Narrative

Time was now our on our side. With the sun setting and the sky quickly changing to black, we prepared for our journey. It had long been said that the abandoned monastery in Glen Ellyn was haunted and that those who wandered the corroding halls would meet the after life. My friend Liz, who accompanied my best friend Jack and I, had heard from her sister that if you were in the halls late at night you would hear footsteps and screaming. On nights that there was nothing to do, kids older than us would go there and wander around looking for ghosts, and going up to the bell tower which stuck out so highly in the sky, to see the whole city and its lights. So like any curious sixteen year olds we had to experience it for ourselves. Waiting in the car were my friends Rob, Fabo, and Suzie. They were too spooked to go in.

We had another force besides the afterlife working against us that the older kids didn’t, the police. I guess the year before we made our attempt another kid from our city went in and broke his leg. Afraid of more lawsuits, the city had police patrolling the building at all times of day, and they added a fence directly around the building in hopes that it would keep us from entering.

. . .