The Lost Dwelling
It was a beautiful day, all the kids were waiting to leave their classrooms and go to the nearest parks to start playing. When the bells went off, students poured out the front gate one after the other like columns of ants. Two boys were the last to leave, the younger boy of around thirteen, scurried to get to the safety of his home faster he was carrying his bag while carrying a large transparent folder whose contents were clearly visible from outside. The older of the two who was roughly sixteen strolled behind trying to distance himself from the younger sibling.
Only once they turned onto a long path snaking its way through the forest directly to their residence, did they notice the dark clouds approaching from the west. They conferred whether to turn back and decided the faster they got home the better. Heavy drops started dripping down from the skies above. The younger started running ahead to find shelter to cover his work. The elder arrived to see his brother standing outside an old house.
The weary paved path sapped of its colours had small dying weeds growing out of fissures; it led up to a colossal house. The house’s roof, green with moss and caved in at one point. The windows were gloomy and aged with layers of dirt, while ivy adhered to the outer walls. Around it was unkempt undergrowth as if the house had grown up from the very ground. The relentless, chaotic rain pierced the lifeless ground around like a thousand arrows entrenching themselves into the flesh of peaceful peasants. Decaying planks barred the windows making it almost impossible for sunlight to enter.
Squelching of the kids heavy boots pounding the wet ground mixed with a flurry of the falling rain made it impossible to see any resemblance between the gentle morning and the frenzied afternoon. As rain erratically fell it created a varied tone of noises from the diverse objects it fell on. The sounds of distant foghorns sent a deep vibration up the children’s spines.
The morbid and forbidding door was heavy almost as if trying to give a warning to turn back. Its rusty handle creaked as it was turned. Inside grey streaks of black crossed the walls due to mould from the damp nights. Peeling speckles of paint lined the ground alongside the corpses of unfortunate creatures. The neglected wooden furnishings were decomposing; while the curtains hung limp and moth-eaten. The place felt still, heavy with anticipation. A pristine layer off dust lay over every surface like dirty snow untouched, except where a mountain of letters cascaded to the floor. Shafts of light came through the cracks, but were devoured by the shadows within. Intricate webs wound themselves from the walls and roofs to the beams.
An ungrateful silence, complained at every minute noise as if it was a deafening roar of thunder. The old sewage system rumbled underneath processing the rainwater collected outside. The smell of mildew mixed with the stale air and rotting remains of dead animals gave a generally sickish smell. The floorboards gave eerie moans as if they were old men who couldn’t handle their own weight. Stairs were broken and miniature daggers protruded from both sides.
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