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The House
I’m walking, home and then I see her. Violet, the one who lives in the...house. The house at the end of the street. The house of hell, or so they say. You’ve never heard of Violet, not even the house? Get ready.
She walks alone.
You can hear the soft footsteps produced from the connection of her feet barely cushioned with her worn down converse sneakers and the ground. *tap tap*. Everyone ignores her, stays clear of her sight. She walks into her house, the rundown, taken-over-by-ivy, falling down excuse of a home. Her porch barely supported, the poles being eaten away by termites, bound to fall any moment. When I was little, I saw a movie. Where the house at the end of the street was the creepiest house, where nobody went trick-or-treating at because there were rumors that people died there. The generic, stereotypical story. I always believed that they were fake, but guess what…
I
Was.
WRONG.
People walk past her house and get chills. Chills down their spine as if a ghost had gone through them. Some people say that it’s haunted- that they see shadows lurking around the stained windows. Some people say that it’s abandoned, but only She knows the truth. No, not Violet-SHE. SHE KNOWS THE TRUTH! Only She. She is Violet, but Violet is NOT She. As if She had taken over Violet’s body, and bad things have happened since. Very bad things, inexplicable things. I’ve heard stories about people walking into the house, never to return, and a squirrel jumping onto the tree, only to be found dead on the yellow grass that never grew, a dirt yard, if you will. The grass will never be alive, for all that is under is dead. Oh yes, dead. This house had been a murder house, a slaughter house, until SHE came and knocked it all down. People thought she was a saint, to be brave enough to knock down the horrid house, only to make an even putrid home. No one has said a word to her, but people said that they’ve seen HER. Until that fateful day, when all the lights in the house never turned on, even the streetlight was dead! Oh yes, She was gone… or so they say. There, there is the house! Wait a minute! Who… who is that? What?! Why is she coming here… it’s...it’s SHE! Go away, get back! Don’t come any closer. I’ve said too much! No! No! Be warned if She-
This is a piece that I wrote in my creative writing class. If weren't for my amazing teacher, I would have never gotten the oppurtunity to write this. I hope you enjoy this thriller/mystery short story! I guarantee there will be more to come. Thank you!