I've walked by that old house hundreds of times in the past two years, but today was the first time I caught a little girl watching me from the window. I'd heard rumors before then. Rumors about the house and its mystical occupants. The rumors were scandalous. Some thought that the old house was haunted by a witch and others thought that a dead butcher's ghost lived in it. Alas, people had peculiar thoughts sometimes. I continue walking and after a while decide to look back. An audible gasp sends my jaw flying to the ground. The girl has vanished from the window where she was standing. The window frame, a dark brown shade of what looked to be pine wood, was now painted in a dark red liquid. The glass was also coated with the substance I had now assumed to be blood. Very, very slowly I turn around, and despite my current state of ongoing shock, I continue walking.
I usually walk home after work, but after this morning's traumatizing experience , I decided to take the bus. As we pass by the old house, I stop breathing. What I see is not something I can afford to thoroughly describe. And I know I am not the only one because everyone in the bus is looking out the window. Gasps erupt and voices echo. Panic rushes through my body. I can't believe what I'm seeing. The front door is open, the blood coated windows now all have something scribbled on them. Die, you will all die!! Everyone is paralyzed by the terror in those words. Someone or something is haunting that house and I don't know why but it seems to be after the whole town and for some incomprehensible reason, after me in particular. I know this because on the small flight of stairs that leads to the horrific gray house, my picture hangs. Bullet holes and blood are smeared all over it. Candles are carefully placed below. I stop looking. I can't bear to. My breathing stops. So does my brain. One, two, three seconds pass. I don't blink. My lungs have ceased to exist. I wonder if I'm dead because I just can't tell the difference. Every eye is on me. Every single one, scanning me. I look down. The bus comes to a halt. I stand up, forget to breathe and walk out of the bus, feeling terrorized by the weight of all the stares.
