I have always been a bit suspicious about my next door neighbour, Tommy Browne. I have only seen him once this year. He must have a massive supply of food in his house because he never goes to the shop. His house is really old. It has rusty pipes, moss all over the roof and a blue door that looks older than Tommy himself. One day, as a dare my friend told me to go into the house. I said no way. Then he told me he’d come with me. Foolishly I agreed to it. We walked up the passage to Tommy’s old blue door. I started to feel this wasn’t the best idea. I put my hand on the handle. Then something jumped. I’m never going back there again.