the dark parts of the bottom of the house the creepy blackness of the room its known as the basement. i will not harm you only if you scream. now run screaming and hope that you can run fast enough
I love my old basement.. it was full of mold. mold mold mold everywhere. I made it into a secret base by hanging up my sheets. It sat down there to write and draw, but eventually the mold got to me and I had to leave. but still, it made me feel safe.
The basement is dark in my opinion.
I think there should be tons of light sparkling lights like every where down there.
I don’t believe in ghosts so I’d say that I’d want a room in the basement cuz it’s so big usually.
There is too much stuff in my basement. My dad uses an entire room to store his books and papers. We really need to clean that room out before my parents move into a new house. It is going to be a lot of work.
i hear the footsteps .
haunting.
they echo inside as they
come closer.
descending the stairway
as deep as they can go.
lurking in the corners.
like spiderwebs,
long forgotten.
The microphones picking up feedback. The hundreds of kids pilling into the singer and his guitar screaming their favorite words into the air. The entire place shook madly as the aging frontman sang his most popular song with the entirety of the crowd. How those words, now ancient, must have taken him back to his glory days- huge clubs with thousands in attendance. But it was only now with the truth the dedicated fans brought that this “rock star” could find happiness. Even he knew his days were numbered. He would ride his sinking ship straight into the basements and dive bars of the world, even if it meant coming home empty handed.
It’s cool down there. Cool as in not warm. We used to play hide and go seek in the dark in the basement. Then we would put pillows in the window and make it darker. We used to make forts and almost killed ourselves on the cement floor. It seems a lot of people did this as children. This is lame. My writing is lame.
my bedroom is the only one in the basement. some nights i turn on all our christmas lights and have a dance party. two floors above me, everyone sleeps until they get up for work.
In the basement she stood looking up at the staircase. It smelled moldy down here and she didn’t like the dank sounds the shadows made. She knew they weren’t going to simply let her get out of here but why the challenge had to be so cliche she didn’t understand. She had never been one of the kids that were afraid of the dark basement, because her bedroom had been in the basement and what had truly been frightening was what was upstairs: her parents.
I could feel the shivers racing up my spine, the cold concrete sapping the warmth from my feet. The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end as I nervously searched the dimly lit basement for the papers. The ones that would free me if only I could find them in time.
It was pretty typical as basements go. Dark, musty, with something dripping off to the left. She tried to squirm out of whatever was holding her hands together but didn’t have any luck. Typical.
When i was younger i was always afraid to go down into the basement. my mom would stand on the top of the stairs and when i got scared, i would yell ‘ are you there?’ and she’d respond with ‘yes dear.’ to this day everytime i have to go down to the basement, i turn on all the lights and sprint down and up the stairs in an effort to not be down thhere as long
I used to fucking blow wow in my moms basement, it used to be my dads “office” before they got divorced and he moved down the street, see I am white and my parents are well off. So i am a teenager, in a 750,000 dollar house in the basement, kind of trashing the place, with a couch/computer chair, a long table and a desk to just play wow 24/7 on.
Basement can hold the hidden. Basement can hide ur feelings ur treasures. Basement gives u a sense of safety, a measure of reliability, silently it gives u comfort. U can live there forever.
Brick patterns, musty, and folded blankets. We like the sun streaming in our faces and even though dust kicks up in our eyes we take a deep breath and delve into history.
There is a basement in a barrel. The very bottom. The end of existence. The journey to the end. There is a basement in our hearts. The very bottom. The basis of our existence. The journey to discovering us. Is my basement the end?
A basement is somewhere that I find to be dark and dreary. One could do many things with a basement, however to me it will always be that creepy place I remember from my childhood. The place where creaky noises come from, the weird light glowing under the door adn the loud sounds groaned from the washer.
This is where people keep things they don’t want to see. It’s people hidden place, secret place, dark place, place where the light can’t penetrate, the place where you keep the things you never want brought to light. The pilot fish, the ghosts of thoughts and feelings you never wanted to experience or don’t want to ever experience again. It is truly a dark, terrible, place.
She clutched the tin tray of meat closer to her . Her breath became short frightened gasps. The shadow on the basement wall loomed larger and was creeping towards her.
I don’t really know what this site is all about but I guess I only have like 40 seconds left so I should probably start writing something of a basement.
What this word reminds me of is Donnie Darko, when the teach says that “Cellar Door” is the most beautiful phrase in the English Language… I suppose a cellar and a basement are similar! *HoNk*
Steps lead to mystery.
Most people hate mystery.
Mysteries are frightening.
Somehow the basement is frightening.
Perhaps because it is a secret keeper in our trusted homes?
It is out of place.
down the stairs all you see is darkness. How scary, to think that someplace nestled deep below your house could be so mysterious. our houses are supposed to be places of comfort, of being grounded, of knowing where you are. but the basement is different: the basement is a place where your home can keep secrets.
I see the floor moving slowly under my feet..
I want to run away, but I’m trapped and I see defeat.
I cry, I yell, I scream.
I just can’t shake this horrible feeling..
Of what is underneath.
The floor is scary, the celing too.
Maybe next time I won’t take those same shrooms in the basement with you..
It was such a dark, damp, cheerless place. How she hated it when she had to go down the steps. The door creaked and then she saw the shadow on the wall of the basement.
I fell down the stairs into the basement..
But I never hit the floor.
I floated and floated until I just couldn’t take it anymore.
Once I opened my my eyes I saw..
All the sky around me, the things that break the law..
I’d love to see this place again, I’d just love to be in a different realm.
A place of wonder, a place of love..
But when I think of all the things, I can’t help but fell this is hell.
ok well a rocket is a cool looking thing and it make every thing go faster lol but they are pretty cool i wish i had a rocket i would attach it to my scooter
the dark parts of the bottom of the house the creepy blackness of the room its known as the basement. i will not harm you only if you scream. now run screaming and hope that you can run fast enough
Cool dry place to store wine or old memories. That often goes well together.
I love my old basement.. it was full of mold. mold mold mold everywhere. I made it into a secret base by hanging up my sheets. It sat down there to write and draw, but eventually the mold got to me and I had to leave. but still, it made me feel safe.
the darkness creeping upon your soul. the suspense that harvests in your mind. With it comes hatred as well as darkness.
The basement is dark in my opinion.
I think there should be tons of light sparkling lights like every where down there.
I don’t believe in ghosts so I’d say that I’d want a room in the basement cuz it’s so big usually.
Basements are usually under a house and can be used for many things including storing and maybe another room. These basements are very useful.
Basements are.. Scary? There are bats and rats and other creepy things. It’s dark and chilly. Doesn’t it give you the chills too?
There is too much stuff in my basement. My dad uses an entire room to store his books and papers. We really need to clean that room out before my parents move into a new house. It is going to be a lot of work.
basement?
as in where they keep the dead ones?
rotting cold?
yeah.
i’ve been there.
i hear the footsteps .
haunting.
they echo inside as they
come closer.
descending the stairway
as deep as they can go.
lurking in the corners.
like spiderwebs,
long forgotten.
I lived in the basement for most of my teenage years. My parents say it was one of their biggest mistakes. I dunno. It made my life easier.
Except for the spiders.
And the cement walls.
And the darkness.
But darkness can be your friend.
It’s where you turned on that dim light bulb and stripped me of my dignity.
The microphones picking up feedback. The hundreds of kids pilling into the singer and his guitar screaming their favorite words into the air. The entire place shook madly as the aging frontman sang his most popular song with the entirety of the crowd. How those words, now ancient, must have taken him back to his glory days- huge clubs with thousands in attendance. But it was only now with the truth the dedicated fans brought that this “rock star” could find happiness. Even he knew his days were numbered. He would ride his sinking ship straight into the basements and dive bars of the world, even if it meant coming home empty handed.
It’s cool down there. Cool as in not warm. We used to play hide and go seek in the dark in the basement. Then we would put pillows in the window and make it darker. We used to make forts and almost killed ourselves on the cement floor. It seems a lot of people did this as children. This is lame. My writing is lame.
my bedroom is the only one in the basement. some nights i turn on all our christmas lights and have a dance party. two floors above me, everyone sleeps until they get up for work.
In the basement she stood looking up at the staircase. It smelled moldy down here and she didn’t like the dank sounds the shadows made. She knew they weren’t going to simply let her get out of here but why the challenge had to be so cliche she didn’t understand. She had never been one of the kids that were afraid of the dark basement, because her bedroom had been in the basement and what had truly been frightening was what was upstairs: her parents.
I could feel the shivers racing up my spine, the cold concrete sapping the warmth from my feet. The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end as I nervously searched the dimly lit basement for the papers. The ones that would free me if only I could find them in time.
And then the light went out.
It was pretty typical as basements go. Dark, musty, with something dripping off to the left. She tried to squirm out of whatever was holding her hands together but didn’t have any luck. Typical.
When i was younger i was always afraid to go down into the basement. my mom would stand on the top of the stairs and when i got scared, i would yell ‘ are you there?’ and she’d respond with ‘yes dear.’ to this day everytime i have to go down to the basement, i turn on all the lights and sprint down and up the stairs in an effort to not be down thhere as long
I used to fucking blow wow in my moms basement, it used to be my dads “office” before they got divorced and he moved down the street, see I am white and my parents are well off. So i am a teenager, in a 750,000 dollar house in the basement, kind of trashing the place, with a couch/computer chair, a long table and a desk to just play wow 24/7 on.
Basement can hold the hidden. Basement can hide ur feelings ur treasures. Basement gives u a sense of safety, a measure of reliability, silently it gives u comfort. U can live there forever.
Brick patterns, musty, and folded blankets. We like the sun streaming in our faces and even though dust kicks up in our eyes we take a deep breath and delve into history.
There is a basement in a barrel. The very bottom. The end of existence. The journey to the end. There is a basement in our hearts. The very bottom. The basis of our existence. The journey to discovering us. Is my basement the end?
A basement is somewhere that I find to be dark and dreary. One could do many things with a basement, however to me it will always be that creepy place I remember from my childhood. The place where creaky noises come from, the weird light glowing under the door adn the loud sounds groaned from the washer.
This is where people keep things they don’t want to see. It’s people hidden place, secret place, dark place, place where the light can’t penetrate, the place where you keep the things you never want brought to light. The pilot fish, the ghosts of thoughts and feelings you never wanted to experience or don’t want to ever experience again. It is truly a dark, terrible, place.
She clutched the tin tray of meat closer to her . Her breath became short frightened gasps. The shadow on the basement wall loomed larger and was creeping towards her.
I don’t really know what this site is all about but I guess I only have like 40 seconds left so I should probably start writing something of a basement.
What this word reminds me of is Donnie Darko, when the teach says that “Cellar Door” is the most beautiful phrase in the English Language… I suppose a cellar and a basement are similar! *HoNk*
Steps lead to mystery.
Most people hate mystery.
Mysteries are frightening.
Somehow the basement is frightening.
Perhaps because it is a secret keeper in our trusted homes?
It is out of place.
the dungeon and the belly of the home
many terrifying sounds and noises in the deep
cold-damp-dank-
down the stairs all you see is darkness. How scary, to think that someplace nestled deep below your house could be so mysterious. our houses are supposed to be places of comfort, of being grounded, of knowing where you are. but the basement is different: the basement is a place where your home can keep secrets.
a dark room bad thing happen down there its creepy what do i do down in the basement
Deep and dark where they used to store bananas,but watch out for the spiders, ours was in Goodge Street, granddads shop I remember it well….
I see the floor moving slowly under my feet..
I want to run away, but I’m trapped and I see defeat.
I cry, I yell, I scream.
I just can’t shake this horrible feeling..
Of what is underneath.
The floor is scary, the celing too.
Maybe next time I won’t take those same shrooms in the basement with you..
It was such a dark, damp, cheerless place. How she hated it when she had to go down the steps. The door creaked and then she saw the shadow on the wall of the basement.
the basement is a dark. place you store stuff down there.people sometimes sleep down there.or live there.
i went into the terrifing basement only to fnd a monster.
in the basement its dark and creepy, bats and mice all over, sounds coming from nowhere.
I fell down the stairs into the basement..
But I never hit the floor.
I floated and floated until I just couldn’t take it anymore.
Once I opened my my eyes I saw..
All the sky around me, the things that break the law..
I’d love to see this place again, I’d just love to be in a different realm.
A place of wonder, a place of love..
But when I think of all the things, I can’t help but fell this is hell.
The last time I saw her, she was coming up the basement stairs.
ok well a rocket is a cool looking thing and it make every thing go faster lol but they are pretty cool i wish i had a rocket i would attach it to my scooter