The house was a dull shade of gray. It seemed like nothing had touched it for years, but it had been well worn. Excitement flooded through me as I walked in the door. No one has ever mustered the courage to come this far into this house ever since it was abandoned on that cold, wintery night.
The floorboards creaked and groaned as I walked across them cautiously, careful not to disrupt the silence. The wood floor was layered with dust, my old tennis shoes shaping footprints behind me. The first room was almost completely empty, except for a velvet rocking chair to the left, facing the doorway. Facing me.
There was one window, the curtains pulled closed, sunlight flowing through the gaps. The walls were made of solid concrete, their rough edges sticking out near the small brick fireplace on the opposite side of the room. There was a hallway off to the right, which I took, eager to find something interesting to tell about back home.
The wooden floor stopped once I turned, and became concrete, just like the walls. There was one lone picture frame, sitting in the middle of the hall. I walked towards it, my heart leaping into my chest. Looking down into it, I saw just the floor. It was empty. Frustrated and let down, I continued down the hallway.
To the left, I saw an old door, partially falling off the hinges. There was an old mailslot through the middle, the latch broken off. I bent down slowly, looking through the hole. There was no furniture as far as I could see, but there were more picture frames, scattered all around the floor, some hanging crookedly off of a nail on the wall.
I pushed the door open, my mind racing with the all information the frames could be holding. All the stories might be true. They might not have been far from what had really happened. I could finally know what happened to the owner of this unwanted house. A name suddenly came into mind, and before I knew it I had spoken it.
Suddenly a large lump formed in my throat. It stuck, and wouldn’t swallow down. My chest seemed to drop, my heart beating harshly against its cage of ribs. My stomach hurt and boiled with the effort to stay upright. I knew who had lived there. I had known them. I felt warm liquids slowly oozing their way up my throat, burning, seething. My teeth clenched, my fists balled up, knuckles turning white. I felt my blood drain from my face, imagining my pale skin, I shivered.
My feet tingled, needles puncturing them endlessly. My knees shook. I leaned on the wall, it’s cold texture shocking my warm, pasty skin. Sweat ran down my forehead, and my feet slipped. I fell to the ground, landing with a forever sounding thump. My heart slowly, slowly thudded. Ringing swelled through my head. The shock ended. My hands became cold, my feet losing feeling, the piercing needles crawling up to my waist. The needles reached my chest, but there was nothing left to rupture.
Author Notes: Tried a new Genre.... did it work out okay? Send reviews/comments and please rate! C: