A short story that I wrote for a creative writing course a while back.
| For the tenth time in 30 minutes, I look up and thank my lucky stars that I am leaving this house before the sun goes down. For the last five months, my sunny, two-story corner house with green trim has been a nightmare. Every night, reoccurring nightmares wake me to find that I am so covered in sweat that it looks like water was poured on me. Things have even been moving on their own within an hour of when I put them down and have even ended up in the trash outside at times. The people of the town stand outside and gawk at the beauty of the house, whispering to each other about the crazy man that lives inside. I can understand why they think I have lost my mind. From the outside, the house looks so bright and cheerful that one would never suspect anything bad to ever happen here. Inside is an entirely different story, though.
There is an ominous presence that can be felt the moment you step over the threshold. It gives an overwhelming desire to leave. All the joy in your body is sucked out, leaving you no reason to feel happy no matter what news you get. This presence has driven away many of my girlfriends, made my dog whine and scratch at the door to be allowed to leave, and has even driven me to the point of digging up the history on the house and the land it sits on.
Once a cemetery and part of the flourishing Mayan metropolis, the green left when the Mayans disappeared. The land turned to sandy dust with tumbleweeds often being seen rolling through the desolate wasteland. The trees died and were taken back into the Earth, covered by the sands of time. Centuries later, during the time of modern man, the house was built. As far as my research suggests, the house has been abandoned numerous times due to various reasons, but the most recent is also the most disturbing to me and is the only one with a recorded reason for abandonment. The previous owner had died in her sleep and the coroner had claimed that it was due to cardiac arrest, yet her family had no medical history of heart issues so no one was able to figure it out and labeled it as a “freak accident.”
Knowing that I have awoken on a nightly basis with an excessive amount of adrenaline rushing through my own veins, I believe it to be the presence in the house that caused her death. This knowledge tells me that thee presence will soon cause mine unless I leave as well. I hope that the presence in the house will let me leave unscathed.
Right on time, I think as I see my ride pull up in front of my house. I grab my bags and reach for the door, feeling eyes on my back as I open it. They almost seem to be pleading for me to stay. For a brief moment I hesitate and look back, but that is all it takes. The ominous presence hits me hard and my heart starts racing. It is pounding so hard that I think it might explode. I try to slow my breathing, hoping that will slow my heartbeat, but to no avail. Suddenly, my heart stops racing. I see the sky as the setting sun colors it with various shades of red, orange, blue, and yellow. It is the most beautiful sight I have ever seen. And as I fall to the ground spewing bile from my mouth, I think of how happy I am to have been able to see one last sunset before my death.