Don't Go In Alone

FRIDAY OCTOBER 25

Gravel crunching underneath our boots. The wind in the trees. The house, with its peeling paint and decrepit structure, casting eerie shadows against the dying foliage scattered around it. The moon, bright and washing the color out of everything around us. It's like when we walk through the gate that's only hanging on by one hinge now, the saturation is drained from the world.

None of it helps me feel any better of coming over here. I pull at the sleeves of my sweatshirt, curl them around my fingers in hopes of warming them up. They're stiff from the chill in the air. Or the lack of circulation.

A gust of wind blows from behind the house. Fills the air with eerie whistling and groans from the house. Leaves skitter across the gravel driveway. One sticks to the toe of my shoe before joining the rest in their dash away from the house.

Kids at school boast about coming out here at night and going inside all the time. I'm not sure any of them actually do though. They just say they do and who is gonna prove them wrong? It's not like anyone pays attention to the house. It's easier to not look at it when you pass by. To ignore the looming darkness that seems to ooze out of the moldy siding.

It's been abandoned for nearly two decades, according to town gossip. I've never heard of anyone being remotely interested in buying the property. Even though it's a decent sized lot with a house that could be amazing if it were renovated, I can't blame anyone for not wanting to live here. Not with the vibe the house gives off.

The place gives me the heebie-jeebies.

"Do we really need to go in?" I tear my gaze away from the house. The tension between my shoulders eases slightly once the eye contact has been broken.

Kristi grins from ear to ear, showing off her pearly white teeth. "Why? Are you scared already?" In the moonlight, she looks like she could be mistaken for a ghost wandering the property with her platinum hair and pale skin. When I don't answer right away, she laughs. A single huff of breath that clouds in front of her face. "Ha, come on. It's not that bad. It's just a house. Right, Case?"

"Hm?" Casey tugs at the dark strands of her bangs that are poking out of her beanie. Her eyes focus on us, seem to come back to where we're standing on the driveway to the old Victorian house. "Sorry. I spaced for a minute. What was the question?"

"Molly says she's freaking out already and we've only gone through the gate."

"I never said I was freaking out. This place just gives me the creeps." I purposely keep my eyes away from the house, but I can feel it behind me. Towering over me. Laughing at the feeling growing in my stomach that we really should not be here.

"If Molly's uncomfortable, maybe we should just forget it," Casey says.

I feel the rock in my stomach dissolve a little. Casey's always dependable for things like that. Making sure when we do stuff together that everyone in the group is ok with what's happening. I send her a silent thank you and she smiles at me, that little smile that's really only the corners of her mouth curling up.

And then there's Kris. Who forgets to think about other people's feelings when she makes decisions sometimes. "Come on," she draws the o out longer than is necessary, "everything makes Molly uncomfortable. Will you two quit being sissies? Let's do this. It'll be fun, I promise." She rubs her hands together, blows on them and gives both of us a look. "Don't you want to be able to tell people that we have actually, truthfully, genuinely gone inside the creepy old Victorian?"

I feel my resolve to fight her about this fizzling away. My shoulders drop and my breath puffs out in a cloud of white that fades into the night air slowly. "Fine. Let's get it over with. I don't like being here."