Second installment to the House.

Lorraine Ferns By Lorraine Ferns, 15th Apr 2015 | Follow this author | RSS Feed | Short URL http://nut.bz/15tfc_jv/
Posted in Wikinut>Writing>Short Stories

This is another part to a story I began called the House.

The House (continued)

I posted the first part of this story here: The House

This is the next part to the story - hopefully I will try to keep writing it.

We were so on edge that evening that we did not stop to camp, but quietly stealthily passed through the woods until we came to our village. We had barely said a word to each other, there was only the odd whistle from old Stephan if he felt there was any impeding danger, but we traveled safely enough on. I was exhausted when I arrived at my home and when I stepped through the door it was barely dawn. My mother being a light sleeper got up immediately. She stood in the doorway and stared at me, before she asked
“How come you were traveling at this time. Joseph didn't stop you all for the evening.” I just stared at her. I was so tired, and still in shock. She stepped closer, looking at me intently.
“What happened? You’re so pale!” she said harshly. “Wait till I speak to him!”
“No mother...” I slumped into the old rocking chair. “No...it wasn’t his fault” I told her about what had happened. She clucked her tongue.
“Why did he stop there? He knows well not to pass by that old place”
“We had no other choice, because of the flooding; many of the trees have blocked the other pass. We had to come that way, and not everyone believes the stories”
“Well go now to yer bed.”
I wearily stood up, my body ached and I fell into my bed still with my clothes on. I did not sleep well - vivid dreams of horrifying sounds and dark shadows in windows kept me in a cycle of waking, and then falling back to sleep. When I did finally come too, I heard birds chirping outside, and the sun streamed in my window. I was still dressed in my clothes from the night before but my blankets now covered me. Rosalie, my younger sister, came into my room carrying a tray with some hot soup.
“Wake up sleepy head!” I had barely sat up when she plonked the tray on my lap and stared at me.
“Did you really hear something coming from the old house?” I just ignored her and started eating. It was so good. “Anyway” she continued “everyone is talking about it.” I just continued eating and glared at her, like I always did when she irked me. She stomped out of the room sullenly.

Tags

Creative, Horror, House, Short Story, Writing

Meet the author

author avatar Lorraine Ferns
I love to write - I go through stages of expression - sometimes I concentrate on poetry and then other times I attempt short stories.

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