Recluse

Chapter 7

I wait at the cemetary for the rest of the day, but Niall never comes back, not even to retrieve his beloved guitar, which I know is very special to him.

So around 7:30, I pick up the guitar and begin walking towards the woods.

Even at this late hour, the woods are brimming with life. The trees sway slightly in the cool breeze while insects hum softly. A few stray bird chirps are heard here and there and I let out a blissful sigh. I see why Niall lives out here. It's relaxing and peaceful.

Or so I think. The further I travel into the forest, the scarier it gets. Now, all around me are dead trees and slowly the sounds of wildlife have faded into the distance. Panic begins to set in at the terrifying atmosphere. I have no idea where Niall's house is and I also have no idea how to get back to the cemetary. i've taken too many twists and turns to remember...

Well shit, I didn't think this through.

I glance at my phone. It's 9:30, and I have no idea where I am.

Right when I'm about to give up this hopeless attempt at finding a house when there appears not to be one, I see it.

I probably wouldn't have noticed it if not for the moonlight bouncing off of one of the shards of a broken window and bouncing back at me. I run towards the sparkling shard of glass, and that's when the entire house comes into view.

It looks like something out of a horror movie. it's a small one story house made out of rotting wood. There are only two windows that I can see and they're both broken and dirty. There's no door to enter the place, only a gaping hole in the shape of one.

I swallow my anxiety and fast walk into the gaping doorway before I chicken out.

The inside of the house is just as eerie as the outside. The moonlight is the only light illuminating the old fashioned living room before me. The couch looks as if it's from the 1940's or something. A love seat with dozens of tears in the cushion sits lazily to the left and a dark wooden coffee table lies in the middle, wood green in some places. The walls are covered in moss and other living organisms that have obtained the rotting wooden planks as their territory. A book shelf sits at the far wall, and I take a few steps closer to inspect it. I don't recgonize most of the books, for they are either too worn out to make out the title, or the titles are so old I don't recognize them. But there's one I recognize by the name of the Great Gatsby and it sends a crack throughout my heart that Niall owns this tragicaly beautiful book.

I place the guitar carefully next to the couch. I then take cautious steps through the room, into another one. The wooden floors beneath me creak with each step I take, almost as if they just barely hold my weight.

I find myself in a room that resembles a kitchen. The floor is made out of more ancient wood and so are the walls. Old cupboards lay on the walls and I slide all of them open. Each one is empty, except one of them holds a bottle of tequila and red solo cups. There's no refridgerator, but I spy a cooler on the ground and ease it open. Inside are literally ice, bananas, beer, and cans of Dr Pepper. My stomach churns. How can any human being live like this?

I continue to make my way throughout the house, peeking my head into another small room which I quickly realize is a bathroom. My nose crinkles in disgust. Black mold sits at the bottum of a bathtub, and in between the wooden floorboards. There's a dusty mirror on the wall and a dirty bowl of water with a bar of soap next to it, which is most likely used as a sink. A tooth brush and tube of Crest toothpaste sit next to the "sink", and they both look extremely out of place in a run down home like this one. I guess I now see why Niall always has suck perfect teeth. The thing that confuses me the most is why this bathroom doesn't have a toilet in it.