Lucy is looking around the house for her sisters suitcases but can’t find them any were, Hey Tami were did you put your suitcases their not in your closet ? Their
mumble mumble, WHAT I yell as she opens the door leading down to the basement.
where all the scary monsters stay. where the laundry gets done…when i remember to bring my clothes down there. scariest place to go at night. where the boiler lives…also where the imaginary hobo lives. DARK SCARY DUNGEON
This would be my first word. It’s where we grew up together. Where our memories sit above the tv. Thousand of video game battles. Candy and Winky. Disney poster. Our first kiss. I don’t even know what else. Infinite things. I used to sleep in it and fantasize about you coming down to visit, but you never did.
The stairs down to the basement were old and squeaky and she was trying her very hardest to creep down and surprise him. She took a few more tentative steps to reach the bottom and carefully opened the door…..
the basement is the room in the house i hate most. its dark and quiet like most rooms i tend to enjoy, but it houses this sort of false energy like something once as birthed lived and died there that seems to hold in it more than regret.
When i was young, i was always afraid of the basement. It seemed like a dark cave where monsters and other creepy cralwys would lurk. There were alwys creepy noises and creaks and moans that came from the basement. I later learned it was just a washer but back then it was very scary. Today i wish i had a basement so i had somewher eto hide.
there is one downstairs with rocks for walls and a dirt floor. I dont dont if there was burried dead bodies down there but whatever…. I would like to finish it but it’s so much work. I am also building a motorcycle in the side room and it is almost done. basments are where you keep secrets.
My basement is very cold in the winter.
But I’ve still had some good times there.
There’s this one bookshelf with these pictures… they’re all hidden inside themselves.
me and my parents were just talking about the man upstairs who goes into the basement and leaves the door unlocked so that his drug dealer can get in and they can make an exchange in the storage room. i’m a little outraged. how could you put all of these people – parents, teens, children, etc. in danger like that ?
The basement is the place where I have always loved to go to be alone. It has the refridgerator with all the good food that mom hides from us. I skype my friends in the basement and sleep on my old panda bear sheets. It is not a comforting place, but it holdsa lot
The basement. It was place of cold, of fear. Children shuddered in terror at the very word. Demons and shadows alike stalked the frigid perimeter. Ghosts and monsters awaited the entrance of their next young victim. Pipes and heaters screamed like banshees and the lights flicker over the stone floor. The basement.
The stickiness in the air held her down as she tried to move. It was no use; her body was paralyzed and she was certain no one would be able to find her. The cellar door was locked, after all.
I walked down into the basement to find my laboratory. With the glow of the lights in the background, I turned on the machine. Could this really be a link with God. Have I gone crazy. It let out a low groan as it prepared itself. What will I ask it?
Something about a youth I want to forget…a house I pretend I never lived in. I wish I had been stronger at the time. I wish I didn’t have to wish I was stronger at the time…because it’s a constant tease of how weak I really am.
He went down to his basement to find solace in what he loved. He went to his Dungeons and Dragon figurines and cradled them in his hands, loving every second of it. He went to his DVD collection, his fingers performing grazing over the spines.
Sock riddled with lint crawled wearily down her ankles as she descended into the basement to gather some mushrooms in the sodden and oppressive gloom. Strangley though, despite these murky origins, the meal was a symphony of taste and colour, a positive tsunami of flavour forcing smiles into the souls of the diners tongue first. YUM!!
i hide there. and i know many are scared of it. but i hide there whenever i get the chance. it isn’t something i like to brag about… it is something i cherish. a secret almost. not that i find it uncanny it is something to be terrifying. it isn’t. but when i am terrified, i run to what other children fear the most.
He was back in the basement staring at the furnace. The basement was the only place he could think of to hide from the impending rocket attack. The basement. The basement, how could he dig it deeper in 15 minutes to shield himself from the blast? It was a mystery of fear at angst in the basement of his animal brain. then he laughed until he puked.
Those basement kids. Pizza at 2am with Uno showdown. Locking each other out of rooms. Growing potato. I laugh because these all happened at Lester, then I start to miss those basement kids.
We don’t have a basement, I’ve never lived where there is one. When I was at Daniel’s home, it seemed strange to go down the stairs and see what was there. We’ve always had sheds and out buildings to store our stuff but that is inconvenient because you have to leave the house to get to them, I still don’t know if I like the idea of basements or not but it’s nice to have been in one.
is where the wet water is and where the musty bigs sit all day and laugh at the people living upstairs. There are things stored in the basement that are relics and trains and all kinds of antiques and none of them are properly labeled and none of them are mine. There was a great home alone scene with a basement furnace.
I live in my parent’s basement. Actually, I don’t. That’s just what I thought of when I saw the word basement. But now I’m thinking that the m looks like the roof of an odd house that someone who has lots of money and never lived in his or her parents’ basement would live in.
i spent many slumber parties in my basement trying to escape supervision. As i aged I used my basement to be sneaky and flee the house to see friends when my parents were sleeping and unaware. When i go into my basement now all I think of or see is old belongings and memories
In the basement of my mind are cluttered thoughts that sometimes scare me and torment me but sometimes I find the odd happy memory and want to stay there a while.
under the skin. hidden. safety. womb. beauty and seclusion. a grain of dust in the eye of a cabbage. take shelter here. and be safe from the storm. cavernous ache
Help.
He’s keeping me trapped.
I scream and pound, I’m bound by ropes that cut my hands and wrists.
I smell the stench of old water.
Where am I?
I pound the wall harder.
I see no light.
The darkness will not consume me.
I will escape.
When Jack went down into the basement of the hotel in The Shining, I started crying. That was the first and only book I haven’t finished out of fear. I hate boilers.
I sat in the basement, waiting for something to happen. Nothing did. I stood there and nowhere else and the world moved around me. I was still, a frozen mummy. I fell asleep and never woke up and since then, I’m alive.
There’s a monster in my basement.
He likes to come out at night. Sometimes I sneak down to the kitchen and he sneaks up and I make us a lovely up of tea.
We laugh at the day’s joys and console each other on our sorrows. Sometimes I don’t know much about the sorrows of a monster but I offer my hand nonetheless. I think he appreciates that.
He locked me in the basement for thee whole months. No food, only drink. It’s a surprise I survived. It was dark and damp. I got sick down there a lot. It was terrible.
I think there’s something down there. In my basement. You know, I hear it at night. But only at night. During the day, it runs away or something. Maybe it’s scared. Maybe it’s more scared than me. I never thought about that. Maybe we’re all the same! What if the thing is my basement is just another human like me. Someone who likes orange juice and watching cartoons. I could be making friends with the noise in the basement instead of being scared of it. What a waste. I suppose that’s how it goes.
cold and at the bottom of the creepest place you can go as a child. you can hear the crawling little things at the bottom. SCREAMS! oh no! wait… wait… that was the tv. but is there really someone down there? Sounds like water now. Can I swim? not really. what must that mean?
No, I will not go down with you into the modern equivalent of a “human” cave. It’s dank, it’s smelly, and more importantly other people in the house will hear us.
And frankly, I’m kind of loud like that. Plus you’re in your 30s. Why do you live with your mom and whatever-number boyfriend this is?
Ok, you know what. I’m not really feeling “wooed” here. The McDonalds dinner, the dollar movie, the bus, and now the basement? No, I just don’t think I can take it.
Lucy is looking around the house for her sisters suitcases but can’t find them any were, Hey Tami were did you put your suitcases their not in your closet ? Their
mumble mumble, WHAT I yell as she opens the door leading down to the basement.
where all the scary monsters stay. where the laundry gets done…when i remember to bring my clothes down there. scariest place to go at night. where the boiler lives…also where the imaginary hobo lives. DARK SCARY DUNGEON
This would be my first word. It’s where we grew up together. Where our memories sit above the tv. Thousand of video game battles. Candy and Winky. Disney poster. Our first kiss. I don’t even know what else. Infinite things. I used to sleep in it and fantasize about you coming down to visit, but you never did.
Basement has always been there for me. For fun or for refuge. You have always been my friend.
A basement is where the secrets are. Where every monster from your childhood dwells. A place where things live for the night.
The stairs down to the basement were old and squeaky and she was trying her very hardest to creep down and surprise him. She took a few more tentative steps to reach the bottom and carefully opened the door…..
I keep my wife in the basement, locked away so she can never escape. I don’t want my wife leaving the basement
the basement is the room in the house i hate most. its dark and quiet like most rooms i tend to enjoy, but it houses this sort of false energy like something once as birthed lived and died there that seems to hold in it more than regret.
dark, weed, eric foreman, high, weed brownies, tv, fun, ice cream, party, alcohol, friends, hiding games, monopoly, laundry, stairs, movies, secret, below, couch, c
When i was young, i was always afraid of the basement. It seemed like a dark cave where monsters and other creepy cralwys would lurk. There were alwys creepy noises and creaks and moans that came from the basement. I later learned it was just a washer but back then it was very scary. Today i wish i had a basement so i had somewher eto hide.
there is one downstairs with rocks for walls and a dirt floor. I dont dont if there was burried dead bodies down there but whatever…. I would like to finish it but it’s so much work. I am also building a motorcycle in the side room and it is almost done. basments are where you keep secrets.
My basement is very cold in the winter.
But I’ve still had some good times there.
There’s this one bookshelf with these pictures… they’re all hidden inside themselves.
me and my parents were just talking about the man upstairs who goes into the basement and leaves the door unlocked so that his drug dealer can get in and they can make an exchange in the storage room. i’m a little outraged. how could you put all of these people – parents, teens, children, etc. in danger like that ?
Scary.
The basement is the place where I have always loved to go to be alone. It has the refridgerator with all the good food that mom hides from us. I skype my friends in the basement and sleep on my old panda bear sheets. It is not a comforting place, but it holdsa lot
The basement. It was place of cold, of fear. Children shuddered in terror at the very word. Demons and shadows alike stalked the frigid perimeter. Ghosts and monsters awaited the entrance of their next young victim. Pipes and heaters screamed like banshees and the lights flicker over the stone floor. The basement.
The stickiness in the air held her down as she tried to move. It was no use; her body was paralyzed and she was certain no one would be able to find her. The cellar door was locked, after all.
I walked down into the basement to find my laboratory. With the glow of the lights in the background, I turned on the machine. Could this really be a link with God. Have I gone crazy. It let out a low groan as it prepared itself. What will I ask it?
Something about a youth I want to forget…a house I pretend I never lived in. I wish I had been stronger at the time. I wish I didn’t have to wish I was stronger at the time…because it’s a constant tease of how weak I really am.
He went down to his basement to find solace in what he loved. He went to his Dungeons and Dragon figurines and cradled them in his hands, loving every second of it. He went to his DVD collection, his fingers performing grazing over the spines.
Sock riddled with lint crawled wearily down her ankles as she descended into the basement to gather some mushrooms in the sodden and oppressive gloom. Strangley though, despite these murky origins, the meal was a symphony of taste and colour, a positive tsunami of flavour forcing smiles into the souls of the diners tongue first. YUM!!
i hide there. and i know many are scared of it. but i hide there whenever i get the chance. it isn’t something i like to brag about… it is something i cherish. a secret almost. not that i find it uncanny it is something to be terrifying. it isn’t. but when i am terrified, i run to what other children fear the most.
He was back in the basement staring at the furnace. The basement was the only place he could think of to hide from the impending rocket attack. The basement. The basement, how could he dig it deeper in 15 minutes to shield himself from the blast? It was a mystery of fear at angst in the basement of his animal brain. then he laughed until he puked.
Those basement kids. Pizza at 2am with Uno showdown. Locking each other out of rooms. Growing potato. I laugh because these all happened at Lester, then I start to miss those basement kids.
We don’t have a basement, I’ve never lived where there is one. When I was at Daniel’s home, it seemed strange to go down the stairs and see what was there. We’ve always had sheds and out buildings to store our stuff but that is inconvenient because you have to leave the house to get to them, I still don’t know if I like the idea of basements or not but it’s nice to have been in one.
is where the wet water is and where the musty bigs sit all day and laugh at the people living upstairs. There are things stored in the basement that are relics and trains and all kinds of antiques and none of them are properly labeled and none of them are mine. There was a great home alone scene with a basement furnace.
I live in my parent’s basement. Actually, I don’t. That’s just what I thought of when I saw the word basement. But now I’m thinking that the m looks like the roof of an odd house that someone who has lots of money and never lived in his or her parents’ basement would live in.
i spent many slumber parties in my basement trying to escape supervision. As i aged I used my basement to be sneaky and flee the house to see friends when my parents were sleeping and unaware. When i go into my basement now all I think of or see is old belongings and memories
In the basement of my mind are cluttered thoughts that sometimes scare me and torment me but sometimes I find the odd happy memory and want to stay there a while.
under the skin. hidden. safety. womb. beauty and seclusion. a grain of dust in the eye of a cabbage. take shelter here. and be safe from the storm. cavernous ache
basement?
more like a dungeon
for my mind
and my heart.
Help.
He’s keeping me trapped.
I scream and pound, I’m bound by ropes that cut my hands and wrists.
I smell the stench of old water.
Where am I?
I pound the wall harder.
I see no light.
The darkness will not consume me.
I will escape.
When Jack went down into the basement of the hotel in The Shining, I started crying. That was the first and only book I haven’t finished out of fear. I hate boilers.
I sat in the basement, waiting for something to happen. Nothing did. I stood there and nowhere else and the world moved around me. I was still, a frozen mummy. I fell asleep and never woke up and since then, I’m alive.
There’s a monster in my basement.
He likes to come out at night. Sometimes I sneak down to the kitchen and he sneaks up and I make us a lovely up of tea.
We laugh at the day’s joys and console each other on our sorrows. Sometimes I don’t know much about the sorrows of a monster but I offer my hand nonetheless. I think he appreciates that.
“The basement is flooding!” she cried out urgently.
This couldn’t be good. I knew what that meant- all of
Okay I live in Florida, we don’t have basements, I don’t even know if a basement can flood. I assume it can. This is a really bad entry.
He locked me in the basement for thee whole months. No food, only drink. It’s a surprise I survived. It was dark and damp. I got sick down there a lot. It was terrible.
I think there’s something down there. In my basement. You know, I hear it at night. But only at night. During the day, it runs away or something. Maybe it’s scared. Maybe it’s more scared than me. I never thought about that. Maybe we’re all the same! What if the thing is my basement is just another human like me. Someone who likes orange juice and watching cartoons. I could be making friends with the noise in the basement instead of being scared of it. What a waste. I suppose that’s how it goes.
cold and at the bottom of the creepest place you can go as a child. you can hear the crawling little things at the bottom. SCREAMS! oh no! wait… wait… that was the tv. but is there really someone down there? Sounds like water now. Can I swim? not really. what must that mean?
No, I will not go down with you into the modern equivalent of a “human” cave. It’s dank, it’s smelly, and more importantly other people in the house will hear us.
And frankly, I’m kind of loud like that. Plus you’re in your 30s. Why do you live with your mom and whatever-number boyfriend this is?
Ok, you know what. I’m not really feeling “wooed” here. The McDonalds dinner, the dollar movie, the bus, and now the basement? No, I just don’t think I can take it.