the painting at the end of the hall

The painting at the end of the hall
Fear is all I see in my house of faces smiling faces laughing faces but worst of all is the painting at the end of the hall some days she smiles some days she scowls but always the painting at the end of the hall is the most evil one of all I feel it draw me toward it every day the painting at the end of the hall she has long dark hair and ruby lips the painting at the end of the hall this day she cries but it is fake tears she only wants me near sometimes she talks the painting at the end of the hall tells me she is not evil but she lies the painting at the end of the hall I feel fear of the painting at the end of the hall and she knows it the scariest days are when she is not in the painting at the end of the hall and I hear footsteps and dark evil laughter in the attic above my head it is usually night when she does it and it makes me cry for one day she will come for me and take me into the painting at the end of the hall one time I saw her come out of the painting at the end of the hall and she saw me and smiled and took a step to towards me her smile not of happiness but of dark menace and she wanted freedom and me I ran down the stairs to get away from the hall towards the door but it would not open and now she is at the stairs the lady from the painting at the end of the hall she walks down the stairs slowly to induce fear I moved to the kitchen passing more lifeless paintings none evil like the painting at the end of the hall when I reached the door I felt a hand on my shoulder
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I walked out of the room and saw the painting at the end of the hall a man he was an evil man then the evil man came out of the painting at the end of the hall I ran down the stairs towards the door but he caught me the man the evil man from the painting at the end of the hall
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I walked out the room and saw the painting at the end of the hall

THE END