Deserted Mansion

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Mystery and Crime  |  House: Booksie Classic
Another Random piece I wrote

Submitted: November 09, 2013

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Submitted: November 09, 2013

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The Mansion on Maple Street had always piqued the interest of many of my classmates and though many said they would go inside now where ever brave enough to actually enter. The mansion itself has been abandoned for several years and has fallen into a major state of disrepair.

In previous years when there had been owners I remembered the neatly cut lawn but now as I sat looking up at the house the grass is in some places almost to my knees and most has dried up and is brown. Leaves have been blown across the lawn as well and it has been years since anyone has come and cleaned even those up. The gardens were full of dead brown plants that had once given color and elegance to this house and everyone used to stop to admire them. The only thing that still looked to be alive in this mess was the large oak tree near the right corner of the house, though it was missing most of it leaves.

I trended carefully to the back of the house where I remember spending several days during summers past with the young girl who had lived here with her parents. The blue swing set we had spent hours sitting on and telling stories was now rusted beyond comprehension. Several swings where crack and broken in two while in some spots there wasn’t a swing at all, no sign that there had even been on at all. The attached slide was covered in a layer of debris and a slimy substance, probably from all the rotting leaves.

I walked back around toward the front, deciding that I couldn’t put this off anymore. I looked up at the house itself and sighed. The house was once as beautiful as the lawn had been, well cared for and maintained. Now many shingles were falling from the roof and debris piles were gathering from where they shattered upon impact. I took note of several boarded up windows that school children had broken not long after the family had moved up but there were several that no one had even tried to board up. The surviving windows were caked in such a thick layer of dust that I couldn’t see into them.

The front door was somehow still standing but the black paint was falling off in large flakes and someone had kicked several large holes in the lower portion of the door. A crash near me startled me as I moved toward the front door. I looked to see a brick had fallen off the roof. I glanced up to see that the chimney had begun to crumble from years of disrepair. I climbed up onto the small stoop and slowly opened the door, finding the lock rendered broken. I opened the door and in the light that poured in I saw a thick layer of dust covering everything but a few footprints, made only just recently.

I pulled out my flashlight from my purse and clicked it on, moving into the house, closing the door behind me. I tracked the beam across the room and saw most of the furniture had a sheet tossed over it to protect it from the dust, same in the living room. I walked with care, for the floorboards creaked and who knew if any had rotted through. I walked toward the grand stair that spiraled upwards into the darkness.

I took the steps, one at a time, moving closer and further from the wall, looking for holes and weak points in the wood. I surpassed the second floor, saving it for last. I moved on up to the attic. It covered the whole expanse of the house and I was careful where I stepped for there had been a great fire up here just after the owners left and had left the whole floor weak. A few objects had remained before the fire and as testament a large, blackened chest sat in the middle of the floor. I swept my light across the large, nearly empty expanse, bugs scurrying away from the light. With a shiver I descended back down to the second floor to begin the search there.

I stood at the top of the grand stair and looked down the hall, rumored to have once been painted a wonderful sky blue at its prime, then been painted a pale green and covered in framed art in my memory now missing most of its paint. I walked for the wood floor and stopped before the first open door. I peered inside and saw that it was the remains of a large library. Many of the shelves had fallen over, spilling their contents across the smooth floor. Dust covered anything and it hadn’t looked like it had been disturbed since the abandonment. I moved on and peered into the bathroom, which was how I remembered it, except for the bugs and dust and mold. I quickly moved on, wanting to check the bedrooms and be done with it. The spare room was the same as the others full of bugs and dust.

I moved down and stood at the end of the hall, looking up at the only closed door, the door to the master bedroom. I turned the handle and pushed the door open. The door opened only just enough for me to slip in. There was a broken window here so some sunlight made its way in here. The bed looked as if a knife had been taken to it and the remaining pillows had been shredded leaving feathers everywhere, to blow around in the breeze. I peered behind the door to see what was keeping it from opening and almost passed out. There lying in a pool of her own blood was a woman, who looked to have been killed within the last few days explaining the footsteps in the dust.

I turned and hurried back downstairs, careful to follow my own prints back down the stairs. I went out and shut the door behind me and sank down onto the stoop and took out my phone, calling the police. Boy this dare had turned out to be a lot more. 


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