It's Probably Haunted

Chapter 7

We packed the next day, leaving most of belongings where they sat. I persuaded Calvin that we didn't need to bring any furniture, lamps, or much else other than things like clothes and cleaning products. He argued at first, obviously not wanting to give up the couch he had grown so accustomed to, but gave in realizing he could never logically drag the couch behind his little car.

After smashing five or six bags worth of assorted junk we had piled together into the car, we set off for the house. Calvin drove and I gave directions. Even though I had never been there, I knew exactly where we had to go. Exactly where I needed to be.

We drove out of the city and continued driving for another hour into the country. Fields of wheat, corn, and cattle soon to be slaughtered drifted by at breakneck speeds as Calvin revved his tiny engine to its maximum potential. This may sound dangerous but that's just how Calvin always got around. His driving pace drastically different than his day to day apathy would suggest. We cruised on for a while longer, never veering from the road we had started on out of the city, until we at last came to a half mile long dirt driveway covered by low hanging trees.

There was a pounding sensation in my chest that I attributed to my heart racing in excitement. Looking back now, I may be inclined to say that it was something altogether more malicious pulling at my heartstrings that day. Something clever enough to pull on just the right ones. The strings attached to feelings of love and tenderness. The puller being gentle enough not to tug on anything related to fear or giving credit to any sort of warning or fight or flight response. Had I felt any of those things, I can't say for sure that things wouldn't have ended the way they have. Maybe this was all set in stone to begin with. Maybe this is what people mean when they mention fate.

I remember looking up at that old house for the first time. Staring out at it through a void of misinformation and illogical circumstances that had led me to the steps of this run down old farmhouse. I had flashbacks of my dream and the perfect, tidy house I had envisioned. I thought of the details that had seemingly appeared in my memory from an unknown source, wiping away bits of common sense as it flushed its way into the blood circling my brain. These thoughts vanished as Calvin slammed his car door and walked up beside me. He asked if I had known the house looked like an overgrown shit box and walked past me up the stairs and opened the front door.

A pungent odor hit me instantly and must have been hard on Calvin as he turned around, his knees buckling, and vomited across the paint chipped porch. I watched the bile drip down the first step and hesitantly made my way around the muck. The odor grew as I forced my feet over the threshold, clamping my hand over my nose, and took my first look into the large house.

There seemed to be no light coming from inside. I don't mean that there were no lamps or overhead lighting or anything like that. I mean that there was no light at all. We were there around noon on a bright, sunny, bird chirping, kids playing outside kind of day and inside that house was nothing but pitch black darkness. The windows seemed impermeable to light from the outside and resulted in an eerie black that refused to subside. I felt around blindly, working my way over to one of the windows in an attempt to get one of them to open and expel the smell that was keeping Calvin outside.

After a few more minutes of fumbling, I felt my hand grace over something plastic and thin. Running my hand along it to find the edges, my brain made the connection, telling me that my hand was touching a sheet of plastic covering that was distancing the house from all natural light. I gripped it tightly in my hand and ripped it free from the window.

The room was engulfed in light and rays of dust drifted into every corner. I shielded my eyes from the unexpected burst of illumination burning into my face. Not realizing that I had unconsciously removed my hand from my nose, the rank stench curled back in; so strong that it caused my eyes to water. Not daring to breathe again, I pushed upwards on the window frame but it wouldn't budge. I tried again, feeling the lack of oxygen intensify with each push, and came up with the same result. Through blurry eyes, I scanned the window for whatever was holding it so firmly in place. There was no lock on the top, nor the bottom, and I had almost given up when I noticed two nails protruding slightly from each corner of the base. They looked like they had been painted along with the windows, giving me the impression that no one had opened it for quite some time. Not able to stand the strain on my lungs any longer, I stumbled back outside right into the still spreading swell of Calvin's breakfast.

Calvin was still bent on one knee, shuddering and wiping his mouth on his wrist. He looked up at me and watched as I grasped for the railing and sucked in air as if for the first time. I told him about the windows being nailed shut and covered in black plastic. He gaped at me awkwardly, small amounts of vomit still dribbling down his cheek, then slowly stood up, pulled the car keys from his pocket, and walked back to his car. He opened the driver's seat, sat down, slammed the door shut, and leaned back. I looked at him for a moment, then back at the house, before walking over to his car.

His eyes were closed and he didn't bother opening them when I knocked on the window. I opened the door and asked him what he was doing. He let me know that he wasn't about to step foot in that shit box again and that he was going to sleep in his car until I came to my senses and decided to go back to our apartment since we still technically lived there and hadn't told our landlord that we were moving. I thought he was just upset and grieving the loss of his beloved couch, so I decided to agree and got in the car. As we were pulling down the driveway, away from the house, I looked back and noticed the front door was still open and told Calvin we should go back and close it. His engine revved and we sped down the driveway, spitting gravel and swirling dust in our wake.