There was an incredible park in my city, I loved it a lot. It was called Gorky Park. I remember this park from as early as I can remember myself. My family lived in a posh area – the same area as the park – so I was lucky enough to visit it on a daily basis. And my friends and I were endlessly hanging out over there.

Years passed, and I grew up and got married. In that marriage I gave birth to my son – the apple of my eye. Despite our moving to a distant neighbourhood, I wanted to take my son back to my lovely old posh park. Whenever we went out as a family, it wasn’t any surprise that took every opportunity to visit that park with my and my son’s friends.

Some time later, the most amazing thing happened with the park – we found out it had been completely upgraded! All of us were so curious about that, so we rushed there as soon as it was opened after its major renovation. When we got there, not only were we just pleasantly surprised but all of us were flabbergasted beyond words.

Moreover, there were plenty of new amusement rides there, including a quite scary roller coaster, a huge remarkable Ferris wheel and much, much more. However, one attraction stood out above all the others. It was the scariest one – a Haunted House. The building’s walls were covered by frightening spooky paintings, it looked like all the terrible and disgusting creatures gathered there. When my friends suggested that we visit that abysmal frightful place, I wasn’t keen on going there at all. Finally, my friends managed to persuade me, and I agreed but only on the condition that our children wouldn’t come with us.

After leaving the children in a supervised playroom, we went into the house. The first room was already eerie. The atmosphere was distinctly tense. Cobwebs were everywhere, gigantic bats hung from the ceiling, and in the far corner the outline of a sinister skeleton loomed, thick with dust. In the middle of the room stood a massive table, a torn tablecloth draped across it, its grimy, tattered ends brushing against the dusty floor. The table was laid with a rather unsettling assortment of dirty crockery, including cracked plates and broken glasses. There was complete macabre silence.

Being already scared enough, we decided to enter the next room. However, when we approached the table, one end suddenly lifted, propping it up, and from beneath a petrifying skeleton sprang at us. It was so horrible, so unexpected! This haunted house might have echoed with countless screams during its short eventful existence but never ever with one as sharp and lingering as the piercing shriek that tore from me.

We froze for a moment, staring at each other in utter shock. Then, without saying a word, we dashed toward the exit. Rooms flashed past one after another; skeletons, bats, menacing coffins, broken crockery and enormous spiders with gigantic red eyes seemed to whirl around us. While we ran, I couldn’t help screaming. A kind of frantic, electric atmosphere pierced us to the core. We were intimidated and delighted at the same time, completely overwhelmed by the madness of it all.

By the time we reached the final room, we were hysterically laughing through our tears. It was a captivating, terrifying and yet exhilarating experience. We knew, even then, that we would never forget such a chaotic and fascinating adventure.

Emerging from the house, both shaken and thrilled, we headed to pick up our children from the playroom. When we took them, we found out that both of them desperately wanted to join us in our spooky adventure and they kept pestering us to take them along there. Nevertheless, as you can understand, we were clear that they were too young for such horrifying experience.

Therefore, we suggested an alternative – they could choose whichever attraction they would like. Fortunately, my son was elated to do that, but my friend’s daughter wasn’t willing at all. I knew just from my friend’s words that the girl was disobedient and nasty, but I didn’t pay much attention for her warnings.

Finally, by our joint efforts, we convinced her. Both children chose a roller coaster, so we went there and took an exciting ride together. All of us were gleeful, except for the girl. She stood near the attraction and started murmuring evilly, stubbornly refusing to go anywhere else except the house. Surprisingly, her mother remained completely silent. The atmosphere began to heat up, everybody tensed. My friend still made no sound while her daughter kept murmuring.

I decided to defuse the situation by kindly explaining to the girl about the futility of her attempts to insist on her own way. I even suggested to her that we could buy another ticket to the Ferris wheel instead of the Haunted House. While I was talking with the girl, I noticed out of the corner of my eye that my friend – her Mum – was straining intensely. Furthermore, she gripped my arm tightly, with a suspicious and nervous exhale.

I didn’t understand what was going on, so I continued to persuade her daughter as kindly as possible. But you won’t believe what happened next! The 10-year-old girl looked at me gloomily. The fragile, petite girl, no bigger than a doll, threw back her head, opened her mouth like a cavern and howled with a force that could have belonged to a giant. Not only did she let out an enormous shout – but she also roared, bellowed and vociferated all at once. Everyone around gasped in astonishment. I was utterly shocked too and glanced at her poor Mum, feeling a mix of sorrow and compassion.

Honestly, that uncanny and entirely unexpected incident with the tiny, pitiful girl who looked as timid as a mouse staggered me far more than our whimsical visit to the towering, utterly immense, and preternatural Haunted House.