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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1681337-Welcome-Home
Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Horror/Scary · #1681337
A woman inherits the house of her great aunt and discovers more than she bargained for.
Oomph, Aaron huffed breathlessly as he slammed the final duct-taped box on the floor.

“Thank goodness this is the last one sis, because pretty soon you’re going to turn me into a working man.”

Amelia snorted as she elbowed her older brother in the ribs.

“Yeah, that’s going to happen the same day, you’ll get some poor woman to marry you.”

“Ohh, touché. I surrender,” he said laughing arms held up hopelessly, “Actually, I need to get going or else, Mr. Nuevo is going to freak, so I’ll see you later?”

“Okay, bye. Thanks for helping me clean out the attic. Who knew Aunt Hattie was such a pack rat?”

“Yeah, and who knew she liked you enough to leave you her house? Tell me if you find anything interesting,” he called back over his shoulder as he turned walked down the driveway to his car.

After he drove away, Amelia stood silent for a second. It was no secret their dear auntie was not a big fan of their family. Amelia had been both shocked the flattered when she had discovered that Hattie had left her old Victorian home to her in her final will. She had only visited a few times as a child but even then she had fallen in love with the small antiquated house. Still, it baffled her why out of all of the people in the world she had been specially selected. She definitely wasn’t her aunt’s number one person.

         Amelia inhaled the musty scent of the old building, and thought back to the last time she had been in the house.

*It had been at one of those awful family reunions that nobody ever really wants to go to, but feels obligated to attend so that everybody can “catch up with the relatives,” when in fact, you know that in truth all that is going to happen are forced formalities and the inevitable argument about something that happened years ago. At this one such event, Amelia and Aaron had been scrubbed until they were red, and starched up into their Sunday best. Amelia specifically remembered trying her best not to fidget in the itchy crinoline material of her puffy dress.

         After much whining and pleading, her parents had finally abandoned the idea of their kids remaining spotless and had allowed the children to take off their dress shoes and go off and play. Aaron and Amelia had taken advantage of the vast openness of Hattie’s house and explored every nook and cranny until they finally arrived at attic door. It was several feet above them, but being the determined explorers they were, that didn’t faze them. Grabbing a chair, they stood cautiously on their tiptoes trying to unlatch the hatch when suddenly….

         Crash!



         The children were startled by the sound of broken glass.

         In panic, they had jumped off the chair and proceeded to run---right into the shrunken in face of Hattie. With a scowl she glared at the children and in a thickly accented voice cursed as she picked up the fragments of a vase she had dropped while passing them.  Hands trembling she pointed at them with a bony finger, and shrieked.

         “Vat ees dees?!” she screamed shaking with rage as she began backing them into a corner.  “Zere ees to be no cheeldrun een dees howz!! Deed your parents noht teech you mannerz?! “

         With a trembling lip, Aaron had begun to explain that they were merely being curious, as Amelia hid behind him on the verge of tears.

         “Keerious?! Zat is no excuz for zee bad beehavior you cheeldrun have deesplayed. Leeve from my sight immediately before I do somezing zat I vill reegret!”

         She leaned in closer to them. Close enough that they could smell her breath reeking of alcohol and tobacco.

         “Beecuz trust me, I vill if I must. If you eeven set so much ahz a foht near thes rohm again, you vill regret it.”

         At this point her voice was down to a hoarse whisper, which in some ways to the children was more horrifying than her yelling at them.

         Nostrils flaring she gave them one last look before turning to get a broom to sweep up the glass. And as her back was turned to them, the children ran far far away to their concerned parents, crying and quivering until their mother finally coaxed the story out of them. Furious, their father had stomped off to talk to his aunt only to come back pale, silent, and shaken. Breathlessly, he whispered something to their mother, and without a word, they took the children by the hand and drove away as quickly as possible.

         “Daddy, what happened? We didn’t do anything wrong, did we? Aunt Hattie isn’t mad at us is she? ” Amelia had piped up timidly as they pulled away from the house.

         Taking a deep breath, Amelia’s mother had gently murmured something about how they must take into consideration their aunt’s old age and failing health before judging her harshly.

         “After all, your Aunt Hattie went through a lot when she was younger,” she continued, “She had a very difficult life.”

         “Difficult life my foot,” muttered their father. “That’s no excuse to be treating our children that way.”

         “Now, Justin….”their mother had begun.

         “No, Lydia,” he said cutting her off, “There’s something wrong with that woman. I don’t ever want to see our kids near her or that house ever again. “

         And with that the conversation ended.



         Months ago, when Amelia had received news of her great aunt’s death, and her intentions, she certainly had been a bit hesitant to accept ownership of the house. But in the past few years she had outgrown her dingy condo, and the house would certainly be a step up despite her father’s adamant disapproval she had decided to move in.

         “What did she tell you that day when we left?” she asked. “Explain it to me, and then maybe I’ll understand.”

         “Amelia,” he said pleading, “Please, there are some things that I can’t explain to you for your safety. If I could, I would, just trust me. Moving into that house would be bad news.”

         But Amelia had been stubborn and refused to listen. Who was her dad to be telling her that she could and couldn’t do? She wasn’t a child anymore. Plus she had a morbid curiosity that hoped to discover her aunt’s troubled past, who knew what secrets were contained in that house? She signed the papers the next day.

         Today, left alone in her new home, Amelia looked around and absorbed the sight of the infinite number of boxes that surrounded her. All of them were covered in a thick coat of dust had Hattie’s spidery cursive scribbled on the side.

         “Well,” she said half to herself and half to nobody in particular, “time for more unpacking. “

         The majority of the boxes were uninteresting: old calendars, paperwork, letters, gaudy jewelry, and faded photographs, all with frowning faces.

         “Gosh,” Amelia grumbled after she had gone through half the boxes, “it’s one thing to scare two poor kids shirtless about your priceless keep sakes, but you have to be a real witch to scare them away from a room just to protect your eighty years worth of junk.”

         Dutifully she continued to open the boxes, and sort through the stuff until she got to the next to last box. This box was packaged more carefully than the others, and was the only one absent of Hattie’s scrawl on the side. Slowly she opened it to reveal an otherwise beautiful serving tray painted a tacky, chipping ruby red. On top of the tray rested a small heart shaped piece of wood, almost like a pendant; simple, but yet beautiful.

         Gently she took out the tray, and stuffed the pendant into her pocket.

         “Interesting,” she muttered wiping some sweat off her forehead, “I’ll clean this up and it’ll look perfect in no time.”

         Later that night, Amelia sat in the kitchen, intently rubbing off the thick coat of paint off with paint stripper. 

         “Once I get this stupid color off, we’ll be in business, “she thought to herself.

         In a color reminiscent of blood, slowly the paint came off on to the rag. And gradually, the tray’s original design peeked through. Etched in the dark ebony were foreign looking symbols and letters. Amelia squinted. Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out the wooden heart.  And then, like a bolt of lightning, she realized what the tray really was.

         “Omigosh!” she shrieked in shock as the Ouija board stared back at her. Instinctively as though touching a hot stove, she dropped the board, sending it clattering to the ground, taking the heart with it. When it hit the ground, the heart slithered around the board like a snake, quickly enough that it was unearthly, but slowly enough for Amelia to read a message before everything went dark.

         “Hello Amelia, Hattie’s home.”



         

© Copyright 2010 Wilma Seke (confusedmuze at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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