The House

In response to the blog on 5 senses, I decided that hey, why not just do a small write up? :)

"So, everyone who went in never came out huh?" I mumble as I slowly approach the house. Drenched in rain, I shiver. The wind was strong enough to blow away my trusty umbrella when I made my way into the forest and up the hill. As a journalist, I wish to tell the world about what is inside this eerie house. I tie my hair in a ponytail, determined to write up an article that will take the world by storm. I go up to the door and expect some difficulty opening it. A complicated lock, probably. But with one single push the door relented. Easy. I close the door behind me to block out the howling wind. The stale smell in the house overwhelmed me, making me choke on the air I breathe. It takes me a while to adjust to the smell. The windows are blurry and little light is able to come in and brighten up the path before me. I rifle through my bag in search of my torch light. Hold up- where'd it go? I can't find it. Eyes widened, I check through my bag again, this time even bore thoroughly, but to no avail. I swallow hard, thinking," Perhaps there's a switch." I run my hand along the wooden walls, a thick layer of dust accumulating on my fingers. Then my hand hit something. A small, rectangular box covered in spider webs. I press the switch on it and the bulb lights up. Not much, but better than nothing. I turn around to face the corridor, long and seemingly endless. It's bigger than I thought, but I can manage. I take my first step and the wooden planks beneath me creaks. Little by little, I move further into the house. I dig into my bag and whip out my camera. The flickering blub provide our lighting, so I turn on the flash of my camera. Outside, it continues to rain in torrents. Not too far away, I see a table of antiques. Intrigued, I hold up my camera and go closer to the table. Just then, there's a sudden loud clap of thunder. Shocked, I drop my camera just as the picture was about to be taken. The light flashes and I see something shiny in the corner of my eye. Picking up my camera, I slowly approach the shiny object. It turns out to be a compass. A very familiar one. Dad's one. "Sweetie, I'll be away for a while. I need to write an article for the company," Dad says as he strokes my hair," I'll be back soon!" "Okay Daddy," I reply, munching on my breakfast. As he walks out of the door, I wonder when we'll meet again. But that never happened. Suddenly, the lights go out. I search frantically for Dad's compass and when I find it, I clutch it tightly in my hand. Sensing something ominous, I turn and head for the door. However, it seems like an impossible task. I don't know where I'm going. I can't see anything. Just pitch, black, darkness. "Oh a visitor," says a voice from behind. W-what the heck. I want to turn around to meet the source of the voice but at the same time, I'm scared. My heart thumps against my chest furiously and I feel a sudden shortage of oxygen. I don't know what to do so I just follow my first instinct. Run. I charge forward, making my best exterior to run away from this horrible place. Into the darkness I go, my hair swishing behind me. The floor creaks with every step. I don't hear footsteps behind me, but that doesn't mean he's not there. The rain continues to pour and thunder roars outside. It gets louder and louder to the point that it feels unbearable. I want to scream but my throat feels strangled and dry. Helpless. Hopeless. Tears stream out of my eyes and I try to wipe them dry with the sleeve of my coat. My other hand holds the compass. "It'll always tell you the way out," Dad used to say. I pray that today, the compass will do it's magic. I make a turn. The door should be a few steps away. I run towards it and tackle the lock. C'mon, don't fail me now. I feel myself panting, both from tiredness and fear. Unlike earlier, the door doesn't open. I bang on the door with all my remaining strength. "Help, anyone out there?" I attempt to shout, but it came out as a weak cry. I have to get out. "Don't bother trying," the voice speaks again. This time I turn subconsciously. His voice seems distant and cold, sending a shiver down my spine. With no good source of light, I can't really make up his features. I stick closely to the wall as if I could disappear into it. No, don't get closer to me. I resume my desperate attempts to push open the door. My hand hurts but I ignore it. Before long, I feel a warm liquid on my knuckles, trickling down and dripping onto the wood. Holding back my tears, I bite my lower lip hard to distract myself from the pain. Step by step, he gets closer to me. I hold my breath as the footsteps got louder by the second. Then, he stops. In front of me he stood, a tall lanky figure. As lightening strikes outside, the small amount of light allows me to see the sharp features on his pale white face. I twist my mouth as he bends down to meet me face to face. I imagine his face, smirking at me. I want to kick him away from me but my legs won't listen. All I did is to stand there stupidly, face blank. He sighs as he stands up straight. "Why don't you come join me for tea?"