waiting for us. Incidentally enough, it had bee waiting for over three hundred years… three hundred years ago, my Great-Great-Great Grandfather had been murdered and his body found in… this swamp.
We went exploring for a long time, so long that by the time we checked our watches, it had been three hours since we left and we still decided to keep exploring. Sadly enough, when we decided it was time to go back, we couldn’t remember where back was. We were lost. Then it happened, we heard a soft music coming from far off we were so entranced by it that both of us just in a trance walked towards the source of the music. Before long we found… a river surrounded by rocks, just like in the story, and just like where my Great-Great-Great Grandfather was murdered. Then we saw a harp on top of one of the rocks, “Run!” I screamed, but too late, the harp started playing the awful music and we were actually lucky enough to dodge all of the hands reaching out for us and we looked back up to where the harp was and saw none other than the ghost murderer, standing beside his harp. I was able to draw a clue that my ancestor had murdered him so he wanted to destroy my entire family, and Benny’s family too, his ancestor had helped. So here we were and we ran away like a mad cow trying to escape mad cow disease. We made it and we decided not to go back into that swamp again… ever.