It was a hot, summer’s day as I walked on the dirt road with only silence along my side. As I continued on the road I discovered it led to an old abandoned house. I couldn’t help but stop for a few minutes and look at the details of the huge, strange shaped house. I noticed that it had been a long time since anybody even took a look at the house. The old house was left to die, alone, with no one to care.
The paint was peeling, the windows were broken and the shingles had been torn from the roof, probably by past storms. What caught my eye was that the unkempt yard, it looked like it hadn’t been cut since the house was abandoned, the grass was almost my height and there was nothing but weeds everywhere. I imagined this house would’ve probably been huge and gorgeous in its days. It had three full stories.
The fourth floor had an attic where you could sit and see the sunset on the horizon. The house also had a huge porch with large white columns making a fence to support the balcony. The columns were full of dirt; they looked less white and more brownish-black. As I slowly continued to walk past the house, I could hear the wind whistling through the broken windows. I could see the leftovers of the curtains moving gently in the breeze and the grass swishing left and right in the wind.
As I was giving the house a final look I thought I saw a silhouette of somebody beside the window gazing upon me so I started to walk a little bit faster. As I walked I wondered how much longer this house could stand up to the rain and wind before it surrendered itself to nature or would people destroy it and replace it. Maybe it would just be left alone there and would continue standing quietly with its dark, window eyes begging for mercy.