Ignored and Forgotten | Short Story Monday #4

The house was delapetated. Half of the house's roof had missing or fallen shingles, the other half of the roof had entirely caved in. Maybe a storm did it. Maybe it happened over time. Mould grew around the walls of the exterior. In parts you could still see the yellowish cream that once wrapped around it. The exterior of the place was completely littered. There was broken, rain ruined furniture; a plastic chair with only three legs, a wooden cupboard with the doors hanging on the hinges, a table flipped upside down, a bed with no bed posts. There was also several old blankets, a handful of dirty, ripped up toys, broken glass shards, water logged planks of unused wood, and an old mouldy mattress that covered the overgrown grass and weeds. The neighbours that lived around the building held it's story close to them. No one peeped a word about it. In fact, they often seemed to just ignore it. The windows had been sealed shut with cement to prevent homeless people from sheltering within its walls. If someone had lived in it, it must have been at least a decade or two ago. Even the sign on the side of the house was faded. Where words once lived, now only a blur of whatever this place was called. The place had a short cement fence running around the outside, the garden behind it was a good size but not exceptionally large, it was big enough however, to fit at least an outdoor dinning area, bbq and one of those large inflatable pools. To get to the house there was a staircase of about 12 steps, with metal railings on either side. They had previously been covered with nice reddish tiles, but most of the tiles had now either been weather withered, while others had disappeared, maybe hiding beneath the knee high, unkempt grass.

I lived in the apartment building across the way. Living in one of the tallest apartments I could clearly see the residence from my balcony. I often stood there and wondered what sort of creatures lived inside. With the grossness that was the outside area, I could only imagine that the abandoned place was far worse on the inside. If the outside had rats, spiders and cockroaches, oh the inside must be absolutely crawling with them. There were weeds growing in places I didn't even know weeds could grow; through the cement walkway, through some of the roofs shingles, even sprouting out of the old chimney. I assumed birds had done that. I had only recently noticed that the gate to the house had a chain and lock running through the handle and the side of the fence to prevent people walking on to the property. Despite the fact that the fence wall was about hip high on any average adult, hence the cemented windows. There was only one window that had not been sealed. It was a perfectly squared hole in the wall big enough to fit a head through, but not large enough for an entire body. The window frame still stuck to the wall was missing the rest of its assemblage. Through that gap, at least from where I stood on the edge of my balcony, all that could be seen was darkness within.

One evening, once the sun had gone down and the road was lit with dim streetlights, and after an entire case of beer had passed through my esophagus, I peeped down the lane checking for any sign of my neighbours. You see, after months and months of starring at the old forsaken estate from the height of my veranda, the curiousity finally over came me. Seeing nobody outside I exited my apartment, took the elevator down several floors to the exit of the building. I made my way around the structure and headed up the tarnished staircase to the paddle locked gate. I peeked around the area once more before jumping over the fence and on to the feckened landscape that sat before the retired house. I noticed that something about the place made me feel a little queasy. If I looked at the place for too long I became nauseous, but now standing on the front lawn I felt like I was literally about to be sick. I inhaled a deep breath of air to contain my stomach, but the air was musty from the ruins and rubbish that it only made things worse. I covered my nose with my hand and pulled out a torch from my pocket. I let the light of the torch traverse through the trash sitting on, and hidding within ,the grass. I noticed something shift fast from the corner of my eye. I spun the light towards the direction and realised it came from the square, open window frame. A large dark shadow rushed past the opening once again and I froze. Watching the gap for a few moments more and seeing no further movement, I inched closer to the gap. I beamed my torch inside and saw mouldy old furniture, piles of rubbish stacked on top of each other, and rat droppings sprawled across the floor. That horrible nauseous feeling poured over me again and I realise in that moment, that I felt observed. I slowly turned my head a little to the left and behind a busted old armchair I saw an eye... a wide eye staring right at me. Dropping my torch I turned and ran across the grass, jumped over the cement fence and scurried back to the safety of my apartment.

Sat at the kitchen table with a glass of water, my brain overwhelmed with hundreds of questions. It made no sense. How could this be? I thought to myself. There was no entry into the house. The windows were covered in cement, the front and back door were boarded with wooden planks, the only opening was the small square gap, only big enough to fit an adult human head... It had been shut for a very long time. It was sealed before I had even moved in, and I've been living in this apartment for a whole year now. There's no way someone had been living in there since before I moved to this apartment complex. But I definetly saw an eye. And it was looking right at me...

The door bell rang and that's when I woke suddenly. I had fallen asleep at the kitchen table, arms crossed on the surface of the table top, my head resting on my arms. Drool spilled over the edge of my arm and on to the veneer. I stood and walked to the front door. The bell rang again.

"Alright, alright, I'm coming..." I said.

Standing in front of the door I swivelled the peephole cover, peeked through and saw... nothing. I unlatched the door and opened it... nothing. As I stood there the door bell rang again making me jump. The scream that escaped my lips echoed through the corridor of the building, spiralling downwards to the ground floor and then back up at me. I threw the door closed and went to splash my face in the bathroom. I must be imagining things. I looked down to check my wristwatch, it was 7am, the last time I had checked the time it had been 3am. Clearly I need more rest, yeah, that's what it is, I thought to myself. I finished the glass of water that was sat on the kitchen table then headed to the comfort of my bed.

Several days had passed since that strange night, and each day had began the same. My bell would ring and I'd find no one there, then I would get on with my day as usual, working from home, doing a few chores around the house before ending the day watching some TV. Since the occurence each night as I sat watching my favourite pre-bedtime shows I would have feel somewhat nauseous and have that strange I'm being watched sensation. I would look around but never find anything. No people, no shadows, nothing. So I'd shrug it off and continue watching my TV. Today, was no different, I harshly woke to the ringing sound of the doorbell and rushed towards it to try and find the culprit, but yet again found nothing. Walking back to my bedroom I smelt something in the air. A musty, somewhat foul smell. I followed the scent to the corner of my room. In the corner sat a chest of drawers. Pushing it to the side I found that mould had been growing behind it. That's not too strange, the same thing happened last year, it's a humid area. I had gone to the kitchen to make a quick mix of bicarbonate soda and vinegar, and used it to scrub the thick green and black patches off of my bedroom wall. I then left it to dry a while before returning the dresser to its original location in the corner.

Later that evening, as I sat on my soft, snug sofa watching my shows I had that strange sensation again that I was being watched. I sat up, turned off the TV and looked around. No people, no shadows, nothing. Looking up however, I did notice something extremely odd. Growing between the edge of the chandelier and the ceiling were strands of fresh weeds. They hung down loosely, while one of the strands had been growing wrapped around the frame of the chandelier. As odd as it was, it was not the cause of why I felt observed. I climbed up off my sofa and made my way to the left wall and examed it. I searched near the bookcase. I searched over the wall hanging shelves. And I searched the gaps between a set of picture frames that I had hung up only a few months ago. And there, between two of the frames I found a hole in the wall. A hole that had not been there when I hung up those picture frames. I leaned in and peeked through the crack and my stomach dropped. As I stared through the hole, something too stared back, a wide human eye was looking directly at me.