Memory House

Basement

I stumbled out of the bathroom, slammed the door, and sank down the wall. I couldn't, I wouldn't remember. That man... was in my home. He lives in my memory. He had the control here. I never did.

As with all things I tried, my memories had controlled me. I couldn't sort them neatly. I couldn't ever fully forget. He would always live on in the recesses of my mind.

I didn't want to go downstairs. Least of all with him. Alone. Powerless. But I had to. There had to be a way I could control him. To keep him down there so I could live in my memories, happily, upstairs. I had to at least try to keep my control. If I left the house like this, I would never return.

I walked, slowly down the hall to the kitchen. The little girl was gone.

The basement door gaped open, like a hole. Only fear lived there. Well... fear, and him.

One step. Two step. Three.

It was dark and damp. I couldn't find a switch. I felt a immense, heavy fear in my chest.

I finally found a cord and pulled, hard.

The room was big. Only a yellow light from a tired bulb lit the room. Something scuttled on the floor. A mouse? A bug?

I heard breathing.