The Townhouse

in Scholar and Scribe2 months ago

The townhouse opposite mine was beautiful. It was the first and last thing I looked at from my bedroom window every day. It heavily disturbed my six-year-old mind at the time why Dad hadn't chosen there instead. It seemed to be radiating every time I looked at it. The sun and moon shone on its roof so exquisitely, it appeared almost otherworldly. Ethereal.

The first time I asked Dad about the house, he looked confused.

“What house?” he’d asked.

“Oh Dad, it’s the one just opposite.”

“I don’t see any house, kitten.” He replied, giving me a strange look. I wasn’t sure if it was the look he gave me but I remember having goosebumps. I ran away from the kitchen and went back to my room upstairs. I sprinted to my window seat. It was still there. I wasn’t crazy. There was a house there.

I didn't mention the house again. I was content to just looking at it. When I was sad, angry or even needed to sleep, I simply had to look at it. It was my happy place. Then I turned eight, and it finally occurred to me. How come I hadn’t ever seen anyone come out or go into the house? Like ever.

And so I went to Dad again and asked him.
“Why does no one ever live in the pretty house?”

“What pretty house, Kitten?”

I rolled my eyes. Dad had commented how pretty the window design was just the other day, yet he still had to ask this. “The house opposite ours, Dad. Why doesn’t anyone ever live there?”

He scratched his head a bit. “I don’t know, Kitten. It’s pretty so I’m guessing it must be expensive to buy.”

“Oh. Is that why you didn’t buy it and chose this instead?”

Dad was silent for a few seconds. Then he responded. “I hadn’t seen it at the time.”

When I was ten years old, someone moved into the house. It was a young woman. She didn’t seem to have any other person living with her, but a dog. And very early in the morning every day, she’d take the dog for walks and bring him back in time to leave for work. Once she left for work, the dog would cry. Barking and whining for hours on end.

I usually went to school too so I didn’t notice this but on the week I’d been down with the flu, I noticed. All day the dog cried. I kept wondering why. And I thought to myself that he probably missed the lady. Somehow I wished she would talk to me. I’d have offered to help her babysit the dog sometime. But she had her nose up in the air and earpods tucked tightly into her ears. Dad didn't like me talking to strangers so that was that.

Then one day, she left. At least, I think she did. I don’t know what happened. But she didn’t walk her dog in the morning by 6am like she used to, and I didn’t hear the cry of a dog anymore. The house still sat there though. As beautiful as ever. Maybe even more beautiful. I hoped someone would move in soon. No one did though. And the house sat there silent.

I turned fifteen when Dad got me a dog as a birthday gift. It was a Golden retriever. I adored it so much and spent every minute of my non-school hours with it. At this time I’d gotten over my obsession with the pretty house. Not like it had lost its novelty to me. But I was just tired of watching it every day. I guess the older I got, the more that itchy feeling that something wasn’t right about the house grew. At this time three more people had moved into the house. And just like the first person I saw, they all had their nose in the air and would suddenly move out. I didn’t see any moving company at any point. But I guess they had their way around it.

One day, Candy was restless. He kept barking at the house which he ignored most of the time and kept inching to go towards it. Dad wasn’t at home and I didn’t know what to do.

“Alright, Candy. Let’s go check the house out.” I said when she wouldn’t stop barking.

I put Candy on her leash and we began to walk to the house. I felt this nagging feeling that someone was looking at me from the interior of the house even as I moved towards it. Candy, who’d been barking nonstop had also fallen silent.

As I neared the front door, I saw the curtain swish a bit and I was immediately alarmed. Was there someone in this house? I began to feel this was a bad idea and was going to turn back. Then I heard, “Is someone out there? I’m coming out now.” It was a lady’s voice. She sounded young and cheery. Too cheery. Just as the doorknob turned and began to open, someone grabbed me from behind. I screamed in fright and turned to see a wide-eyed Dad as he clutched me to himself.

“Let’s go home,” he said.


“I'll explain when we get home, Kitten. Let’s just go.”

Dad held me fast to himself but the moment we got into the house, I got out of his grasp and ran to my room. When I got to the window, I let out a gasp. There was nothing there. No tall, sprawling house of beauty. Just a small regular bungalow with playing kids.

I couldn’t believe it.

There was no house.

I let out a scream then and felt the dark spots that had already been swimming behind my eyes sweep me into a dead faint.


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Goosebumps and all as I read this thriller. I think it should be something spiritual, a haunted house or place perhaps.
I enjoyed it here ☺️

Thank you. Glad you enjoyed the story. 🌺

This was a good spooky story. It was a fun read, even though I don't understand what happened at the end.

Glad you enjoyed it.🌺

That story really had something very dark. Very interesting reading, I was caught by the ending, where we discover that the house is simply no longer there.

Thanks for sharing your story.
Good day.

I'm glad you enjoyed it. I was somewhat unsure how to make the ending go.🌺