It happened a long time ago when I was five. My grandma had taken me to her friends house. I had been there many times before and had played with the twins there many times before. Though that day I was there only one of them was there. We went down to the basement to play. That day we had played swords with a bug hitter (Flasswhopper) and a bat. We mostly just kept hitting each other though would trade weapons every now and then. The basement was dark though it had a little window so you can see. I wasn't that much scared down there because my friend was there. Also I had a basement similar to that one. Then all of sudden one of us saw it.
I don't really remember who saw it first. It looked like a woman you see on one of those African paintings sitting down criss-cross with a pot on her lap. We were shocked to the point that we could not move and neither of us could stop looking. All of a sudden she said that she would get us. Then she started putting things in her pot. That's when we ran for the stairs. Though my friend stopped and told me he had to do something. I stood there waiting for him. If I had any courage it was waiting for him because I wanted to bolt up the stairs. I watched her as she put things in the pot. Though the only thing I remember her putting in there was a frog. The rest was a blur. He finally came back and we ran up the stairs to find my grandma and her friend screwing a light bulb in. We stood there, our pants wet, though no words came out all we could do was point at the basement door.
When my family moved I saw a statue of it though my grandma left it. She said it was a gift from my grandpa who bought it from a womam. Ever since I have not been able to not believe in anything. When I see scary movies I am petrified though I still love watching them. I guess you could say that's the end though you can never know if that's true.
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