Cloggy’s Ghost – #penablekidscomp

Blackpool Pleasure Beach

This is my entry for the Penable Kids Short Story Competition. If you haven’t checked out Penable yet, you should head over there as it is filled with inspiration for writers, short stories, poetry and fun competitions like this one! So here it is, my short story…

Cloggy’s Ghost

During my holidays, I went to Blackpool Pleasure Beach, a very old funfair dating back to 1896. The ride I wanted to go on most was the Ghost Train, so I headed straight there. It looked pretty scary, with a giant skeleton on top of a castle it was easy to find. The carriages were shaped like monsters, but I didn’t feel too scared.

At the entrance, there was a zombie in a box trying to escape. That didn’t scare me. Neither did the man with his head chopped off, the vampire, the werewolf, or even the skeletons riding bikes!

I was a bit disappointed when I climbed off the ride, as I had expected to be more scared. Just as I was heading for the exit, I felt someone tap on my shoulder. I thought it was my Grandad, who had been riding in the carriage with me, but when I looked up, he was in front of me, so it can’t have been him. When I looked behind, there was nobody there.

As I walked away from the ride, I saw a scary man with googly eyes rolling around in opposite directions; he had a creepy smile with rotten teeth and hands with long bony fingers. He looked at me and laughed, a wicked cackling laugh. And then he disappeared before my eyes. I asked my Grandad if he’d seen him, but he said he hadn’t seen a thing.

*** ***

When I got home, I read the history of the Pleasure Beach. The Ghost Train was built in 1936 and said to be haunted by the ghost of a former ride operator named Cloggy. I asked my mum about this, and she said she remembered him from when she went on the Ghost Train as a child. He used to scare the passengers as they got on the ride. I asked my mum what he looked like:

“He was pretty scary,” she told me, “he had googly eyes which rolled around in opposite directions; a creepy smile with rotten teeth, and hands with long bony fingers. When he laughed, he had a wicked, cackling laugh.”

I told my mum that I had seen him too, but she said that I must’ve been mistaken:

“Cloggy died over 20 years ago.”

I remembered how he had disappeared in front of my eyes, and felt a chill of fear shiver down my spine.

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