Authors: Emily Goodwin
“Welcome home.” James fished the keys out of his handy briefcase and tossed them to me. I scrambled out of the limo.
“Oh. My. God.” My jaw dropped. A prodigious white, Queen Anne style house was in front of us. Its asymmetrical façade was both beautiful and creepy. The front steps lead directly to double doors with amazingly detailed stained glass windows with pictures of different types of flowers. The porch ran the entire length of the front of the house, even around a characteristic octagon gazebo. I slowly raised my gaze.
The second story had a large bay window that stuck out to the left of the front door. A long balcony ran its length up there too. Around the left corner of the house was an octagon tower, this one taller than any other part of the house, and at the top of the tower as a turret.
“Shall we?” James motioned towards the house. I nodded and headed up the pathway. I had a little trouble with the lock, but after a few attempts the door creaked open. I slowly stepped into a spacious foyer and slid my hand up and down the wall feeling for a light switch. The lights flickered a few times but finally came on and spilled an ancient golden glow on the shiny hard wood floors.
To my right was a dining room; there was still a fancy looking table and chairs set up. I looked to my left. I think it was the living room. Straight head was a narrow doorway that held back darkness the foyer light couldn’t reach. I wasn’t sure which direction to go first.
Something to my left caught my attention. My heels echoed throughout the empty house. I stopped a few inches in front of a large, half covered couch. I pulled the cover off. It made a
whoosh
and cloud of dust burst into the air. I coughed and waved my hand around to clear the air. A beautiful settee sat before me. I gently ran a finger over the dark mahogany scrolls that topped the sofa.
The light was dim in the living room but I could still see the very intricate carvings. The ivory velvet cushions were still soft and somewhat firm leaving me to think that this was not an authentic Victorian piece. Pushed up against a wall were two matching armchairs. There was more furniture covered and pushed up against the wall and blocking a fancy fireplace—a coffee table and end tables maybe—it was too dark to really tell. I searched the walls for a light switch but didn’t see one. It turned out that this room didn’t have an overhead light.
Another doorway led to somewhere else, but it was dark and I didn’t want to fumble around in an unfamiliar house. So, I went back into the foyer. James was still there. In fact, I don’t think he had even moved at all. I passed him and went into the dining room. A large table with eight matching chairs took up most of the room. Faded patterned green and gold wallpaper covered the walls in this room. A cast iron chandelier hung from the ceiling. The table was covered in a layer of dust so thick that I couldn’t resist writing my name in it. A typical sized doorway led to what I guessed would be the kitchen. I flicked on the dining room light and cautiously walked through the doorway into a narrow walkway. Shelves lined the walls on either side of me from floor to ceiling. I was a bit confused at first until I realized that this must be a panty. The floor creaked. It smelled old in here. Not bad, just old and stale.
The kitchen surprised me. Not only was it huge, it was completely modern. I remembered James saying that Aunt Estelle had the house ‘updated’. The counters looked like expensive granite and all the appliances were shinny and brand new. The lights were unnaturally bright. Even the floor seemed to have been redone, but carefully so because the dark tile matched the rest of the house.
To the right of the kitchen was a garage, and obvious addition. I wasn’t too interested, but I opened the door and peaked inside anyway. It looked like it could house 3 more cars; there was already an older, red Cadillac parked in the spot closest to the door. A utility room had also been added, with a brand new washer and dryer still had the stickers on them. Next to that was a breakfast nook. Another dark wooden table was covered in dust and pushed haphazardly in the corner. Four chairs were stacked on top of it.
I walked into a large family room next. A huge, cast iron fireplace was centered on the outside East wall. Typical with the Victorian style, this too was incredibly detailed with scrolls and swirls. Off of the family room was an octagon sunroom. Everything was so detailed; the molding around the windows and doors all boasted skilled carvings of the same scroll and swirls design as the fireplace and furniture. If I kept walking I would be back in the living room again. Instead I creaked my way up a rather narrow staircase, turning on the overhead light as I went.
I stood at the top of the stairs and looked around the hall. To my left were two doors, to my right were three, and straight in front and down a long hall was one more. Since I explored left first downstairs, I went to the right this time. Two of the doors revealed two empty bedrooms, both leading to the covered balcony in the front of the house. The third door opened to a modernized bathroom, complete with a fresh coat of light yellow paint.
I continued down the hall to the room above the garage; a spacious room with an attached bathroom. This room was painted light blue. A queen bed with a white quilt was centered between two windows against the wall opposite the door. A white dresser and matching vanity were the only other furniture in the room. A window seat offered a view of the front yard. The bathroom was covered in wall paper, a Victorian purple, floral pattern.
Back in the hall, I had two more doors to go through. One was for a linen closet, and the other led me to a huge master bedroom. This room also showed signs of having recent renovations; the master bathroom was beautifully redone in Victorian influenced styles. The large bathtub actually had the claw feet. The spout and handles were gold, though I didn’t know if it was real gold or not though. The sink was just as grand; hand painted pictures of mermaids circled around the porcelain base.
On the east wall was another door that lead outside. I opened it and stepped out only to see a stairway that lead to the turret. I’d investigate that during the day. The second story part of the octagon was also in the master bedroom, and through that I went up another flight of stairs to a very creepy attic. A skeleton key was in the lock. I cracked the door open to take a look inside. Boxes took up about half the space. The wind blew through the poorly insulated walls, making eerie howling sounds. I shut the door and turned the key, then rushed back down into the safety of the light in the bedroom.
I sank down on the bed; it was a fancy four poster with a fluffy red and gold comforter and a million pillows. The mattress was comfortable and the blankets looked new. Matching nightstands were on either side of the bed. One had a plain cast iron lamp with a white lampshade and the other had an ugly vase on it. Across from the bed was a tall dresser and mirror, which also matched the nightstands and the bed.
Something seemed odd. I learned from my mother that Aunt Estelle hadn’t lived here for at least the past ten years, as she was in a nursing home. Why would she have the bathrooms and kitchens redone? Maybe she was planning to sell. But then why were some rooms set up and others not?
James was sitting at the dusty dining room table. Someone had brought my bags in. Another set of keys lay on the table in front of him. He stood when I came into the room.
“I trust you like the house.”
“Oh, it’s beautiful,” I said honestly.
“Ok. Well then. Goodnight.” He grabbed his briefcase and hurried to the door. Confused, I started after him. He jumped back, again acting afraid of my touch. “I’m staying here?” I might have sounded just a little abashed.
“This is your house now.” James looked like he wanted to just get the hell out of here. He was gripping his briefcase so tight his knuckles were turning white.
“Ok,” was all I could say. His hand slipped off the door knob in his hurried attempt to leave. Once he finally got the door open he scuttled down the porch stairs and jumped into the limo, which peeled out of the driveway.
After a moment of stilled shock, I closed the door. I felt like crying. I was all alone in this creepy, old house. I had no idea what to do, where to sleep or even what to eat. With a faint flicker of hope I went into the kitchen and opened the fridge. My jaw actually dropped when I saw it was stocked full. I checked the dates; the food was fresh. I opened the other cabinets and found dishes, pots and pans. That made me want to check the rest of the house. I left the kitchen through the dining room.
Again in the foyer I realized that there was another hall I hadn’t yet been in. This went into the family room. On the right was a small bathroom and across from that was a door that went down into the basement. I shuttered from the blast of cold air that hit me. It smelled stale and a bit moldy. I quickly shut that door. That is one place I would definitely
not
be going on my own at night.
A thought went through my mind that freaked me out even more. I quickly grabbed a chair from the breakfast room and propped it up against the basement door. I ran around the house and checked the locks. Everything was locked as it should be and the exterior doors had been fitted with deadbolts. I turned on every light on the first level.
Not a very green thing to do, but I wanted to make this place as bright and cheerful as possible. I promised myself I’d turn them off when I went to bed to make myself feel better. I lugged my suitcases up the stairs and into the master bedroom. The linen closet in the bathroom had fluffy folded white towels. There were also several bars of soap and plenty of toilet paper. There was a huge walk in closest attached to the bathroom. I hadn’t opened that door yet. Inside was a big wooden box. I picked it up and sat on the bed to open it.
A pretty metal jewelry box was inside the ugly wooden box, and it was full of fancy looking necklaces, bracelets and rings. Huge gem stones adorned most of the pieces. I admired the beauty of the stones but most of this stuff was way too gaudy and ostentatious for my taste. I sighed as I dropped the jewelry back into the box, fished my phone out of my bag and went into the kitchen to find something to eat. Though it was late, I wanted to call someone. I dialed Marie’s number but it went to voice mail. I felt guilty for feeling relief because I really didn’t want to talk to her. I made a tuna sandwich and called Laney but she didn’t answer either.
I put my dishes in the dishwasher when I was done eating. I hoped I remembered to run it before I left. I went back upstairs, debating whether or not I should shower. It would really feel good to be clean but showering does make you very vulnerable, and images from
Psycho
flashed through my brain. Ok, I’ll just shower in the morning.
I quickly got ready for bed and climbed under the blankets. Normally I like the room to be pitch black when I sleep but tonight I left the bathroom light on and cracked the door. I lay completely still for half an hour. Creaks and pops came from all over the house. I told myself that I had locked all the doors but it didn’t help. I was still scared that someone was in the house. I wished more than anything that I had Hunter with me right now; I felt so lonely. I almost called Harrison just so I would have someone to talk to, but I didn’t want to annoy him or let him know I was alone. I could call Ethan. I know there’s that rule saying to wait three days after a date to call someone, but he had called me yesterday, hadn’t he?
***
“I can’t believe I’m telling you this!” I laughed. “But yes, I love wearing costumes. I have like five different ones just for the Renaissance Fair, which I go to at least once every summer, by the way.”
“You’re such a dork!” Ethan laughed too. It was three thirty in the morning. We’d been on the phone for hours.
“Oh my gosh, do not judge them ‘til you’ve gone! The Ren Fair is so fun!”
“No way I’d go to that!”
“Oh, you will. And you will wear a costume. And you will love it! Or else.”
“Or else what?”
“I don’t know…terrible things will happen.”
“Well we can’t have that so I guess that means I’ll have to go. You are not getting me into a costume though!”
“Come on, I think you’d look great as Robinhood. Green tights and all!” I rolled over and pulled the blankets tighter around me; it had gotten really cold. I wasn’t sure if the heater worked in the house. I was half afraid it would catch fire. To be safe, I didn’t mess with it.
We continued talking about the most random things for almost another hour. Ethan promised he’d talk to me until I felt safe or fell asleep- whichever came first. My eyes closed. I felt really tired now.
“What about Halloween? Do you wear a costume then?” I inquired.
“Not since I was, oh eight years old.”
“Psh, you don’t know what you’re missing out on,” I yawned. “I always dress up. In fact, I have an amazing costume this year.”