One

I didn’t want to move.  I liked where I was before we got to this new house.  My parents wanted to buy a place, so they found this one.  I missed my friends and school.  I was tired of moving.   It seemed we had done this every year of my life.  Mom and Dad told me that I would make new friends and that we would be happy here.  I wasn’t so sure. 

The house was really tall from the outside.  It had been painted white, no fancy trim, just white.  It had bushes next to the fence in the front yard and a pine tree, making the small patch of grass a bit barer from the needles that had dropped on it.  I looked up at the windows on the upper floor, it seemed as though someone was watching me through them, but I couldn’t see anyone.

The porch was enclosed with lots of windows covered by green and red striped curtains and had a funny mailbox that the mailman would put the mail in on the outside, but it fell into the box on the porch that had a tiny door and a tiny handle and a tiny lock with a key that fit.

The blue painted floor of the porch creaked as we walked across it and the porch door slammed shut hard from the spring.  The front door of the house had a beautifully gold etched oval window and an antique lock and knob.  The key, the realtor said, was a skeleton key, a handful of them were on the ring she handed my father as we entered our new home.

The tiny foyer had three doors. Little room for more than a person or two, the realtor pulled the one on the left open to show the coat closet, the one in front of the main entrance door to show a bedroom, and the one on the right led us into the living room.  It had lovely paisley wallpaper set in a tan on beige color and a golden chandelier that had light bulbs in the shapes of candle flames.  As children, my siblings and I were quite impressed with that.  The large windows let little light in with the heavy drapery covering them.  An large arch led us to a formal dining room which had a door way to the kitchen and two doors on an alternate wall opposite the large bay style windows.  The nearest door went into the first bedroom, the second into an additional room, which also had a door to the bathroom.  The one drawback the realtor pointed out was the location of the bathroom; it was a throughway to the stairs leading to the second floor.  The house had been built before bathrooms so it had been an added on room when they came into fashion.  It had three doors, one that connected from the kitchen, one that connected the second bedroom, and one to the stairwell.  We went up the stairs.  They were decorated with a red rug that exposed the hardwood on either side, held in place with brass bars against each step.  At the top of the stairs was a window on the left that oversees the yard, and alleyway behind it.  We could see the yards and houses of the neighbourhood from the vantage point of view.  What made us squeal was the sight of a pond with a little bridge across it in our backyard.

There was a door directly across the top stair, but we walked passed that and turned down into a long hall.  It had a tiny funny little door on the floor of the vaulted attic style ceiling.  We were told it was a crawl space.  It was opened and shown to us, but too dark for us to want to venture in.  The realtor said a crawl space was generally used for storage.  She led us to the two bedrooms, one being enormous, and the other smaller.  The small room had Holly Hobbie wallpaper, which mom thought would be perfect for me since I had the matching bedding.  I liked the idea, getting my own room for once.  The crawl space had a door in my room too, small and strange looking to me.  When I looked out the double windows, I realized that this was the room that I thought I saw someone watching me.  I looked in the closet and felt a chill go down my spine. There was nothing there but an eerie feeling and enough dust to make me sneeze.

The first night we spent in the new house was like most in unfamiliar places, little sleep due to the new creaks and groans that all houses make.  I jumped at the different sounds of the night creatures outside.  When I finally fell asleep, I dreamed of our new house.

There was a lady with dark auburn hair coiled back to a swept up style of old standing behind our front door.  She had emerald green eyes that shone so bright I thought they could have glowed in the night.  She had a sharp jaw that was set in a stern frown. 

“Get in the house!” she snapped at me.  I hesitated, unsure of whether I should listen to her.  Then a girl with long, blond pig-tails walked through me and rushed in past the lady in the door way.  The girl turned back to look at me as she passed through the doorway.  The look on her face was so sad and helpless.  I felt sorry for her instantly.  She seemed to be calling out to me with her eyes for help.  I went to follow and my mom was waking me up.