The old House - Creative writing.

Kaycee Groves

The old House

In the Western Part of Virginia, America, an old tattered house, sadly sat waited for a visitor. A year and then two past but still no one visited the sad lonely house. But on a cold September Night, a man with his dog came across the old lonely house. The man glanced into the woods, and noticed the old house in the distance. The trees were swaying backward and forward that surrounded the full moon in the sky. The man and his dog slowly walked across toward the house; where the old house cried for attention. The old house sat patiently in the dark windy woods. The loud sound of ‘hooting’ from the owls distracted the man walking toward the house. The old house got angry and was no longer patient. Thunder and rain fell from the dark sky; and crashed down into the woods. The man anxiously looked around with paranoia like an American soldier in Vietnam. The man looked for his dog but was she was no were to be seen. The man ran toward the house.

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Through the trees, the man entered the house’s territory. The war had begun. He fell into the mud with his face drenched with soil and water. The storm stopped. At last they were face to face; the house stared at the man. The man slowly looked up towards the house like a puppy that has just wet itself. The night sky was lit up with tiny candles. The man wiped the mud off his face like if he was a criminal unmasking himself. The moon was just visible over the roof of the house, light shined into his face like a torch revealing his face. The mans face was like an old soggy newspaper. The old house looked at the man not knowing what to do. The man got up and picked up a shovel by the house and he held it underneath his arm like a gun. The man climbed up the old wooden stair. The old wooden house’s defence was low, and he kicked the broken doors in revealing the house’s secrets. The enemy was in.

The moon disappeared into the sky. Dark clouds blanketed the wet house drying it like a towel. The man inside looked around seeing nothing but an empty rooms. The sound of footsteps entered the room; the man had big old army boots on. The house was quiet but ‘scared’. However the man was terrified, he looked around anxiously with his long hair caught in his face like glue. His clothes were all wet with his green trousers all covered in mud, and his leather jacket that looked like it had been chewed by his dog.

Crows sat on top of the house. The wind became strong; the window blinds Banged and Crashed. The water was brushed off the roof of the house that watered corpses by the window. Inside the house the man heard the noise. It was from a small room by the watered window. The room was dark and dusty, the floorboards was broken. He heard a soft and quiet sound of humming of the song ‘You are my Sunshine’. The man slowly entered the room. He smiled and slowly put the rusty shovel down by the door. It was a little girl sitting, facings towards the wall. He asked the girl what she was doing here, she didn’t reply, but kept on humming the song ‘You are my Sunshine’. The sound of the old grandfather clock struck twelve midnight. He looked around, he saw masks. Masks of humans, faces of humans, the flesh decomposing on head stands. The man was span around seeing people’s body on the wall, arms and legs that had rotted and the stench was like milk that had gone off.

The man screamed to the girl: “let’s get out of here”.

He grabbed her, she turned around. Her face was filled with rooting flesh and blood, and her eyes were all white. Her face crinkled up revealing her inside of her mouth. Her teeth, rotted in blood like the house is in the woods. The man stared at the girl screamed. The crows flew away with their wings brushing in the wind. Now just the sound of the clock that struck twelve midnight filled the sound in the air.

In the Western Part of Virginia the tattered old house, sadly sat and waited for another, unsuspecting visitor...