Moving To That: A Short Story

Everything comes flooding back, the old house, the writing and the creature. I quickly sit up wires pull on my arms. A woman dressed in all white comes over to me.

What was once a beautiful but small lawn with grass is now a patch of dead grass with dirt exposing itself under the grass. What was once the creaky barn doors are completely destroyed, with broken glass on the ground on the outside, leading to the inside. What was once the living room where I had spent so much time watching television and playing games with my siblings, now has its carpet completely torn up, walls indented, and closet in complete shambles with light gleaming sharply through the holes of the closet from holes that were made by vandals who never knew the true value of the humble abode that I used to reside in. My old home, since being lived in by me and my family has since been abandoned by the family that we had entrusted the house to previously. Now the house just stays there, an eerie empty shell of what it used to be. A place where I was safe and happy, now a dark and scary place that no one deserves to live in, a place that humans have indeed used well, so well that there is nothing left of what it used to be. That image of the house was the last I saw it, back in 2010, It is possible now that the house had since been destroyed, with the memories that have been carved into the walls, fireplace, windows, closets, and bedrooms, are now nothing more but a blur of destroyed objects that will one day be removed, as people pass by the home that once was will never be able to see its clarity, but instead will only be able to see the blur of colors protruding from the exterior of the house, or perhaps the brown of the barn like doors, or the patches of green still rising from the dead grass that surrounds it, until eventually, it simply disappears completely invisible to the city that used it ever so

I unlock the metal gate and climb onto the front patio. Before me stands a two-story house with newly-refurbished windows and a fresh coat of white paint. I admire the house’s beauty as I stroll past it. I walk through a crowded path of mohintli, white laelia, tithonia, and dahlias that seem to guide me to the real reason I am at this address. After moving the branches of some avocado trees out of the way, I finally find the treasure I am seeking: a small rose-colored house with just two windows and two rooms. With the key my father gave me, I open the doors to enter the rooms. The light switch does not work, so only shadows are present in the room. Giant cracks graze the walls like the markings of a lion. On the ceiling, an intricate flower design shines proudly with the rest of the room, slowly losing its will to decay. Only broken furniture stands in the corners of the room, ashamed to be present in front of a girl from the North. After taking a deep breath to calm my emotions, I lock the door, look to the sky, and walk back to the house I am staying at with my

The coldness all around me as I step outside my car. The dark clouds hug far above my head. As I prepare myself for the challenge that lies ahead. It was the middle of the winter and the trees looked like twigs. As I walk around the leaves crunching under my boots. I carry a camera as I head toward the creepy, noisy house. The singing of James inside the car could be heard all over the country. I keep walking forward to get a better look at this house I could see the paint wearing off and the windows boarded up. I look at my phone in horror and realize that it's close to dead. Thunder boomed over my head as rain started to come down. I walk up to the gate and open it. The gate creaked open and I look upon the yard. The grass was dead the stone path looked like pebbles. The house looked fragile as if it was about to collapse I gulped down my fear as I push onward.

At the front gate, there were weeds all over what used to be a garden. The door suddenly swung on its creaky hinges. Pitch black. You couldn’t see a thing in the cabin. Every couple of minutes shingles would fall off the roof. I was scared. Terrified. Then I heard creaking floorboards.

I couldn’t breath. Dust was everywhere. Our little town of Lakewood in Oklahoma, has vanished. Cars were now piles of dust on the road. Crops were now dry and nowhere to be seen. My eyes burned and itched. Our house was once a home, but now it looked dark. Dark and scary. It was not as white as it used to be. It always looked happy and felt like a home. But now our house, didn’t feel or look like a home. The walls were cracked and the windows were full of dust. The floors were scratched and clawed. Our beds and blankets are not safe places anymore. The food that we consume, tastes raw, bitter, and has no flavor. We’re eating and swallowing dust everyday. Pa has tired marks on his face. Ma doesn’t cook us our favorite meals anymore. Rose and

Dread and sorrow wash throughout me. We spent so long in this cursed building to prevent us from ending up like we did. I furrow my brows. The foul smell of rotting old wood came upon my senses. Now, I could only taste dryness in my throat. This attic has still not changed one bit.

I took a deep breath as I walked through the doorway. The door was stuck open, hanging on just one of its hinges. It was clear that no one had been near this place in a long time. As I entered, a stench hit me. It smelt sickly sweet, almost like rotten fairy floss. I looked around the room at the faded and ripped wallpaper, and the broken furniture. The air was so thick with dust it was almost impossible to breathe, and everything was thickly covered with dust. The little light there was came from the cracks in the yellowed blinds.

It was summer time and I was finally home from college in Maine, My family’s house is in Upstate New York and I’m an only child so my parents didn’t need a huge house, Though the house was small it was very old Build and built famous Architect in Buffalo, New York. It was a wonderful house with French doors with a full basement and big rooms for all of us. We all enjoyed our times there the happy, sad, funny, and wonderful experiences, it wasn’t a place I would call “Haunted” Sure it had those creeks in the middle of the night and those weird cracks and groans from the age of the house. As far as I knew it was all Normal, But I was wrong...

She makes her way to the room when getting closer to the room she saw how it was so eerie and shady looking. She again shook off the feeling and entered the room. Looking around she looks at the baren room. The wallpaper crumbling off the edges of the wall, the bed sheets old and dusty showing no one has been in this room for weeks maybe months. She walks over to the bed sitting her stuff down in the nearby chair. Laying down on the

The next morning I walk downstairs and find that the kitchen is decorated as if it were a beach or Hawaii. I am very confused as to why the house is decorated so strangely . I am very confused because I do not live with anyone. While walking through the kitchen I seem to notice a piece of glass on the floor,as I pick up the glass I see that the window was broken.

When you wonder at night the door will shriek across the moldy floor. The shutters will open and close, and open and close. OPEN HOUSE, there is a new house on the market. One that has lots of character. One with exterior that is crinkling and washing away. With blood of the last calling your name. The front porch is caved in like someone was murdered just before coming in. The lawn not mowed. When you get to the rough and cracked concrete you would enter but you can’t the black shadow that passed the door faster than i light. the blood marks on the rails down to the deck and on to the door handle. Now it's your turn, when the deep wail of the wind carried with dirt gets in your eye now you start to cry. this is not a place for children no no sir this is for all those who don't believe

As I stepped foot into the house, I noticed that there was no longer wood crackling each time I would walk. The house smelt as if you had just bought a new car, and it was a lot bigger. I was happy, but that did

The smell look of his rotting face made brand my stomach churn and it was all I could do not to vomit vomitive then and there. His nails were dark and bloody, but I wasn't sure if it was his blood dripping from them. Finally I saw his gross discoloured discolouloss skin close enough to see that it was falling apart. It was falling away from his muscle, his bones. brawniness , his finger cymbals . I saw everything that I never wanted to see. In that instant, somehow, my body found breakthrough itself, discovered how to move again. I ran ravel as fast as I could.

The house is alive, you understand as you cross the doorstep. You could hear its heart beating, the veins hiding in the walls. You open a door with a familiar purple tint, discovering nothing less than a dark room with a strongly clean smell. Your finger lightly touches the light switch on your left, exactly where you knew it would be. The reflection of the moving water under the fluorescent lamp made the room light up in an eerie