Exercise #3 - Haunted Toll Booth

Write a piece that takes place in one of the following locations:
A parked car
A phone booth
A closet
A walk-in refrigerator or freezer

It was Halloween night and I was 15 years old. A few friends from school wanted me to go with them to a haunted house. My family didn't really celebrate Halloween, but as practically an adult, I believed this was a decision I could make on my own.
"Going out with some friends" I yelled on my way out.
"Make sure you are home by your curfew" my mom called back from the kitchen. "And don't get into any trouble" she added, remembering what day it was.
My friend Molly at 16 had her parent's old light blue Civic and was already honking outside of our house. I jumped into the back seat and said hi to Barb and Molly's boyfriend Jack.
None of us were dressed in costumes. Barb's party had been the previous weekend and we had all worn costumes for that. We were just doing this for the thrill.
As we drove down the gravelly, grassy, twisted dirt drive towards the mansion I began to shiver already. Molly had done some online research and found that there was a haunted house near the river. She read that there was supposed to be a family of ghosts there who had died when a tree had gone through the roof in a storm and fallen onto the couch in the living room, where they were all sitting listening to the radio. Unfortunately, they were not found, not having many friend in the area, until a few weeks later. Their bodies were removed and buried and the house had remained empty for the next 70 years. People had thought about buying the land and the house, but when they visited to see it, they felt the air chill in the rooms, and heard unexplainable movements on the floor above them and in the basement. It had been empty for so many years now that it had fallen into much disrepair. Molly had read of kids visiting it during Halloween and refusing to talk of their experience afterwords, even to each other.
We stopped the car near the front door and all got out as Molly pocketed the keys.
The porch steps were damp and rotten but they held our weight. We pushed the door and it creaked open. The locks had been removed. The inside was about what you would expect, spider webby, dusty, damp, and falling apart. The furniture was between ornate and comfortable, black with mold. We heard some scampering as we entered and figured there were mice and saw evidence of mouse droppings on the floor. We tiptoed across the foyer and into the living room where the tree still lay near the crushed couch and a giant hole was ripped through the floor above, we could see outside,through the fallen boards of the roof, the full moon shining brightly and naked branches of autumn trees barely moving in the breeze.
None of us were talking, we were close together, looking at everything, a little spooked. We decided to split up, just like in scary movies, when the characters split up and the one cop is facing the bad guy in the dark of night and you wonder who will win and why the cop didn't wait for back up. It was really an unspoken decision, Molly and her boyfriend wandered towards the kitchen and Barb was looking closely at something in the dining room. I decided to go upstairs. I creaked up the stairs, barely touching the splintery banister. The first room I saw at the top looked like a child's room. There was a small bed in the corner and a dresser. The closet door was open a crack and had a little light coming out of it. I thought that was strange and decided to investigate. I opened the door and saw an old phone booth. Did they even have phone booths 90 years ago I wondered. It was an old booth, very dusty and the glass smudged and dirty. The phone was in the corner of the booth and dim light was shining from an old light bulb hanging from the small ceiling.
I saw a phone book (I don't think they had those 100 years ago either) and decided to look up my family's name. My parents and grand parents had all grown up in the area. It might help me to figure out what time this booth was from. I looked up my last name Morrison. My great grandfather's name, Morrison, Alvin, was there with a phone number. I felt compelled to try to call that number. I put a penny into the slot (It said 1 cent above the slot) and heard it clink down and dialed the number.
"Hello" a young man's voice said.
"Hi, I am Laura Morrison, who is this?" I asked.
"It's Alvin Morrison" he responded, "do I know you?"
I began to shake, my great grandfather had been dead for about 30 years at least. He spent his last years in a retirement community, my father had said.
"I think I am your great granddaughter" I said slowly.
"I don't even have children yet, is this a prank call?" He asked starting to sound angry.
"Sorry" I said, hanging up.
My palms were wet, my voice was quivering.
I turned to leave the phone booth in the closet, feeling very strange. I seemed to be shrinking, my chest felt very heavy, as if someone was sitting on it. The bedroom was now well lit, the furniture and floors clean, the bed made in fresh linens.
"Sarah" a woman called from downstairs.
I looked down and was now dressed in a gingham nightgown. I saw brown braids reaching over my shoulders. What was going on?
I opened my mouth to say, "Molly" but out came "Coming Ma" in a different voice, higher pitched and younger.
As the months passed me by and I waited for the tree to fall on our house and hopefully pop me back into the future, I had moments of almost forgetting. Was I really Sarah? Did I really live here? I looked back in the closet over and over for the phone booth, but it was gone. I had nothing to prove that I was not Sarah other than my memories. Sometimes I thought those were dreams and Sarah was the real one.
What would happen if I made sure that we were never all sitting on the couch during a storm, would I grow up here and live my life out in this past era? Would I just die with the family? Would I become the ghost of the little girl if we did die?
A year and a half later, I was listening to the radio after helping ma set the table for dinner. A storm was forecast for later that evening. I made sure we were all on that couch as I did not want to remain Sarah forever and thought even an unforseeable future would be better. We were listening to the radio and I heard a crack of thunder and heard a crashing sound.
Molly called from downstairs to see where I was. I breathed a huge sigh of relief, realizing that I had caught up with the future and become myself again. I looked into the empty child's closet and ran downstairs to catch up with my friends.
For years I have looked for that phone booth. Searches online, research and visits to multiple haunted houses, all have resulted in nothing, but this is the first time I've told my story.