Museum: the Haunting

It was hours past midnight; a time everyone was deep asleep in bed, dreaming dreams for tomorrow and giving the vassal we call a body, a rest. As curious as a phantom cat, I hid in the deepest parts of the museum, eager to see a superstition come true; yes, an old superstition. It was said that the museum was haunted, with curses carried from Pharaohs' Valley of the Dead to New York City. At twenty minutes past three, I heard whispers and soft footsteps - they were coming from an art gallery's section. Curiosity got the best hold of me, and suddenly I found myself at the door transfixed! People from different time periods of history were crawling out from their paintings-they didn't walk like zombies; they walked normally like you and me. All they talked about was happiness themed; they talked as though it was day. I remember how I couldn't feel my legs or face, as I watched the scene. From then on, I got goose bumps whenever I sat at a coffee shop, visited a friend, or attended an auction with paintings....