MOVING IN
RYAN'S POINT OF VIEW
My head turns constantly as I watch all of the moving vans pass our house, wobbling as there beds try to topple to the side as they take the sharp turn causing them to disappear among the trees, as the enter the long driveway like path towards the mansion that seems to always be on the market; and for good reason.
“How long has that house been vacant?” I inquire to my motherstanding to my right.
“Well I believe the last residents passed away when you were ten…so I guess it’s been about seven years now!” she answers in aww as we both walk backwards and sit on our porch swing while we continue to watch the parade of vehicles.
“Why has it been so long? Homes usually don’t last that long on the market,” I speculate.
“Well that is usually true, and there has been a lot of people coming to check out that house, but every time a person would get close to closing they would hear about the house’s history, and they all seem to back out.
“Sheri thought she’d never sell it.”
Looking over towards my mother I speculate, “How did they find out?”
I watch her shrug. “I think it’s in the contract somewhere that they have to be made aware for some reason, why someone would have that clause, I have no idea.”
“I certainly wouldn’t want to live in a house like that, no matter how big, or cheap it is.
“I mean one murder is one thing, but five!” I then scoff, “Talk about a haunted house.”
My mother’s head shakes. “I’m right there with you.”
Turning my body towards her. “Hey mom, I was just thinking about something.”
“And what’s that?”
“Your parents moved here when you were younger, and I’ve lived here since I was born, so there has been several murders right next door. Why are we still living here? I mean not only are people getting killed consistently but they’re pretty disturbing, and literally next door, why have we never moved?”
I feel her hand on my shoulder as she sighs while her blue eyes meet mine identical ones. “Because sweetie,” I roll my eyes at the annoying nickname, “like you said I’ve lived here my whole life, and being an only child when both of my parents passed away the house, that is completely payed off, became mine. So not only do I have a job that I love, but I’m living in a town that I love with a son that I love,” she says squeezing me in a hug. “
“If I were really worried about haunted legends, yes I could try to move, and that would’ve been an option probably years ago, but with only one income it not only would be hard, but we wouldn’t have any extra income, therefore not letting us live the lives we would want; let alone if we could even make the house payment each month.
“I’m sorry Sweetie! If you’re really worried about it I could look into—”
Just thinking about what my sperm donor did to us makes not only my blood to boil, instantly cutting her off, “No! If you’re not worried about it, then neither am I. In fact…” I start to stand up walking down our porch looking over my shoulder at my mother one last time informing her, “I think I’ll go and introduce myself to our neighbors and offer my help with moving in if they need it.”
I watch her stand up and out of the porch swing, “Well now I feel like I should go with you?”
Walking backwards down the stone path. “Don’t worry about it mom. You can’t help them move anything right now, and knowing you, you’d go and do something stupid and try to anyways.
“Listen to your doctors, and go and rest! I’ll be back before you know it.”
She then turns with her red curly hair whipping her in the face. Looking back towards me one last time shouting, “Hey I love you little man!”
Shaking my head I smile and wave. “Love you too mom!”
Walking in the tree line, off to the side of the dirt path acting as a massive driveway to the mansion built in the 1800’s sitting on nearly twenty acres of it’s own land. Our tiny two acres (if you’re comparing the two) use to all be this houses property, as well as a bunch of other houses, but when the first unsolved murder happened in 1950, nobody wanted to buy that house for so long that they took several acres and made different properties.
Finally after the fifteen minute walk (uphill) I arrive at the aforementioned haunted mansion itself. The four white moving vans parked out front only slightly taking away from it’s eery feel.
Then again I might be biased almost my entire life there has only been someone living there for three years at the most, leaving it empty and therefore ‘haunted’ to all of the neighborhood children; me being one of them.
Nobody in town could blamed us, and they dared not tell us it wasn’t haunted, which only piqued my interest. Which is probably why when I got to my teenage years and was bored one day I decided to look into the empty mansion…That might’ve been the worst decision I’ve ever made: I became obsessed.
The farthest back I could find was 1950: the Perry family.
Five total in the family. To quote the news article, ‘Around midnight the neighbors (the Jones) heard what could only be described as a bloodcurdling scream.’ That’s right the neighbors who were at the very least ten to fifteen acres away (depending on where the house is built and how many acres they had back then) heard their screams. They called the police right away.
Rushing to the scene the police got there as soon as they could, but it didn’t matter. When they arrived the police had to break down the door, later finding it was locked from the inside. Upon further inspection they don’t know how the assailant got out because all of the doors were locked by their chains, as well as the windows.
That’s not even the craziest thing they found, every one of the members bodies were found unnaturally bent backwards in a ‘P’ form.
What really gets me though is that they don’t know how they died. Every single member had a terrified look frozen upon their face, so it was obviously something horrible, but they couldn’t figure out their cause of death. They also weren’t able to find any fingerprints anywhere throughout the house, and I’m not saying any fingerprints other than the family, I’m saying none whatsoever. It’s as if no human had ever stepped foot in the house: that’s too unnatural for me to forget about.
After that every family that has dare buy that house has come to an end quickly after the ink has dried.
Every. One. Of. Them.
I still have all of the articles printed out in my room at home, I keep the picture of the Perrys up on my wall not wanting them to be forgotten, only glancing at it from time to time when I’m really bored.
I can’t explain it, but I have a need to figure out what happened to that family…get them the peace that they weren’t able to find.
“Hey, maybe this family will be alive long enough for me to find something in this old mansion nobody was able to find?” We have a lot more advancements now then they did in the 1950’s; there’s a lot they could’ve missed, I conclude to myself clapping my hands together I reach my fist out.
The door is then ripped open before my fist has a chance to meet oak.
“You can’t just leave me! We just got here, and most of this junk isn’t even mine!” A five foot fireball shouts looking back at (what I’m guessing is her mother) before sticking her hand out towards me and no matter how hard I try I’m unable to avoid getting whacked in the middle of my chest, her hand stopping there.
I glance from her tiny hand on my chest, briefly over at the long haired brunette woman trying to stifle a laugh as her daughter is frozen in her place; completely silent.
Slowly turning around I see the most beautiful girl I have ever had the pleasure to set my eyes upon.
With redness creeping onto her cheeks, I’m unable to hide my smile as she apologizes, “I am so sorry! I didn’t see you.”
“Well I would hope so,” I tease.
I then grab her hand that is still resting on my abs. Taking a step back I begin to shake her hand. “Hi, I’m Ryan!”
She then squints her extremely rare violet eyes while tilting her head, “Irish?”
Copying her action, I feel my black hair flip to the side. “Why do you ask?”
Quickly straightening up she begins to shakily explain, “T-the freckles. They’re seen more on redheads…Irish or Scottish background.”
Her mother then scoffs and mutters something unrecognizable under her breath.
Rolling her eyes I answer her original question, “Ryan Fitzgerald, so yes very Irish.
“I just came to introduce myself and see if you needed any extra hands to help moving your stuff in.”
I then see her mother pushing her out of the way as her hand is pulled out of mine.
The brunette then sticks her bony hand out towards mine. “Well isn’t that nice! Why don’t you come in Ryan? Say how old are you?”
Being gently pulled into the mansion by the slim mother, for some reason in a black cocktail dress and a black fur boa wrapped around her shoulders.
“I’m—” I get cut off by the girl (about my age if I were to guess) pulling me out of her mother’s grip.
“I think it’s time for you to leave mother!” she bites out at the woman, leaving me in the dark.
Rolling her eyes she turns around and walks out the door yelling over her shoulder, “He’s only seventeen Áine, still got a year!”
Sighing she goes and shuts the door behind her mother leaving her hands there a moment too long. Turning back towards me, she smiles. “Sorry about that!” Then sticking out her hand. “I’m Áine, if you hadn’t guessed that part.”
Grabbing her hand. “It’s no problem! If you need to run and get that I completely understand.”
Looking at me with a confused face she asks, “Run to what?”
Glancing up the huge staircase. “Oh I could’ve swore I heard a baby crying.”
Áine lets out a chuckle. “Nope no baby. It must’ve been this old house making sounds...or something.”
Staring at her round lips making the most beautiful smile for a little too long, she begins to touch her cheeks. “What? Do I have something on my face?”
“Oh no it’s nothing like that.”
She then grabs a strand of her hair looking annoyed. “It’s my hair isn’t it? I was born this way. For some reason my hair has no melanin in it. I’ve tried dying it before but if you’ve ever died gray hair before, it barely takes, and mine at basically white, it’s even worse; so it’s not worth it.
It’s then my turn to laugh. “It’s not your hair either. Trust me, you’re beautiful!” I accidentally say.
Stunned she freezes in her spot. “Oh…well thank you! You’re not so bad yourself!”
