The House through Time

Perched high on the hilltop, watching over the meadow lay the guardian of Rusty's family. Lofty and Robust it stood, it was their shelter. By comparison this house was a behemoth to others. Their mansion flourished with hallways, with twists and turns. Getting lost in it wasn't an abnormality, not even for Rusty and his family.
Rusty's family was rather well bound; they were a typical mundane family that practiced the simple rituals of the standard American household. The family ate meals together; on Fridays, they all nestled in front of the television to view a film, and even on Sundays they all covered themselves in fancy uniforms and visited the house of the lord. There was nothing truly outstanding within his family, disregarding the massive fortune in wealth they beared. Their stance in wealth was due entirely to his father's occupation, which still remained a mystery to the family.
The upcoming weekend, Rusty's father had a business meeting, and him and his mother would be left alone in the house. As his father left his mother routinely prepared dinner, nothing had altered from their standard Friday rituals without the presence of the father. They continued by watching a film and then were soon ready to sleep.
In the middle of the evening, Rusty's mother voyaged through their monstrous mansion checking for misplaced items, and to assure Rusty was sleeping. She arrived at Rusty's bedroom door. Her eyes tracked the pale white door down to the seam at which it met with the bland white carpet. Her eyes were greeted with a dim light barely escaping the reaches of Rusty's room.
She had figured, Rusty's father had been on a trip so he would attempt his best to stay up after his bed time. She echoed her voice to Rusty's door instead of entering "Rusty! I see you're awake, go to bed!" She saw a shadow swiftly move as it was followed by rumbling on the floor. The light hastily went off. She was content, at him being obedient. She turned and started walking down the hall. She was startled quickly; her ears were exposed to a familiar voice. 
From the other end of the house she heard Rusty yell, "Sorry mom, I'll go to bed at the end of this episode I promise."
She was filled with disbelief, her stomach felt weightless. Overpowered in fear, she gazed back to the door which now seemed like a shield protecting her from whatever lay in her son's bedroom. She knew she would have to open the door; she grabbed a nearby kitchen knife, gripped tightly as her last defense. She sluggishly turned the knob. Her heart raced, sweat spewed from her forehead, her entire body shook uncontrollably. She pounded the door open; her head looked back and forth, up and down. Her eyes scanned the room in every crease and every corner, but still it was empty. She remained baffled at the incident.
She then decided it must have been some sort of prank her son was pulling. She said in a somewhat mocking voice, “Haha Rusty, come on, tell me how you did it.”
She hears no response. “Rusty,” she says in what still sounds like a mocking tone. She says, “Rusty” again this time in a slightly questionable tone. Soon, she looks in fear down the hall, and begins to run. Her calls turn to screams as she runs yelling, “RUSTY! RUSTY!” She arrives at the room his voice originated from.
No sign of her son was in the room, and the television seemed broken. There was an irritating loud fuzzy noise emanating from it. The room filled with the light from the TV. She moved to turn it off. When she turned off the TV she wondered why it was fuzzy. She tried to find the input it was on, and it should’ve been playing VCR. Her attention shifted to the VCR and she pressed the button to eject whatever was inside. She noticed it was a family tape from years back. She flipped it over; someone had scratched and ripped the tape up. Her attention soon shifted again as she heard the noise of footsteps pattering upstairs. She looked upstairs, but was shocked much more by something else.
As she looked across the room all of the family photos, all of the pictures were gone. Replacing it were the repulsive, hateful words written in red, “LEAVE OUR HOUSE”. Her vocals shot up as she screamed. Her shriek must have been heard through the entire house. As she turned to run she bumped into something and fell to the floor.
She gazed up and recognized her son’s face. 
“Mom?” Rusty asked, “What are you doing?” 
His mother grabbed him and they ran to the closet. She locked the door from the inside. She sat and explained the oddities that occurred. Both sat in disbelief. The mother attempted calling the father several times but he didn’t respond.
As the mother fiddled with the phone, Rusty noticed something peculiar, he pointed in the direction of the mother. She looked at where he pointed. In the location was a shelf in the closet. The closet they locked themselves in. The door hadn't been opened, hadn't been closed since they entered. On that shelf laid her kitchen knife, and above it was a message reading “Forgetting something?”
The mother looked away and began balling, she felt helpless trapped in the closet unsafe from any intruder. She decided it was time to call the police. As the police answered, they asked her name her address and they promised to arrive as quickly as possible. She remained on the phone with the respondent. As she spoke there was creaking and rumbling throughout the entire home. The walls emitted dust, the ceiling rained pieced of wood. However it was nearly invisible for they were encompassed by darkness.
As Rusty’s mother spoke over the phone, the cop said, “Ma'am, it looks like we have arrived at the address.”
“Oh thank god,” she said. 
He spoke again, “However, are you sure this is the correct address?” 
Her heart sank, “yes, yes it is, why do you ask?” 
He spoke back, “Look if this is some prank please don’t waste our time, the address you gave us is one to the Corleone estate, it was a mansion that was burned down more than fifty years ago.”
Trembling she spoke, filled with uncertainty, “Ar- are you sure?”
He responded, “Yes ma'am, in fact it was burned down by the father of whoever lived. He was involved in some sort of odd job, very mysterious man, he was supposedly on some business trip.” Rusty’s mother dropped the phone. Rusty looked at his mother.
“Mom, is everything alright?” he asked.
His mother was speechless, then she looked at her son and spoke, “We are getting the hell out of here.” Both seemed teeming with new emotion. They stood up; ready to escape the mind boggling house. Rusty flicked the light on. As they oppened the door, their new found emotion was quickly crumbled. The room they were originally in was entirely different. The walls were more stretched the ceiling grew higher. The wood surrounding them looked older. For a brief moment his mother and he lay defeated, but she knew she had to continue fighting. She reached for the door, but this time, it was locked from the outside.
She pounded again and again on the door, and soon was halted by a familiar voice. Her husband yelled “Don’t worry honey it will only hurt for a bit.” Rusty and her screamed, the room they sat in was soon joined by the stench of kerosene fumes. Flames went up, the scorching fire raged, Rusty and his mother were encompassed in fire. The house burnt to the ground.
Fifty years later, a new estate was built, and a new family filled it. They seemed happy on the lot, and rather pleased with the property. Things seemed to be going well. They followed the rituals that many American families did. All but one, the father was a busy man. So busy, in fact he very soon would be leaving; leaving for a business trip…
Category:Mental Illness
Category:Reality
Category:Places