The Haunting

The Haunting

Many said this house was one to be afraid of,
but for me this was nothing but a triviality.
For I did not believe in any type of superstition,
and before long I became a believer.

The house was decrepit, and had shutters bent off the side.
With a thick air, and a dense fog making it very mysterious.
Surrounded with oak tree’s, housing many black crows,
This house I was staying in had survived many blows.

Walking up to the building I thought I saw a person,
Staring at me through the windows, with a smile on its face.
There were no eyes, and it was outlined in white
But vanished as if not there giving me a very quick fright.

Opening the door, I walked into a wall of cobwebs.
Causing me panic for a moment, I re-collected myself.
The air in the room was musty, a smell very unpleasant,
Closing the door behind me I was disgusted by this development.

My fear for spiders was of more concern, than the presence
That I had felt since I entered the room.
Murderous intentions could be felt from the top of the stairs
Giving me the sensation that the room was full of invisible glares.

The floor boards were infested by termites and insects alike,
And the paint covering the walls was peeling down the wall line.
As the wind from the outside made a whistling against the windows,
There were no live flowers in the house only wilted primrose.

Each step in the house made an unbearable creaking,
That displaced my thoughts of any superstition.
Coldness swept the room as day turned to night,
I found myself without sleep and putting up a fight.

Weariness swept over my body leaving me very unbearable,
To the sudden sensation I had felt touching my very shoulder.
I turned around and saw nothing to connect me to that feeling,
But the laughter of a child and a very scary screaming.

Startled, and deaf by the noise so close to my ear
I ran away from my spot, and scurried down the hallway.
Pitch dark as it was, I walked on as slowly as possible
Keeping sight of where I was, and staying very watchful.
Going through my pockets I pulled out a lighter
Lighting up the hallway I was confronted by disaster.
The silhouette of a woman drenched in red
With eyes darker than black, leaving me speechless and frozen in her stead.

Pulling out a knife, and turning her head a full 360 degrees
I retreated from the hallway, and ran back toward the stairs.
As quickly as possible going up I made sure not to look back,
And be caught by that woman who was ready to attack.

There was a door at the very top of the stairs off to the right
That I had tried to open, and was upsettingly locked.
Rushing to the next I opened it, locking myself inside,
Leaving myself scared and completely horrified.

The woman had passed my door, for the sound had kept down the hallway
As I tried to find a way out without letting myself be noticed.
Taking my back from the door, and looking into the room,
It was suddenly filled with the aroma of a very sweet perfume.

Nauseated by the smell, My eyes were beginning to water
and out the corner of my eye there was a child standing in the corner.
Fearing what was to come I slowly opened the door,
And the child began to scream running at me across the floor.

No moment to lose I made my way out the door,
Just to find myself confronting the woman who smiled at my torture.
Down the stairs and out the door I shouted in the middle of the night,
For this house welcomed all who entered with very little delight.

Down the road and to my car I quickly went on my way
To a house filled with light to tell the story of this night I had to partake.
A man such as myself who was such a non-believer
Became a man consumed with horror when in the dark, to show
The world that ghosts are real and don’t always disembark.