Haunted House by the Freeway

I.

That house!

The one by the freeway.

 Despite my attempts

to look away,

it reels me in

with its haunted  past.

II.

Small, cramped,

and colored a faded red.

Bone white rocks

for a lawn,

coupled with dead plastic plants.

Caked dust on windows

keeps the light from

entering this place.

III.

So many years,

and it still haunts

my memories.

 I look away

pretending it’s not there

The little red house

where that damn ogre

of a lady once dwelled.

IV.

 Memories of her!

I cringe,

clinch my fist

and hold back those memories

of a meaty and thrashing my face!

 Or that couch,

tarnished and stained,

where I was forced

to stay

  all day

 with a broken toy

until,

mom and dad

fetched me from

that ogre’s realm.

Only to return me

the next day. 

V.

Those memories.

They don’t die so easily.

Sometime I see that house.

Most times I shun my eyes

 even after

all these years

with that damn ogre,

 dead and gone.

 I don’t fear

if it’s haunted

 by her fat and boorish soul.

But that place haunts me.

 And that I can’t escape

no matter how far I run away

or cover my eyes.

VI.

I see her ghost

still reeling in that little red house

waiting for the next kid like me,

to fall prey

 to her abusive ways.