The Lonely House

“I’ve got to go over and check…”

“You on about the house again? Honestly, Sandra, this is getting ridiculous. Leave it be, would ya?”

“Leave it be?! She’s not left that house in over two months, Robert!”

“We're doing this again, huh?”

“I'm telling you... there is something up with that house; it wants to be noticed.”

“It’s just a rundown house, stop being silly.”

“Silly?” Sandra huffed and made her way to their front door. 

“Be home for dinner!” Robert called after her as she slammed the door shut.

Sandra steadied herself against the door. She had never gotten close to the lonely house before, only ever watched from the safe distance of her window. After a few moments of reassurance, she made her way up the hill. It's just a rundown house; her husband's words replaying in her mind, but was it really? Atop the slope sat a rather unassuming clapboard house. It was quite downtrodden and needed some work but was nice enough, most of the time. Sandra considered the first time she noticed it: Christmas eve about two decades ago. The carolers had skipped the lonely house, seemingly oblivious to its existence. When they passed it by it called out to them, but only Sandra could hear it. The sound of despair, the sound of longing for someone... anyone. Sounds that would be heard several times throughout Sandra's life, sounds she was all too familiar with.

Halfway up the hill Sandra hesitated. She remembered all the times she had called the police with concerns about strange noises, but they did nothing, knew nothing, heard nothing, saw nothing. If what she believed about the lonely house to be true, would she also become nothing?

"Stop being silly! It's just a house..." her voice trailed off as she scanned the house and its surrounding overgrown yard. Just over two months ago, the yard had been littered with boxes and furniture belonging to who Sandra assumed to be the new owner. She had watched the woman carry everything inside and then never saw her again. Sandra had told Robert about their new neighbor, but he argued the house was vacant; she never did convince him. "I need to know," Sandra convinced herself.

After a deep breath she pushed forward arriving at the porch steps, but these weren't the same porch steps anymore: they were brand new. The whole house was new and there was someone on the porch; the picture perfect scene.

"Mom?" Sandra gasped, but the woman only smiled with outstretched arms. "Is that really you?" she choked through swelling tears, but it didn't matter the answer. She rushed into her mother’s embrace and was scooped off the ground and swung around just like when she was a kid.

"But you're dead..." she cried into her mother’s neck.

"I know," came the reply: "Let's go inside, shall we?"

Sandra held tightly onto her mother; she would not be home for dinner.