Thomas stood on the doorstep, staring at the large green oak door. The paint was fading, and the whole door was starting to fall off of its hinges. The frame looked as though it was holding on to the door for its own life. A small gust of wind pushed past the small group of eleven year old boys and for a moment Thomas wondered if it was going to push the entire house over.

“Come on Thomas, you can’t be that scared of this old house.” Roy knudged Thomas in the side with his elbow. Thomas flinched as his stomach turned over.

“I’m not scared.” Thomas retorted. He took a deep breath and moved towards the concrete steps leading up to the door. Memories of rumors about the house flooded his mind. _Alex the Axe Murderer, Satanic rituals, Mrs. Harris his second grade teacher_ he wondered if all of them might actually be inside. Mindlessly his feet carried him up the steps, his hands curling in to fists as he reached the door. He needed to keep his head calm as to apear cool to Roy, as much as he hated the idea of entering this old run down house he wanted to lead the group on this daring adventure and be the hero that did so.

“Are we sure this is a good idea?” Mark piped up from behind Roy. “I mean,” He stuttered, “there are only three of us, and who knows what could be lurking behind that door.”

“Not you too.” Roy groaned. “We said we were going to go on adventures this summer, school starts tomorrow and we have not done one adventerous thing.” Thomas knew Roy was right, they had all agreed to a sense of adventure this summer, that was their summer motto, but this was not the type of adventure he had in mind. He wanted to go float the Boise River, or camping, not explore the town’s OSHA violation. The house had stood here, abandonded, since he was born, and everyone wanted to see it demolished and yet the town did nothing about it, it was like there was some force that stopped every effort to take it down.

The bickering faded to the back of Thomas’s mind as he reached for the door handle, his heart seemed to almost beat out of his chest. This was it. It seemed as though there was no turning back now. The brass handle was hot to the touch in the late summer afternoon sun. He took a deep breath and turned the handle, but to his suprise it did not turn. Locked. He sighed a sense of relief.

“Well,” Roy chitted, “open it.”

“It’s locked, Roy.”

“Well then, let’s find another way in.” Roy pushed past Mark and down the steps. Mark and Thomas remained on the porch staring at the large green door. There was something about this house that seemed to call to Thomas, a call that he wanted to refuse.

“Roy!” Mark shouted. “It’s locked for a reason, we should just go play video games or something.” Roy was already around the corner of the house. “What do you think Thomas?”

“He probably wont find another way in and then, yes, let’s go play video games.” Thomas hoped he was right. He then turned to follow Roy with Mark close behind him. Upon rounding the corner of the house they found Roy staring down at two cellar doors that looked as warn down as the front door. A devilish grin stretched across his face. Thomas knew in an instant that this was the way they were getting in to the old house.

“Bingo!” Roy yelled.

“Not so loud!” Mark yelled just as loud. “Remember, we are not supposed to be here. If our parents found out we were doing this they would kill us, or even worse, the cops…”

Thomas and Mark came to stand next to Roy. He reached down and pulled up on the doors which opened without resistance. The smell of old musty water wafted from the pitch black abyss. The three boys stood there frozen, waiting for one of them to move. Thomas, knowing this was his chance to show his leadership took a step down on to the first cellar step.

“There!” Mark exclaimed. “We did it, we entered the house. Can we go now?”

“Not yet idiot.” Roy spat. “We said we would _explore _the house.” Thomas continued down in to the cellar followed by Roy and Mark. A small square of light surrounded their feet illuminted by the open cellar doors. The surrounding darkness seemed to engulf everything around them. Thomas squinted in to the darkness attempting to adjust his eyes to whatever might be looming. BAM! The boys were now completely surrounded in darkness. “What the fuck?” Roy shouted.

“Roy!” Mark yelled back, “Don’t swear.” Thomas whirled around and squinted through the dark mist to see the cellar doors had slammed shut. Roy darted back to the doors and pushed up against them with his shoulder but they would not budge. They were stuck.

“Well,” Roy said, huffing for breath making his way back down the stairs. “Only one way out of here now.” He seemed calm despite the boys now being locked in the cellar of the old house. Thomas, again, trying to stay calm as to appear cool for Roy. Mark grabbed on to Thomas’s arm.

“The cellar doors didn’t have a lock on them.” Mark whispered. “Someone must have put something heavy over the doors or locked them some how.” Thomas was curious as to how or why someone would have locked them in the cellar but didn’t want to accept the fact that that might be the case. He shook his head. Glancing around the cellar his eyes were now adjusted and he could clearly see everything was draped in white cloth. Thomas moved forward in to the cellar leaving Mark’s grasp. He reached for a white cloth pulling it off the object which it sat sending dust flying through the air and revealing a grand piano in its place. Roy, now feeling the sense of adventure he had always wanted start to scout around the basement as well.

“Look at all this stuff!” Roy exclaimed. Mark stayed close to Thomas’s side as he weaved through piles of old and forgotten items, boxes of vinyls, old magazines, dusty furniture. The boys wandered in the basement for no more than a moment when a large crash could be heard from the corner.

“Hello?” Thomas cried out instinctively. Mark grabbed on to his arm again, this time tighter than before. There was no response, just a small stirring noise coming from the corner. Roy slowly made his way over to the center of the room where Thomas, and Mark stood staring at the corner. Through the darkness Thomas could see a small figure stand up and stare at the boys. No one moved. No one made a sound. The three boys and the figure just stood staring at each other. Then the figure spoke.

“Hi.” It was a small voice, one of a child, no older than eight. He sounded scared.

“Who are you?” Roy barked.

“I don’t know.” The voice sheepishly replied.

“You don’t know who you are?” Roy sounded sterner than before. The small figure took a step forward towards the group but Roy was quick to hiss back, “don’t come closer.”

“I… I…” The young boy stuttered. “I don’t know where I am.” He muttered.