500 Words

Some people swore that the house was haunted.  But Jenna wasn’t the kind of person who ever believed what anyone else told her.  The stories her mother and aunts always mentioned never sounded like they could be true.  They were about stupid things like knocking sounds coming from the attic and objects mysteriously falling off tables.  Just stupid. 

            Jenna put the key in the lock and turned.  This used to be Grandma and Grandpa’s house.  She had loved this place and was never scared of it even once.  But now, with her grandparents being dead and the house’s alleged status as “haunted,” her mother had ordered it to be demolished.  This was Jenna’s last chance to see if any of the stories could be true.

            She walked up the creaky staircase.  She checked her reflection in the mirror.  The glass wasn’t cracked.  The November wind rattled the windows.  She wasn’t scared.

            Jenna walked out of the house.  It was just an old country house.  There was nothing wrong with it.  She walked around to the back of the house and saw a deep hole in the ground.  She didn’t remember ever seeing this before.  She got down on hands and knees and looked into the darkness.  A pile of human skulls gazed back.

            Jenna screamed.  She didn’t know what else to do.  What did this mean about her grandparents?  Why didn’t any of her relatives tell her about anything like this? 

            She looked up at the house and saw a full skeleton in the window of the kitchen.  She screamed again and then tried to convince herself that she was just seeing things. 

            She thought about getting into her car and driving back home as quickly as she could, speed limit and state trooper be damned.  But she couldn’t leave.

            The key entered the lock again and Jenna went into the kitchen.  She looked everywhere for the skeleton that she knew she had just seen.  It wasn’t hiding in the oven, or in the closet, or in the cabinets.  She couldn’t have just imagined it.  That would be stupid.

            The tablecloth slid right off the kitchen table and crumpled on the floor. 

            Knock knock knock.

            The sound was definitely coming from the attic.

            Jenna screamed again.  Once again she thought of getting in the car, and once again she decided against it. 

            She pulled open the ladder to the attic.  It squealed in protest, opening for the first time in decades. 

            The knocking continued as she started ripping apart floorboards.  What was making that noise?

            She stared out the tiny attic window and tried to find the skulls in the deep hole.  She didn’t see them.  The knocking stopped and she calmed down.  She cried and whispered words of reassurance to herself.  Then a bony hand touched her shoulder and she passed out while screaming.

            Hours later she woke up in her car and had no idea how she had gotten there.  Nothing was ever the same again after that.