Midnight Exploration

The house loomed large and foreboding down the drive that was about half a kilometer, shadowed by overgrowth and trees long gone. The moon loomed large in the sky above casting just enough light to make my way without a flashlight. Black paint peeled off the wrought iron gate that scratched my hand wrapped around the cold metal and let out a wail as I pushed it slowly. I allowed myself a moment of respite, taking in a few deep breaths before willing my feet to start down the drive.

The gravel road was rough with pebbles and little dips from years of snow and rain pelting it down unevenly. The only sound was the grass and weeds that moved gently in the midnight breeze that cooled my skin as I walked. No animals were walking around the trees that I could see or hear, but a smell permeated my nose that indicated a skunk or porcupine might be lingering close by. As I was taking in all my senses I reached the end of the drive and approached the house.

As the drive curved gently around the trees it ran in front of the house and lead into a dilapidated garage surrounded by tall weeds with no windows left in the window panes. Looking to the left I saw a clear path to the back of the house and spotted a small shed sitting back a ways and pushed up against the trees. Two steps lead up onto the veranda and creaked loudly as I stepped carefully and walked up to the door. The screen door was off its hinges leaning against the side of the house, the wooden frame cracked and the screen ripped wide open in the middle. In comparison to the gate at the entrance to the driveway, the brown paint was peeling off the big wooden door that isolated all that was contained within from the outside elements. I wiggled the handle a few times wiggling the key in the lock before hearing the latch give and pushed the door open.

A dust cloud formed as the door burst from the frame where it rested for some time undisturbed. The floors were surprisingly clean with the typical dirt and dust in the corners and along the baseboards, a quick sweep and mop could fix the floors up easily. Moving carefully around the place investigating each room carefully I noted that not a lot needed to be fixed or repaired as I would have assumed; some fresh paint on the walls, heavy dusting, and some scrubbing could turn this place around easily. Suspiciously, all the cupboards were bare though.

Upstairs all the doors to the rooms were closed except one: large double doors straight down the hall were partially ajar releasing a stream of moonlight on the floor. Decidedly, I made me way towards that room first by passing four other doors on the way down the hall. No light could be seen under the cracks in the doorways from any other room and I couldn't recall seeing boards covering any of the windows from the outside- suspicion rose in me once again. My mind focused on the room down the hall, however, with its two large looming doors and the little bit of light guiding me through the upstairs. One door that was smaller than the rest told me it was likely the linen closet was also partially opened and appeared to be in disarray with nothing inside folded or stacked neatly on the shelves. A particular towel stood out to me because it looked like it hadn't actually been washed due to the odd browning colour formed on it in splotches. The closet happened to be right outside the room I had my eyes set on so when I gathered my thoughts about the closet and looked forward I was inches from the room.

As before, I took a moment of respite catching my breath from all that I had discovered so far before giving a gently nudge on the doors letting them swing open freely. Moonlight filtered in through a large picture window directly across the room illuminating the entire master bedroom. Blue satin drapes hung loosely on either side of the windows with a film of dust and cobwebs streaming down from the tops and tied in the middle with grey corded tassels. To the right of the room sat a four poster mahogany bed covered in a navy bed set and two meek pillows, all of it smoothed out as if it was made and never touched. On the left side of the room was a grand marble fire place, a grey felt chair facing the fireplace making the back side apparent to me and a little mahogany table adjacent. An ashtray with a red glowing cigarette sat upon the table drawing me in for how was there still a burning smoke in an abandoned house? That's when I saw a thin, boney hand reach out and take the cigarette before retreating back behind the chair with a plume of smoke rising up into the air seconds after. Someone was here.

I didn't take the time to explain myself to whomever sat just feet away from me, I took in a sharp breath filling my lungs with dust and smoke-filled air then ran. I didn't stop to check anything else out like I had planned to for fear of getting caught by the lone person in the house that now sat behind me. I made my way down the road back to my own house; I had snuck out my window and climbed down the tree, climbing back up was seemingly more difficult. Adrenaline still coursed through my body propelling me forward and eventually I made my way into my own room safely.

The next morning at breakfast I sat exhausted from my excursion during the night last night. "Not enough sleep?" I looked over at my dad with his nose in his news paper one hand on his coffee mug legs crossed idly at the ankles. I shook my head not wanting to offer an explanation and carried on with my eggs and toast instead.

"Did you hear? Someone finally bought that plot of land down the road on the right. Took long enough, it's been sitting empty for twenty years now." My whole body shivered instantaneously. Empty? I stared at my dad quizzically wondering if he meant the same place where I explored a house last night where someone definitely was. He took note of my expression and asked what was wrong.

"Do you mean the one I used to ride my bike down to and back when I learned how to use a two wheeler?" He nodded in confirmation. Dad explained that an elderly woman lived there years ago when he was a young teenager, she lived alone because her husband and son were both killed during one of the wars- he couldn't remember which one apparently. All that's known is she fell asleep one night with a cigarette in her hand and took the whole place down in flames. Dad recalled how fire fighters were on the scene for three days straight before a news article was released vaguely describing a house fire and one death.

"I do remember that they were all baffled because they couldn't find a body, but she was never seen again. It's assumed she died in the fire, I mean, she was too old to try and get out quickly enough." He shrugged nonchalantly as though it was nothing. Of course, to him, it wasn't anything big. I was completely overtook with shock: where was I last night and who did I see if there was no house and supposedly no old lady?