The First and the Last Visit

The First and the Last Visit

To Cedar Crest Drive

There is a full moon. It is pitch black and raining outside. As I lookdown the street I can see the fog setting only feet away from me. It is on this evening when my curiosity gets the best of me. I want to know why my mother never allowed me to go down Cedar Crest Drive.

I've heard many stories about a haunted house down there. The stories, however, have varied. I heard somebody had been gruesomely murdered in there. I also heard that a young man had starved himself to death. I heard he literally looked like a skeleton when they took him out. There were two general consensuses though. One was that these things happened many years ago. The other was that nobody has seen anyone come into or come out of the house alive.

As I drive down the street I see what appears to be an abandoned house. The house has a very old and dirty appearance. It looks like a house you would see in a movie. Such as "Halloween" or "Friday the 13th" type movies. Some of the windows are broken and others are boarded up. The shutters have pieces and paint chipping off. Not only that, I don't think there is one shutter on the whole place that is straight up. They are all either crooked or missing.

An incredibly tall fence surrounds the house. I attempt to lift the latch but it doesn't budge. I try again, still nothing. The latch seems to be rusted shut as if it were a sign not to enter the premises. Then I push up putting all my weight into it. The latch soars up; the gate flies open. Consequently I fall to the muddy ground. After I stand up and brush some leaves and dirt off of myself I proceed into the yard through the creaky gate.

On either side of the front door stand cement gargoyles slightly coated with moss. I move past the creepy figures towards the door. The door is boarded up with what has to be three boxes of nails. This is probably another sign. Now I realize that I will have to enter through one of the broken windows.

I come in through what turns out to be the living room window. The smell of dead flesh lurking in the house is enough to knock you out. I am having flashbacks to my friends telling me those stories. I'm thinking maybe somebody really did die in here. I snap out of it because I know that I have to go on. The daunting house is dark except for the light from the full moon peeking in via the broken windows. I use a small flashlight to get around even though it doesn't give off much light. The room is full of ancient furniture that is covered with soiled dusty sheets. There are cobwebs everywhere I inspect. Some have spiders the size of a quarter on them. The floor squeaks all over. It sounds like hundreds of hungry mice squealing for food. The wind is howling as it blows through the small openings between the boards on the windows in the next room. The house creaks with the wind outside.

I decide to explore further. Suddenly there is a gust wind and a slam upstairs. The breeze left a taste of dust in my mouth. I find myself running down a dim hall. Subsequent to tripping over a loose floor