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The House Creative Writing Essay

766 words - 3 pages

I moaned softly to myself as I compelled my battered legs to carry me
for the last time along the over-grown garden path, which I had once
skipped down so carelessly as a young boy. I sighed as I surveyed the
acres; the once beautifully manicured, but now utterly disheveled
expanse of garden stretching before me. My gaze rested on the immense
oak tree that cut into the landscape, once majestic and verdant but
now withered and dieing. I apprehensively forced my eyes to look
directly ahead of me and focused them upon the house that had once
given me so much happiness as a boy. I mocked myself for thinking that
I could bring those memories back. I let my eyes rove over the house,
visualizing the rooms behind the now cracked and distorted windows. I
felt my heart begin to beat faster as I saw the one I was looking for.
It was now boarded up; concealing the room I had come to see. My
vision momentarily flittered over the incongruous, gaudily coloured
car that had brought me so far, but there was no turning back; not
now, not ever. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath and picked my way
across the uneven path and up towards the front door, stumbling once
or twice but never faltering. The door was hanging off its hinges;
there was no need for a key.

I stepped through the doorway. I put up my hands to brush away the
silky cobwebs, relishing the spun-silk disintegrating at my touch. The
floorboards creaked after every leaden step I took. I took another
deep breath to steady my nerves, and I entered the grand ballroom. The
room was gloomy and damp, I looked up to face the chandelier, but the
ceiling was bare save for a gaping, splintering hole in the ceiling
whsere it once hung. It must have been taken when they came. I

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