The Grantham House
Loneliness Lives in Those Walls
If walls could talk... you might be surprised at what they'd say!!!
The realtor unlocked the front door of an old worn-out craftsman-style house built in 1908.
"The house was purchased in 1909 by Grant Grantham III and his wife Eunice with their daughter Emily," the realtor told Bill and Taffy as they entered the house.
They took a walk through the cob-webby dusty house.
Bill glanced at the termite infested wood fixtures, "This is no afternoon delight," He exclaimed.
Taffy said, "I get a sad lonely feeling from this house. The vibe doesn't feel right, but at the same time I like it."
"She's a real fixer upper. But look at her, she's a beauty," the realtor encouraged the young couple.
Bill and Taffy looked at each other.
Taffy spoke up, "We'd like to see some of the other houses you have available."
The realtor nodded and the three left.
As the trio stepped out of the house a chamber of echoes cried from the walls, "No! No! No! Please don't leave."
There was a profound sadness coming from the walls.
"This house has been empty for sixty-five years," one of the walls yelled out.
"Please, please come back, I feel naked without any paintings or shelves covering my breasts," another wall pleaded.
"I have been haunted," spoke a gray withered voice from the master bedroom, "I had to witness Mr. Grantham's horrifying death in 1909. He was only 32."
All four walls in the master bedroom chillingly chanted, "He died from the fever, fever, fever." The north facing wall ended the chorus with a long howling solo, "Feee...ver!"
From the kitchen came a faint high pitched female voice, "Eunice never remarried and she raised their three-year-old daughter on her own."
"It wasn't easy! But Grant and the Grantham family left her very well off," sang an old blustery voice from the East facing wall in the Great Room.
"Emily was a good child. Always went to school never got too wild," says a voice from the bedroom.
Then all the walls joined in together in a sing song chorus, "Those Were the glory days. When this house was a home. Emily with her cute girly ways. No one was ever alone."
The West facing wall in the Great Room, next to the front door, ended the chorus in a crystal clear high pitched soprano voice, "Alone. Alone. Alone."
The entire house sang with glee, "Tick tock, tick clock she's grown up so beautiful. Tick tock, tick tock wedding bells responsible."
All went quiet in the house, the lights dimmed, and a cool breeze chilled the walls.
The East wall in the master bedroom spoke a sullen speech, "She was 41 years old and left alone in the vacuum of silence. She locked the doors and forgot her friends to live a life of solitude. Eunice never got over the loss of her husband, but her daughter was her joy."
The windows became fogged, and the walls turned gray as the years quietly rolled on.
She slept all day, barely ate her food, her face turned wrinkled and weathered.
The door hinges rusted, and water faucets leaked. Eunice lost her ability to walk and speak.
1958 was the year Eunice left this earth. Emily turned fifty-two years old the day after her mom died. She returned to the house for a month and sold off all her mom's belongings, including the furniture. The photos and the locket her father gave her mom she kept. The house was empty and lonelier than ever before.
As the years went on, Emily forgot about the house. Her estate lawyers paid the taxes and other expenses.
Life bled from the house, the walls went lifeless, and the windows darkened.
Not a peep, not a sound, no tender loving care.
Soon the house became inhabited by rodents, termites, and roaches.
After 65 years of quiet and loneliness the walls were imprisoned with anger and frustration with no way of letting it out.
They needed life in the house to bring their cheer and amusement back.
That day in 2023 as Bill and Taffy walked out of the house the walls punched with fury and shook with fear. They couldn't bear another sixty-five years in silence.
They shook and shook so hard that the foundation broke loose, and the walls caved in. The house collapsed with all its life, joy, and secrets forever silenced in the walls.
About the Creator
Rick Henry Christopher
Writing is a distraction to fulfill my need for intellectual stimulus, emotional release, and soothing the bruises of the day.
The shattered pieces of life will not discourage me.
https://www.facebook.com/groups/vocalplusassist
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Comments (25)
I agree with a lot of these comments, so many stories hidden in old homes. Really well done!
I actually feel sorry for a house.
Such a chilling perspective to share! We’ll written!
Love this! So hauntingly wonderful, especially the chorus of "Fee...ver!"
I believe every house retains memories and remnants of families that made it home. Great story.
If a room expansion happens, then doesn't that mean at a bare minimum that one wall was murdered? If there's another room on the other side of the wall, then two walls were murdered. Then, if there's an entrance doorway between the two rooms that the walls are, there's a small sliver of a wall that's a doorway if a wall is viewed as a plane, having an X and Y dimension. That would mean a triple kill or Killimanjaro (video game kill score) just took place. Home renovation may birth new walls, but in the process it probably kills old ones. Also, if the materials of the wall was recycled, wouldn't that mean the wall could potentially get reincarnated, or horribly disfigured? My mind is filled with too many horrifying existential questions. I liked the joke about the one wall needing paintings to cover its breasts. I was joking about that with a friend earlier today. Imagine a wall's windows being its eyes or its naughty bits. "Bro! Did you see Walleena's windows today?" "Nah Wallter, I only face the West, I don't get to see East." "Man, that suck Wallberg. Today the home owner pulled away Walleena's curtains, rolled up her blinds, and then wiped her down with some Windex." "Ah man, that sounds beautiful. Wished I could've seen the outside." "Yeah man, the rose bushes were in full bloom today, and so were the petunias!" Sad that the walls felt lonely. I sort of thought that they would've stayed together since they had each other to talk to. However, walls cannot stop rodents and pests from burrowing into them.
Great portrayal - I believe - especially older ones - that every house has a story to tell.
Really enjoyed the voice you gave to the house. Very well written!
Interesting story! I liked the way the walls spoke separately, and the humans could hear them!
it was really good, loved the chorus of voices
I love how much story, emotion, and depth is packed into this short tale! Stories like this are an inspiration to me because I tend to write very long stories. This shows me that a great story does not have to be long. You did a great job bringing everything to life here. The ending was sad, but fitting. 🥲
Love this vision, sad and lonely
Brilliant & beautiful story!!! Loving it💖💖💕
Cool approach to the challenge and nice detail encompassed in short phrasing.
Great and inventive take on the challenge
Feee..ver! Lol! I loved how the walls from different parts of the house had a different voice. This was a very creative take on the challenge! I loved it!
Ah, poor house!! Good job bringing it to life even though the ending was sad. Well done :)
Nicely done, Rick.
Great story. I really enjoyed reading it.
Your work is inspiring me to write.
The story can’t be left on the shelves. It was so captivating. Wonderful story , Very dramatic ending . 👌
Aww. So well done
Excellent! Rick! 🥰
I never thought of a house having feelings; it is an interesting concept, and you have characterized the emotions associated with isolation and despair so vividly. This is a very cleverly written story, Rick.
Well done, Iuv this story