by Melissa R. Bickel

Created on: July 10, 2009   Last Updated: October 06, 2009

The House on the Edge of Town

Spider webs draped the rooms like lace curtains. If one breathed too heavily or coughed too loudly it would stir up ghost from the past. That's what Karen believed anyway. Why had she allowed herself to be dared? She wasn't some childed who needed to prove how brave she was, even though at this particular moment, she wasn't so brave. Feeling a tickle at the back of her throat, Karen wanted to cough. Swallowing instead (what spit she could muster up) she washed the cough away.

Looking around, Karen tried to imagine what sort of people had once lived in this house. The rooms had been lived in, evidence of their inhabitance was evident throughout each room she'd went into. Tattered paisley curtains hung from broken curtain rods. A yellowed chair held up a sagging wall in the front-room. Various bits of paper were tossed about in what seemed like... haste.

Something was different about this room Karen had just stepped into. It held a certain presence, like it wasn't vacant even though no visual proof of life was evident. Well, if you didn't include the very evident spiders clinging to their webs.

"Oh boy", Karen whispered as a breeze lifted the back of her hair. Funny thing about breezes, there needed to be air to stir one, and in this room there was no air blowing. The stifling heat and smell of age gave way to that very fact. There'd been no air circulating in this room for some time.

"Steady girl, no panicking". Karen decided this would be her mantra while she was here. No running out of the house screaming like a little child. How would she live it down if she'd ran out without looking for what she'd came for in the first place. Remembering to breathe, Karen took in another mouth full of dust particles. This time she couldn't prevent the cough from escaping. Thank goodness nothing stirred, not even a ghost.

Karen knew this was the room she wanted. How? That was a question best left unanswered.

Out of the corner of her eye, Karen caught a glimpse of the floor which seemed out of place. The dust wasn't covering it like the rest of the floor, too "Its boards were bowed and creaking". The sound was more like that of a settling foundation than a creak.

Turning to get a better look at the board, Karen was suddenly seized by an overwhelming need to runaway. Laughing, she chided herself for being silly. Taking small steps, she made her way over to part of the floor. Her breathing became labored as her heart started pounding faster.

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