Breaking Rules I broke all the rules. I went in alone and refused to leave when the wind through the broken windows said �Get out!� I am getting ahead of myself so let me back up. Mom popped by the school to bring me two EpiPens, one to carry and the other for my locker should I ever forget it again. My high school cheerleading squad planned a outside pep rally to benefit the Salvation Army food bank, everyone brought a can or two. After losing the football playoff game, the school needed a cheering up and a Halloween pep party filled the bill. Being outside at dusk would expose me to the insects I am allergic to. My squad besties dared me, I was the oldest senior, to enter Squatter Joe�s busted condemned house. Smoke usually curled from the chimney, but that stopped a month ago and it was cold. Police left him alone because no one filed a trespassing complaint. To make it extra scary, they handed me a yellow Nokia Lumia 1020, the one with a forty one mega pixel camera, to record the event on video instead of coming. The waning sliver of the moon didn�t provide much light. After adjusting my purse across my body, I narrated my way inside only hesitating slightly before rule breaking. I started with breaking and entering followed by criminal trespass. The house needed repairs badly. My I Phone 5 became a flashlight while I documented my journey further into the abandoned house. Watching my step became a big priority as my left foot found a spot missing some floorboards. Nasty, what a smell, I found Squatter Joe�s toilet room but no Joe! Feeling real unsafe about going up, I descended to the basement. Never go into the basement � ever, a basic rule, but I did it anyway. Each step creaked or moaned announcing my presence as if my narration of, �Now I am going into the basement,� hadn�t done the trick. I must admit I enjoyed the thrill of my heart beating faster pumping adrenaline throughout my muscles. Once down the stairs, my shoe stuck slightly to the floor; so, of course, I stooped down and stuck my finger in the gooey mess that held my shoe. I brought the goo covered finger to my face to sniff it. They do that kind of stuff in the movies all the time. Still, it didn�t want to be identified. At least, it wasn�t blood. I had nothing but my Warriors skirt to wipe it on. The time to leave presented itself. If ever there was a time to do it, now was it. But the light found something sparkly in the far corner. I pressed on finding bones too small to be human and a pet tag etched with Mistoffelees. It must have been a cat. The light went out because talking with my besties getting the rally in order ate my battery. The video was useless now so I turned it off too. My eyes adjusted after a few minutes, but I almost wish they hadn�t. Feint moon light trickled through the window wells. It, later I found out she, dropped from the ceiling with her eight shiny eyes and eight nimble legs. Why didn�t I look up when I found the sticky goop? Sticky silk tangled my legs, and close after, the one two ouchy staberoony injected venom in my back as I fell over. Oh, I yelled out a lot! No worries, I didn�t disturb any neighbors as this house sat on its secluded hill. Fumbling for EpiPens in my Warriors jacket while being hauled upside down proved difficult for me. Both of them clattered to the floor along with the two cell phones. My purse hung stupidly about my right arm and neck. The weight of it nearly strangled me. She glued me next to her egg sac. They looked like they might hatch soon. I knew I was dead. Only a few minutes remained before the venom combined with my allergies would seize me up. I looked around and found a human sized silk encased lump close by, no doubt Joe. I had to think through the pain and massive headache. The purse! I didn�t know what to use out of it, but it remained my only hope. I opened it with much difficulty and felt around: keys, lipstick, nail polish, mint gum, nail clippers, another nail polish, snow globe pen, comb, brush, emery board, eye drops, checkbook, wallet, Carmex, Chanel #5 perfume, small glass mirror � wait that wasn�t another nail polish it was a small bottle of nail polish remover. All those athletic pyramids paid off; I pulled myself somewhat upright and pored remover in my hands and rubbed it on the sticky silk strand which dissolved the glue. I managed to break the mirror and cut the silk after that. Thud, I fell to the ground. After I recovered slightly from the fall, I floundered around soon finding and using the EpiPens. She easily caught up with me. I grabbed the Chanel #5 and misted that overly large arachnid who in turn retreated. To the best of my knowledge arachnids can�t cough, however I am sure it wanted to. With the spider finally off my case, I just laid there praying that the epinephrine would work. She tried it one more time getting another face full of Chanel #5. My head cleared allowing me to think again and eventually get outside where I called for an ambulance. The authorities officially disbelieved my story. One of them knew more than he let on. His poker face slipped a little. Once I have recovered and have trained up a bit, in the words of Arnold, �I�ll be back!� (966 words) My short story inspiration comes from Edgar Allen Poe�s style where the main character tells a fantastical story from a first person perspective. The subject matter came from recent 3d model acquisitions.