This short story will be linked up at the SHORT STORY PROMPT LINK PARTY 18.
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, and Part 4.
Ready? Here’s the prompt:
It was Friday, time for the weekend to…
Now, here’s my version:
WHO WAS BEHIND THE CURTAIN? – PART 5
It was Friday, time for the weekend to start. I had decided to stay a few extra days and sort of make it up to my aunt and uncle for causing them to worry about me. We enjoyed spending the extra days together, watching old black and white TV shows that they loved, looking at old photos, cooking and baking with my aunt, and talking to my uncle about old times as I watched him tinker with an old tractor in the barn.
I never spoke about the old house again to my aunt and uncle. Leaving them was sad but I had to get back to my home in the city and prepare for the coming work week.
As soon as we said goodbye and I pulled out of their driveway, I knew exactly where I was headed. I couldn’t leave town without going to the old house. I just couldn’t stay away. It was like I was drawn to the house and property.
Arriving at the house, I promptly exited my car, walked into the yard, up the front steps onto the porch, and directly over to the front door. Looking at the window next to the door, there was nothing behind it, nothing there.
Turning the knob, I was surprised that it wasn’t locked. Opening the door and going inside felt okay to me, felt safe and not at all scary. It looked like any typical abandoned property. Worn and weathered furniture, old decor, dirt, dust, spiderwebs…
Walking through the house made me feel sad. It looked like a family home with framed photos here and there, toys scattered about. It actually looked like it had been a nice home at one time. I wondered about the family, who were they, what had happened to them, and who currently owned the property? I knew I needed to be on my way but I decided to go to the county courthouse and search the records.
I quickly found all of the information I needed with the help of a friendly clerk. Seems the house and property had been abandoned after the owners passed away. The property was now owned by their great grandson. The elderly clerk only knew the grandson’s name and that the property tax payments were up to date. She did add that he’d been in town a few weeks ago and had mentioned that he was going to demolish the old house and build a new one in its place.
I just had to ask her did she know of the legend and the curse. She smiled at me and said yes, she knew of the tale. She assured me that it was just a tale created by teenagers many years ago.
I told her the story about my parents and what the girls at the reunion knew. She said she was sorry but assured me again that it was just a tale. She added that her and her cousins used to visit the old house every Halloween when they were younger and that they were all fine and doing well.
A few months later…
While visiting my aunt and uncle during the fall after my tenth reunion, I drove by the old house and property. My curiosity about the old place had never waned. That particular day a large crew with equipment was in the process of demolishing the old house and leveling the property. I parked my car and walked over to a handsome young man who appeared to be in charge. I found out that day that he was the owner, the great grandson of the previous owners.
Ten years later…
Time had passed, so much had happened in the ten years since my reunion. I began dating the great grandson then we were married. We later designed and built our new home on the property. We loved and shared much joy and happiness there.
Today, the present…
I smiled as I turned into the driveway, returning home after shopping for a dress. My husband and I would be attending my twentieth reunion tomorrow evening. As I walked toward the door, two little sets of eyes peeked out from behind the curtain of the large front window! My twin toddlers smiled and waved at me, eagerly waiting for me inside along with their dad.
*This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
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