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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1531705-The-Haunted-Farmhouse---The-Haunt-Ch4
by Lily
Rated: ASR · Chapter · Detective · #1531705
Marcie is being contacted by something or someone she cannot see.
The Haunt


As the sun sets on another day, the memories from the night before came rushing back to Marcie. The slow and steady back and forth motion of the porch swing gently lulled her into a trance-like sleep. Her body was completely relaxed, and her eyes were too heavy to keep opened. She was still very much alert and conscious of her surroundings. She could feel the cool, gentle breeze just lightly brushing up against her face. Just inside the house, her mom was discussing the "importance of school", with her brother.

"Marcie!"

Marcie quickly opened her eyes and sat up straight. She turned her head swiftly fr om side to side hoping to catch whoever called her name. When she didn't see anyone, Marcie got up and quickly walked over to the front door.

"Did someone call me? "Marcie asked leaning up against the screen.

"No, I don't think so, honey!" Her mom responded.

"Oh, ok. Just thought I heard someone call my name." Marcie said with a bewildered expression on her face.

Marcie turned around and stared at the sky as the last light of day was erased by the onset of night. She started to decend the front porch steps. As she reached the bottom step, Marcie heard the voice again only this time it was more distinct. It sounded like an older man's voice.

"Who's out there? Who are you? Come out where I can see you!" Marcie whispered into the night air.

As she listened closely, she gazed out into the darkness for any signs of movement. There was n othing to indicate that there was anyone in the immediate area.

Marcie stayed outside a few minutes more to see if "the voice" would say anything else, but nothing else happened. She decided it was getting late, and she was suddenly very tired. As Marcie headed into the house, she didn't notice the tall, dark shadow looming behind the pine tree that stood at the edge of the driveway near the road.

___________________________________________________

The floor of the farmhouse was cold and hard on Marcie's bare feet. The air was stale and the smell of rotting wood filled her nose as she stood at the bottom of the stairs. The first step made a terrible creaking sound that echoed through the hallway. Muffled sounds of people arguing could be heard in one of the upstairs bedrooms as Marcie became to climb the steps. The words were inaudible, but she thought she could make out the voices of at least a man and a woman.

Once she reached the top landing, Marcie cautiously began to walk down the hallway towards the voices. They seemed to be coming from the room up the hallway, at the front of the house. As she drew closer to the room, she noticed a dim light illuminating from under the door. She quietly approached the door and put her ear up against it hoping to catch a word or two. After listening for a few minutes, the only words she could clearly make out were: "wall", "inheritance", and "daughter".

"Daughter?" Marcie thought to herself as she moved away from the door. "What did they mean by that?"

Suddenly, there was a loud noise which sent Marcie reeling backwards. It sounded like a gun shot. Marcie jumped to her feet just as a shrill scream emminated from the room. She quickly ran towards the door, and without hesitation opened it. Marcie started to enter the room, but after the horrifying scene inside she wished that she had not gone in.

Standing directly in front of her was a tall, thin man with a stocking over his head. Luckily his back was towards me so he had no idea I was there. He had a shot gun pointed at a woman that was crouched down against the wall. Sprawled out on the floor, in a large puddle of blood, was an elderly man.

Marcie suddenly had a revelation. She was watching how Mr. and Mrs. MIller were killed some 20 or so years ago. As she slowly backed up towards the door, Marcie noticed that the woman had lifted her head and was looking directly at her.

"It's you!" Mrs. Miller said with a look of amazement on her face.

The tall, thin man quickly turned around to see who the woman was talking too. He seemed startled, but drew up his gun and pointed it directly at Marcie's head.

"No!!"


____________________________________________________

Marcie bolted straight up in bed, her breathing was heavy and labored as if she just finished running a marathon. She was sweating profusely and shaking uncontrollably. She grabbed her blanket from the foot of the bed, and wrapped herself in it.

Running her long, thin fingers through her hair, she cautiously scanned her surroundings. She was in her own bedroom, and realized it was just another dream. This one was so much more vivid and clear. She still had the smell of rotting wood in her nose.

Marcie laid back in her bed and tried to get comfortable. Thoughts of the past few years started flooding back in her head as she remembered the first dream she ever had. It was four years ago on a dark, blistery night. The tree branches were banging heavily against the house as the wind seemed to grow in intensity after each pass. Marcie was having trouble sleeping with all the creaking and banging and howling through the windows. Finally, around two a.m., she fell into a restless sleep.

The dream started out with Mrs. Olsen running frantically around the neighborhood yelling, "Snowball! Snowball!" Mrs. Olsen lived across the street from Marcie and was at least sixty-five years old. Snowball was her persian cat. She never had any children, and her husband died of a heart attact about three years ago. Snowball was the only companion that she had left.

In the dream, Marcie found herself in Mrs. Olsen's backyard. Her yard was very long and narrow. It started out leval and gradually sloped down into a small ravine. Marcie directed her attention towards the bottom of the hill. She could faintly make out the cries of an animal. Heading down the small hill, Marcie seemed drawn to a small clump of bushes over to the right. The cried seemed to grow louder and more urgent as she drew closer to the bushes. Crouched down on her knees she began to push aside the prickly branches. Caught up inside was Snowball!

The next day, Marcie went over to her neighbor's house to see if she had located her cat. She regretfully shook her head as tears began to well up in her eyes.

"Come with me, Mrs. Olsen. I think I might know where Snowball is!" Marcie confessed as she took her hand and led her into the backyard. Once they reached the bushes, Marcie carefully retrieved the fluffy furr ball, and gently handed her over to her owner.

Of course she was too overwhelmed to have her companion back with her that she never thought to ask Marcie how she knew where to find her cat. She just wrapped her arms around the feline and headed back up to the house.

Since then, the dreams were dealing with lost items such as jewelry, and animals. Up until now, anyway. Marcie closed her eyes as she tried to understand why all of this was happening and why. Unfortunatly, she didn't get very far because within minutes she was fast asleep.
© Copyright 2009 Lily (foxylady3284 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1531705-The-Haunted-Farmhouse---The-Haunt-Ch4