House on Winchester Avenue

I had a nightmare today while I napped and after I woke it stayed with me. I figured I'd write it down and when I was finished (with the first part) I'd decided I'd share what I have so far...maybe the dream will leave and I won't have to finish the rest. I hate nightmares.

The House on Winchester Avenue

The furniture was still inside. That was the first thing that struck me as odd. As it stood the house was already a steal. With all the furnishings left behind we could possibly pay down the mortgage by half. As I walked past the living room into the hallway I couldn’t help but stare at the bedrooms, each lined on the right side of the hall, each with an empty doorframe. To the left were windows, one window to each space of wall opposite it. It was as if the windows offered each resident a teasing glimpse at the world right outside.

The bedrooms were equally odd. I took my place at the top master bedroom and looked down. It was like staring at one of those hidden image paintings, or being inside a hotel that had the shared doors between. All you had to do was stand at an angle to see directly down the three dimensional path into each room. Only in this house there were no doors to knock on, instead large framed entrances that had two long thin stairs leading you up or down to the next room. The first room was the master bedroom, done in biege, the second was done in mauve and the last in cream. I assumed the family before shared the home with children but I wasn’t sure. When I’d asked the realtor repeated her general response.

“I’m sorry, I was just given this estate.”

One thing remained the same throughout the home though, the furniture. The couches, love seats, lamps, beds, dressers, and televisions all sat as if the previous inhabitants never intended to leave. Even the kitchen was stocked with every appliance a person could want. I’d half expected the fridge to be stocked as well but was relieved to find it empty and clean.

“What are we going to do with all this furniture,” I asked myself. We could sell it I was certain. Some of the stuff looked vintage and the couch was leather. The bedroom furniture was also matching and looked equally intricate. One thing was certain, we couldn’t move in our new things until we moved out the old ones.

I finished off my first walk around our new home to turn off the lights and walked to my purse. I opened the flaps to reach inside for my keys when I paused. Didn’t I place my purse on the top of the bench? Why was it hanging from the coat rack? I slowly pulled the purse down and looked behind me. Maybe I was wrong but I could have sworn.

I quickly grabbed my jacket which lay as I’d left it and put it on before hurrying outside to the car. I climbed inside and started to pull out of the drive. I looked to make sure it was clear to back out and quickly glanced at the house. What I saw made me slam on my breaks and the hair on my nape rise and stand on edge.

Each window glowed from within from the lights turned on inside. But I turned off all the lights didn’t I?

That was my first introduction to the possibility something might be wrong with the house on Winchester Avenue, something very very wrong.