Harris Estate: some secrets can't be buried...

Harris Estate Chapter 1

Harris Estate: some secrets can't be buried...

By Stacey Cotter

Chapter 1

"Can I go in there?" a woman whispered to herself as she stood before an ominous, rusty gate. All that separated her from the answer to her question was a weather-beaten fence that divided her from the forsaken house looming in the distance.

The young woman, Leah was a thin, beautiful girl with brown hair cut into a short, textured bob. She had just stepped out of a rental compact sedan. Zipping up the car keys in the side pocket of her backpack, she peered around the property and the surrounding area. The driveway consisted of a long dirt road with overgrown weeds and branches littered about. A vast expanse of field corralled in by an old fractured fence held within its confines large, old willow trees that grew freely around the property. In the distance, between the house and barn, stood a particularly large oak tree that stood with branches that soared upward toward the sky. It was a picturesque scene surrounding the decaying structure.

Leah swallowed hard, tucked her short brown hair behind her ears, and reached out to push the gate open. A loud creak escaped from the hinges, but it allowed her through. Gently, she reached back to close the gate behind her as she worried it might just break. An old cement trail that led to the house was covered with weeds and branches from trees that enclosed the yard. As she walked along, she could hear the wind passing through the limbs above and popping sounds below her feet from breaking twigs. Standing a few feet from the base of the stairs, her large hazel eyes continued to gaze at the object of her anxiety—the Harris family home.

"Wow," she whispered below her breath.

Her eyes wandered over the large roofline that sagged deeply in the middle and the shattered front windows that resembled black holes. The home may have been white at one time, but now it was splintered wood, decomposing frames, and had become a victim to the elements. The weather in this part of Texas could be quite fickle with extreme heat, periods of thick humidity, wind gusts with downpours, and even the occasional freeze.

Knowing that there was nobody for miles, she opened up her backpack and pulled out her phone. She had a signal, it was low, very low, but she had a signal nonetheless. Tucking the phone in her pocket, she turned back to face the old ranch-style house.

She stepped up the front stairs, which creaked and moaned with every move. She grimaced and wondered if she might just go through the floor, but it held. The front door stood right before her now. It was an oversized wood door with large black metal hinges. Time and weather had taken its toll, but it was still standing. It was ajar about an inch, but didn't offer a view. She walked to the sides of the front porch and tried to peek in the front windows, but they didn't share anything either. Returning to the front door, she lightly pushed against it with her navy-blue tennis shoe. It didn't budge, but it did respond with a small sound of splintering wood. She squinted through the open area of the door again and could make out the presence of a dark front room. She took a deep breath and pushed as hard as she could using the left side of her body. The door gave way quickly, taking her with it and crashing into the wall behind. She froze and stayed completely still for several seconds. She looked around with wild eyes and was thankful nobody or nothing was coming after her.

"Just breathe, just breathe, just breathe," she repeated to herself in a chant.

Her short brown hair had tangled up in the splintery wood of the door, and she had to pull her head free from it. She chuckled to herself realizing she was only scaring herself. This thought amused her.

She stood up tall and dusted herself off seeing that her favorite Ann Taylor shirt and cropped skinny jeans that she wore would probably need some intense Spray 'n Wash after this. Her eyes had now adjusted to the darker room, and she had calmed herself. Nervously tucking her hair behind her ears again and rubbing her hands on her thighs, she readied herself to enter.