Pip’s family had moved to a big, two-storey house. It had huge empty rooms and wooden floors. One evening when Pip came home from school, the house was dark. “Mom, Sheryl,” he called out. “Tralalaa,” his sister’s voice boomed from upstairs, accompanied by piano music. He wondered when his sister, Sheryl, had learnt to play the piano. “Where are you?” he said. “Tralalalla,” she sang, this time much louder. Pip climbed the stairs. The singing was coming from the corner-most room on the right. Just before he opened the door, Sheryl’s voice called out from below, “Pip, are you at home?” Pip ran down the stairs and saw Sheryl and his mother. As he ran, the corner room-door opened. Fiery beady eyes stared at him. At night, when Pip and his father searched the room, they could not find anything. No one ever used that room again; it remained locked always.
Tralalala
