Never ignore the minority

I stared hard at the old ruined building.
It's falling-to-bits boarded-up windows creaked with the winter wind. I
shoved my hands in my pockets, it was cold, and the site of the house
sent an extra shiver down my spine. My parents had bought it, thinking
they could transform it into a luxurious hotel, fat chance. Not with
protesters standing outside holding signs in their hand saying- 'leave
our landmark alone!'
It was stupid really, why would anyone want to keep a creepy place like
that in a nice pretty area? The hotel could bring the small coastal
shops business, I mean they hardly get any.
There was to be a meeting on Thursday night. A meeting in which the
locals could express their worthless views on why the wreck should be
kept. As you have probably guessed, my view was to get rid of the
stupid supposed landmark.
Thursday came and people packed into the tiny village hall. I situated
myself on the front row of seats, so to stop myself from seeing any of
those rowdy protesters.
"Hello and welcome to- The Hanwell house transformation meeting. We
are all here today to express our views on the demolition of Hanwell
house-" My father said, but was cut off by boos from the some of the
locals, he carried on, "that is to be replaced by a hotel, that will be
named Hanwell Hotel." There was further boos from the crowd. My fathers
expression tightened, he was clearly angry. I didn't blame him.
"We, the Drake family, are planning to, as my husband has said,
transform the house into something of worth. A hotel," My Mother said,
boos again, "But before you judge this to be a bad thing- let me just
reassure you that it isn't. Let's look at it from a financial point of
view. This hotel, could bring you money. It would bring tourists to the
coast, and tourists buy souvenirs, souvenirs that you, the locals could
supply. Your small business's could become large ones and the
unemployed people of this town could start a business, maybe something
to do with building a seaside attraction, I'm sure you could get a
grant to help you with this. As more tourists come and go, the town
starts to get more popular. Is this really that bad?" She said, not
expecting anyone to answer, but there was a few boo's from the
locals.
"Yes, that is good. But it's not that that we're protesting about,
it's the fact that you're turning our local landmark into something
that isn't a landmark! That's a place that is known for it's history,
it's ghost's, it's past!" A man had stood up and was using heavy hand
gestures to make his speech more intimidating, my mother hesitated but
came up with an answer.
"It'll still have it's past, it's history, and it's supposed ghost's!
Just it'll be more luxurious, a place where people can look into that
history, appreciate that past, and experience those ghost's. The
Historic Hanwell Hotel, a place with a past, but also a place
introducing the future of tourism." My mother had answered that
question well.
"Well said!" One of the more sensible, understanding locals had stood
up and was clapping, some others joined them, but there was still a
fair few just sat in their seats looking sternly at their fellow
locals. After a while they sat and the meeting carried on.
"Also, we're not knocking it down, just refurbishing it, and maybe
adding a few bits on, it'll still have it's original look, just it'll
look new! You don't want it to stay shabby forever do you? It'll fall
to bits! As it is already!" My Mum said, "Towns are moving on into the
future, yours doesn't want to be left behind! If you do leave it
behind, it'll be forgotten about, along with it's history, past, and
ghost's!"
"But you can't change it! It's a listed building!" A man stood up,
pointing his finger at my mother. I didn't know how she would get out
of this one, if it's listed then you can't change it.
"Aha! That's where we tell you your bad news. We're allowed to change
it, but not knock it down, and also we have planning permission to do
this, so the planning authority say it's ok!" The man shuffled
uncomfortably, my mother focused her attention on getting the vote
done, to stop herself from laughing in his face.
"And now that's where our meeting ends. We shall have a vote. On your
way out you will be handed a slip of paper, and a pen. If you could
take time to write what you are in favour of on this paper, we will be
very grateful. Then post them in the box over there," She pointed to a
box in the corner of the hall. "There will be a meeting tomorrow in
which we will tell you the decision of the majority. Thank you for
coming." My mother said, and sat down. She gave a sigh of relief.
People started leaving the hall, I went over to my mum and
congratulated her on how she conducted the meeting.

The next day was very tense in our house, one glass was broken, my
brother was shouted at what must have been a zillion times, and my Dad
cut himself accidentally with a knife. We eventually and very hurriedly
made our way down to the hall, and my parents assembled themselves on
the seats at the front, facing everyone. Me and my brother took seats
at the back, facing them.
I managed to see the vote counter (who was a close friend of my mums)
hurry up to her and tell her the news. My mother showed no emotion, so
I didn't know what the outcome was.
"Hello everyone, we have counted the votes, and the majority have
decided they want to turn Hanwell House into Hanwell Hotel. I apologize
to the minority.
At once there was applause in the little hall, but I could hear a few
boos from the minority.
"Stop! Stop! You will pay for this! I curse you, the spirits of the
house will haunt you forever!" An old woman all dressed in black had
stood up and was shouting at my parents, "You won't be able to sleep at
night, you won't go anywhere without seeing spirits and demons! When
you're alone I curse you, I curse" She was cut off, two locals had got
her arms and were dragging her out of the hall. She was struggling and
spitting while shouting out some sort of curse at my Mum and Dad. I was
very disturbed by this.
I looked at my Mum, she didn't look bothered at all, she had a kind of
'your pathetic' look on her face. My Dad though, he looked scared out
of his mind at this. My mother noticed this and whispered something in
his ear, probably reassuring him that it would be ok. The crowd had
become noisy and were talking worriedly.
"Calm down, nothing will happen! She's just making it up!" My mother
shouted over the noise, they calmed down and there was silence. "So the
house will be transformed into a hotel. Our meeting has now ended." She
nodded and sat down.
People started leaving and we made our way out of the hall and back to
our house.
And so the hall was refurbished and made into Hanwell Hotel. It looked
grand. Very posh, we had had photo's taken and put in holiday
brochures, even some of the locals who had been against the idea,
commented on how lovely the hotel looked.
That night after we had locked up the hotel, we went home and sat on
the sofa. With a cup of tea, we talked about the new hotel.
"Oh, I forgot the sugar in my tea, I'll just get some." My Mother
said. She walked into the kitchen, a moment later we heard a terrifying
scream. "They're everywhere! Get them away from me!" We heard a smash,
and my Father got up and rushed to the kitchen. I followed. My Mum was
stood there, it seemed as though she was trying to brush something off
of her, the broken mug was scattered on the floor and a dead ant was
floating in the tea that also covered the floor. She suddenly stopped
when she noticed us.
"They're gone." She turned to look at us, her face all red with tears.
"There was demon looking things flying around me, they kept coming
close and touching me. Oh Monica! Get away from here. Go somewhere safe
with Tom! That curse, it's come true!" She collapsed in my Fathers arms
and started to cry like she'd never cried before.

The echo of the scream rang in my head. We should never have ignored
the minority.