A Personal Narrative-Portrait Of Benjamin Franklin And Frederick Douglas

It was raining heavily, the sky turned stygian and the only thing that could be heard was the rumble of thunder. We ushered to a nearby store to buy necessary items. While I was paying at the counter, a young girl of about the age of James, asked me if we were new here, because she hadn't seen us and asked where were staying , her face went pale and I could see she got goose bumps, when I told her we were staying in #7777.

She could not speak anymore and suddenly went cold, I immediately called the manager and store's staff escorted her to another room.

It was very strange to happen.We went home

Engrossed in some thought James started to dust off the furniture as soon as we reached home. The rain had stopped and the sky was clear, the rooms were filled with light again. After we cleaned the hall, we headed towards the study and started to clean there, I felt being watched all the time, every time I turned back, there was nothing, just the empty space and James looking out of the window and around the room while doing his chore.
After a few hours, we were finished cleaning. We started to rootle around in the library. I was amazed to see the books, lying untouched, all in good condition, they were all first edition books, books from the Dicken's era and so many other books.

James was searching for books on architecture and surprisingly he found one and a big lot of them, all numbered from 1 to 5.

Then we came to the first floor, I was scared to go there after the toy soldier escapade. I didn't dare to step