The dungeon of all childhood heroes awaits. Behold brave knight: the fiendish furnace beast, the terrible creepy shadow thing, the horrid creaky stairs demon, but do not worry. It will all be worth it once you obtain your treasure…
Her memories played like an old film reel in her mind, black and white, skipping in places and some scenes lost all together. She remembered, burnt spoons, and traffic lights, the blur of the city as it passed her glassy eyes. And last, a stain on the basement floor that would forever mark where a friendship ended.
I was always scared of my basement as a kid. It was dark and clammy and let very little daylight in because of the lack of windows. Sure we had lights but they didn’t seem to scare away the monsters in the shadows. My memories in the basement are random…hide and seek, video games, running fast up the stairs after having to go get milk from the dreaded darkness..i guess i thought if i ran fast enough back to my safe and warm kitchen the monsters lurking in my basement couldn’t catch me..
In the basement of my heart is where I will keep you and the memories we shared together. Even later on when you’ve been pushed to the very back of the basement walls, I will always remember you and appreciate you for how much you loved me.
We strutted into the basement like Ke$ha, hair waving behind us, dresses riding up as the group of teenage boys with their beer coolers stared at us with wanting eyes. I made my way to the pong table, my home for the night, and instantly began demolishing my opponents. Never underestimate a blond in a little black dress, you have been warned.
Locked in among the wayward spirits, I stood alarmed. I stared upon the door at the top of the long, spindling stair, a small streak of light emanating from beneath. Terror manifested itself in a high scream as I clung to the rail, ascending the staircase at a blinding pace. Skinny fists pounded the door, my legs kicking and lashing about towards the hard, ungiving wood. My cries were heard, but not recognized. My captor had no ears for them, except as payment during my torture. I gave up at last when a misplaced kick sent me tumbling down the stairs. My wrist hurting from the fall, I clutched it, sobbing as I dragged myself towards the blood-soaked walls. Trapped beneath the city streets, in the cellar of Hell.
The fundamental structure to all homes. And since home is where the heart is… it could even be said that a basement is the base structre to which we lay the foundation of our hearts. Or, it could just be a moldy, unfinished storage space. I just think the latter is slightly more romantic.
my basement. dark. wet. green. smelly. musty. ears ringing. dryer clunking. wires crossed, bare bulbs, burnt out and broken. laundry, music, no reception. i love it down here in its dirty glory. my place.
The basement. One of the most scariest places on Earth. Where monsters hide to terrify little kids and rats chew on memories that have been forgotten. A place where no child wants to go alone.
Up the stairs, two at a time. Like a lion is chasing me, but it’s only the dark. I’m sure there are some cave crickets too. I reach the upstairs, and I’m in one piece. That’s wonderful.
It’s dark, cold and freezing. No lights get through, no sunrise to wake you up. The best place to sleep, the worse place to get up. In the summer it’s nice and cool. It’s the only place you can escape the horrible summer heat. In the spring, you hear the alley cats and all their…
In the fall, the sweet scent of tree sap from fallen leaves creep through the walls.
The basement is a place where I do not like venturing into. Cold, gray steps lead me from the outside to down below. It’s home to insects, old furniture, forgotten toys, VCR tapes, and who knows what.
yeserday there was a flood in the basement and joey told me not to go down there. i did anyways and i wish i hadn’t. the water soaked my new pair of red socks and i wanted to fucking kill myself. why had i gone down there? i should listen to joey more often. i really fucking should.
we walked slowly into the basement as he laced his fingers through mine. The lightswitch was never touched, we simply walked hand in hand towards the darkness fearlessly, knowing we could handle whatever was awaiting us there so long as we had love for eachother. It was overpowering and life changing, but not monumental. Just simple and accepted. Together, we would be fine. With or without the light.
Yikes!! Without a doubt, the area in my house that looks like a bomb exploded in it, is the basement. There are things down there that have no original origin – they seem to have been tele-ported in!!
It was dark but by definition, they always are. I wanted to go down there, so I did.
It was filled with my grandparents belongings, packed in crates and boxes. I could smell the moth balls immediately. I saw furniture, paintings and clothes.
I spent the day down there, smelling, touching and remembering. My grandmother always smelled like powder and lavender.
In my mind, she was still alive while I was down there.
My grandfather clothes smelled like his pipe. No one ever smokes pipes anymore, I thought, and it was too bad. It gives people such fond memories. I missed him and didn’t realize how much until then.
I looked through old photographs. I had forgotten about these.
I needed to keep these things. I needed them out of the basement. I needed to find a way to keep my family with me.
I have one. It’s Rather cold and somewhat dark. I sleep down there, unfortunately with my brother Bernhard. He’s arachniphobic. Handy in a basement eh? Anyhow, I also look at the mountains from my basement, through My telescope.
we wanted to buy a house with a basement. but the house we fell in love with had no basement. so, buy a house we love with no basement or keep looking till we find one with a basement? we bought the house we loved with no basement. oh well, maybe the next house…
a scary place in which you store your belongings that are being unused. Most people are frightened by this dark, scary, underground, place but it is really just a room in your house. The basement will forever be an unexeplored, stereo-typed monster home.
the place i spent my entire winter, falling in love with the man i thought was the one i’d spend my life with. in the basement is also where my heart was broken and the place where i am learning to put it back together.
deep in the basement, behind the furnace and the pipes twisting at strange angles where there are lots of spider webs and (maybe) spiders, I didn’t want to have to stick my hand in there to find the ball that had rolled down the stairs and back into the unknown space. I was scared!
It’s always cold and damp in the basement. As a child I hated going in there because I was afraid some booger monster would jump out at be from behind something.
I’ve been sitting here, with my knees pulled up to my chest for the past hour. The cement floor is damp and it’s cold. I rock back and forth, just waiting. It’s been forever, I think. It’s been so long… I don’t know when you’ll be coming back, or if you will. You looked so angry when you locked the door. When you told me you wished I’d die, so I wouldn’t be trouble for you anymore. I’m sorry. Please…let me out? Please, mom – I’m sorry.
The room was darker than I expected. Still. I could see nearly every detailed within the place. The dust piling up in each corner. One side of the room had an empty book case. Spider webs filled the spaces. I took a step. A spider scurried out of its resting place. I jumped in fright. This place, was danger, yet I still knew it would hold a secret I had to find.
The basement was full of water. And it kept climbing and climbing the stairs to my house. I knew I would not escape with my life so I did what anyone would do. I prayed. And I cried and once the water had reached the roof I was at peace.
My basement always scares me. I am afraid to go downstairs alone. Even though it is really just a few unfinished rooms. My basement really just consists of a few old exercise machines, an old tv, and old toys. Old everything really. Even the furniture is left over from previous houses we’ve lived in.
The basement is dark and wet. After all that is how most basements are. But sometimes people live in basements along with rats and mold and junk from years gone by. It must be a cold existence to live among the forgotten.
I was in the basement and there i was confronted by a superman statue, I paused, and then reflected upon my situation. This could have been my long lost Platypus. Interesting ?
So I’m supposed to be reading “Death of a Salesman” for English, right, but I can’t.
I don’t know why.
I just can’t.
It’s like… like playing hide-and-seek in the basement, and someone finds you, and you’re It, so you count and everything. But when you open your eyes again no one’s there, and you can’t find anyone.
You just can’t.
I was sitting in the basement just playing with Brooke like usual. We always had the greatest time with just the two of us playing Barbies and fighting over who got what name. I always wanted Jessica and she always wanted Roxy; two very different names. We were so close. Those were the the times.
My grandmother’s basement was my favorite place to play as a child. My cousin Heather and I played there for hours with old dresses, papers, glitter & markers and a tin of pick up sticks. Once while in Wal-mart I smelled a candle that had the exact scent of my grandmother’s basement. I cried uncontrollably and without understanding why.
The domain of my cats. Dark an dirty, it is where they plot their evil.
The dungeon of all childhood heroes awaits. Behold brave knight: the fiendish furnace beast, the terrible creepy shadow thing, the horrid creaky stairs demon, but do not worry. It will all be worth it once you obtain your treasure…
Her memories played like an old film reel in her mind, black and white, skipping in places and some scenes lost all together. She remembered, burnt spoons, and traffic lights, the blur of the city as it passed her glassy eyes. And last, a stain on the basement floor that would forever mark where a friendship ended.
I was always scared of my basement as a kid. It was dark and clammy and let very little daylight in because of the lack of windows. Sure we had lights but they didn’t seem to scare away the monsters in the shadows. My memories in the basement are random…hide and seek, video games, running fast up the stairs after having to go get milk from the dreaded darkness..i guess i thought if i ran fast enough back to my safe and warm kitchen the monsters lurking in my basement couldn’t catch me..
In the basement of my heart is where I will keep you and the memories we shared together. Even later on when you’ve been pushed to the very back of the basement walls, I will always remember you and appreciate you for how much you loved me.
The basement was covered in black lights and glittered girls. Boys held their drinks and girls danced their heels off. A night to remember.
We strutted into the basement like Ke$ha, hair waving behind us, dresses riding up as the group of teenage boys with their beer coolers stared at us with wanting eyes. I made my way to the pong table, my home for the night, and instantly began demolishing my opponents. Never underestimate a blond in a little black dress, you have been warned.
Locked in among the wayward spirits, I stood alarmed. I stared upon the door at the top of the long, spindling stair, a small streak of light emanating from beneath. Terror manifested itself in a high scream as I clung to the rail, ascending the staircase at a blinding pace. Skinny fists pounded the door, my legs kicking and lashing about towards the hard, ungiving wood. My cries were heard, but not recognized. My captor had no ears for them, except as payment during my torture. I gave up at last when a misplaced kick sent me tumbling down the stairs. My wrist hurting from the fall, I clutched it, sobbing as I dragged myself towards the blood-soaked walls. Trapped beneath the city streets, in the cellar of Hell.
I don’t have a basement. I meant that. There is no base in this song i am listening to yet there is.
What do you do with a house with no basement? I think you could move it easily. You can not eat a basement. This is clear.
Somewhere, deep below the attic, is the basement. Its like passing gas, always better coming out the attic than the basement..
The fundamental structure to all homes. And since home is where the heart is… it could even be said that a basement is the base structre to which we lay the foundation of our hearts. Or, it could just be a moldy, unfinished storage space. I just think the latter is slightly more romantic.
my basement. dark. wet. green. smelly. musty. ears ringing. dryer clunking. wires crossed, bare bulbs, burnt out and broken. laundry, music, no reception. i love it down here in its dirty glory. my place.
The basement. One of the most scariest places on Earth. Where monsters hide to terrify little kids and rats chew on memories that have been forgotten. A place where no child wants to go alone.
Up the stairs, two at a time. Like a lion is chasing me, but it’s only the dark. I’m sure there are some cave crickets too. I reach the upstairs, and I’m in one piece. That’s wonderful.
It’s dark, cold and freezing. No lights get through, no sunrise to wake you up. The best place to sleep, the worse place to get up. In the summer it’s nice and cool. It’s the only place you can escape the horrible summer heat. In the spring, you hear the alley cats and all their…
In the fall, the sweet scent of tree sap from fallen leaves creep through the walls.
The basement is a place where I do not like venturing into. Cold, gray steps lead me from the outside to down below. It’s home to insects, old furniture, forgotten toys, VCR tapes, and who knows what.
yeserday there was a flood in the basement and joey told me not to go down there. i did anyways and i wish i hadn’t. the water soaked my new pair of red socks and i wanted to fucking kill myself. why had i gone down there? i should listen to joey more often. i really fucking should.
we walked slowly into the basement as he laced his fingers through mine. The lightswitch was never touched, we simply walked hand in hand towards the darkness fearlessly, knowing we could handle whatever was awaiting us there so long as we had love for eachother. It was overpowering and life changing, but not monumental. Just simple and accepted. Together, we would be fine. With or without the light.
Yikes!! Without a doubt, the area in my house that looks like a bomb exploded in it, is the basement. There are things down there that have no original origin – they seem to have been tele-ported in!!
Dark and cold. Lonely and forgotten. Hard and dirty. Scary and menacing.
It was dark but by definition, they always are. I wanted to go down there, so I did.
It was filled with my grandparents belongings, packed in crates and boxes. I could smell the moth balls immediately. I saw furniture, paintings and clothes.
I spent the day down there, smelling, touching and remembering. My grandmother always smelled like powder and lavender.
In my mind, she was still alive while I was down there.
My grandfather clothes smelled like his pipe. No one ever smokes pipes anymore, I thought, and it was too bad. It gives people such fond memories. I missed him and didn’t realize how much until then.
I looked through old photographs. I had forgotten about these.
I needed to keep these things. I needed them out of the basement. I needed to find a way to keep my family with me.
I have one. It’s Rather cold and somewhat dark. I sleep down there, unfortunately with my brother Bernhard. He’s arachniphobic. Handy in a basement eh? Anyhow, I also look at the mountains from my basement, through My telescope.
we wanted to buy a house with a basement. but the house we fell in love with had no basement. so, buy a house we love with no basement or keep looking till we find one with a basement? we bought the house we loved with no basement. oh well, maybe the next house…
a scary place in which you store your belongings that are being unused. Most people are frightened by this dark, scary, underground, place but it is really just a room in your house. The basement will forever be an unexeplored, stereo-typed monster home.
the place i spent my entire winter, falling in love with the man i thought was the one i’d spend my life with. in the basement is also where my heart was broken and the place where i am learning to put it back together.
deep in the basement, behind the furnace and the pipes twisting at strange angles where there are lots of spider webs and (maybe) spiders, I didn’t want to have to stick my hand in there to find the ball that had rolled down the stairs and back into the unknown space. I was scared!
It’s always cold and damp in the basement. As a child I hated going in there because I was afraid some booger monster would jump out at be from behind something.
I’ve been sitting here, with my knees pulled up to my chest for the past hour. The cement floor is damp and it’s cold. I rock back and forth, just waiting. It’s been forever, I think. It’s been so long… I don’t know when you’ll be coming back, or if you will. You looked so angry when you locked the door. When you told me you wished I’d die, so I wouldn’t be trouble for you anymore. I’m sorry. Please…let me out? Please, mom – I’m sorry.
The room was darker than I expected. Still. I could see nearly every detailed within the place. The dust piling up in each corner. One side of the room had an empty book case. Spider webs filled the spaces. I took a step. A spider scurried out of its resting place. I jumped in fright. This place, was danger, yet I still knew it would hold a secret I had to find.
In the basement was where I heard the sounds. They stayed with me, traveled through my dreams.
Band practice. Lots of screaming
I can hear my parents calling my name.
Wait, we don’t have that here in the Philippines.
I must be dreaming.
This has to be a movie.
The basement was full of water. And it kept climbing and climbing the stairs to my house. I knew I would not escape with my life so I did what anyone would do. I prayed. And I cried and once the water had reached the roof I was at peace.
My basement always scares me. I am afraid to go downstairs alone. Even though it is really just a few unfinished rooms. My basement really just consists of a few old exercise machines, an old tv, and old toys. Old everything really. Even the furniture is left over from previous houses we’ve lived in.
The basement is dark and wet. After all that is how most basements are. But sometimes people live in basements along with rats and mold and junk from years gone by. It must be a cold existence to live among the forgotten.
its the floor under your floor the bottom of the botem under the house and under our lives hidden from the world basments are alone
I was in the basement and there i was confronted by a superman statue, I paused, and then reflected upon my situation. This could have been my long lost Platypus. Interesting ?
A.) Yes
B.) No
C.) Maybe
——————————————————————-
Answer: A.
So I’m supposed to be reading “Death of a Salesman” for English, right, but I can’t.
I don’t know why.
I just can’t.
It’s like… like playing hide-and-seek in the basement, and someone finds you, and you’re It, so you count and everything. But when you open your eyes again no one’s there, and you can’t find anyone.
You just can’t.
I was sitting in the basement just playing with Brooke like usual. We always had the greatest time with just the two of us playing Barbies and fighting over who got what name. I always wanted Jessica and she always wanted Roxy; two very different names. We were so close. Those were the the times.
in the basement of the mind, behind old locks and cobwebs, underneath the dark stairs, lie the things you wish kept hidden, still alive
My grandmother’s basement was my favorite place to play as a child. My cousin Heather and I played there for hours with old dresses, papers, glitter & markers and a tin of pick up sticks. Once while in Wal-mart I smelled a candle that had the exact scent of my grandmother’s basement. I cried uncontrollably and without understanding why.