Knock Knock

My hair fluttered, the trees rustled endlessly by the wild cold blue wind. I was already fatigued and exhausted from all the walking. The street stood as empty as any desert. The silence pressed on me and all I could hear was the beating of my own heart, the loud breathings I made and the scuffing noise of my own shoes as I stumbled down the sidewalk. The light from the lamp post was dim, the street cables were tangled above and the road was secludedly vacant. Then, there was an old abandoned mansion that caught my eyes. From the front it looked like a house that might have belonged to a rich family about 20 years ago. Old dusty doors and windows, white colored stairs but they were already dingy, the plasterwork was falling away, and weeds were sprouting all around the house. Surprisingly, even though most of the windows were dark, there was still some light so I assumed there might be someone in there. 

     With some great courage and hope, I ran across the desolate lane, stood in front of the entrance and knocked on the shabby door. No one answered but after several knocks, a woman who was about 40 years old, came to open the door. I couldn’t really see what she looked like because it was dark but I could see that she was wearing a blue apron with a light pink dress underneath. Her hair was tied up and she  probably has been cooking since she was holding a ladle. “Hi ma'am, sorry to disturb you but I had been travelling a long journey till now and I really need a place to spend the night.  If you don’t mind, may I stay here for a night please?” I requested. She smiled and said, “Of course dear, make yourself home.” I thankfully went inside. She closed the door, and locked it. 

The inside of the house was filled with swirling dust that was falling across the floors. The corners were filled with glooms and shadows. “Did one of those shadows just move?” I asked myself. I felt a shiver down my spine and my blood chill in my veins like it does when you feel you are being watched by someone or something. The lady brought me to a room and said that I could spend the night there. It was a very disordered and a very dusty room. Papers were peeling from the walls. Every piece of furniture was broken as if somebody had destroyed them purposely. The room’s floors were rotten and old. As I look around, I peer up at the old ceiling. Extremely old that the plasters were dangling like tentacles. And the air was filled with some kind of dank smell. 

     Luckily, I fell asleep at about two in the morning. I didn’t have a good sleep but what actually scares me and drifts me away from the house is the fact that nothing looked the same as last night. The lady, papers peeling from the walls, broken furniture, everything wasn’t there anymore. At full tilt, I packed my bag and left the house. I could describe it as terrifying, but blood curdling would be more applicable to it.