The floors creaked and groaned under my weight as I walked across the bedroom. I felt at home in this old house, but there were others who didn’t feel the same. I knew because the house told me.
This would sound crazy to many, but this house had become a comfortable place. I place of refuge even with its cracked plaster walls and its leaky plumbing. Even the drafty windows seemed to bring a sense of calm to me. I couldn’t let it be knocked down or remodeled.
The door to the hallway was ajar but swung silently open for me. It was as if it knew what I was about to do, but how? Could it possibly have read my mind, or was it guiding me? I took a deep breath as I walked out into the dimly lit hallway.
His room was just down the hall. He would be sleeping soundly because he had all the plans for tomorrow. He was starting his remodeling project and would need his rest.
“I’ll give you plenty of rest,” I said under my breath as I moved the hatchet from my left hand to my right.
The floor was unusually quiet tonight. The normal creaking was muffled. I looked above me and said, “Thank you.” There was a light breeze that hit my face as if to say, “ No, thank you.”
When I arrived at the door, it eased ever so quietly open. I saw him sleeping peacefully with his head on the soft goose-down pillow with a satin cover I provided him. I’m sure he was dreaming of the changes he was going to make tomorrow, or thought he was going to make.
As quiet as a church mouse, I crept to his bed. I stood above him and raised the hatchet and said, “Not today,” and…
Beep, Beep, Beep. I rose up in bed, a mess of sweat. My body shook, and I slammed my hand down on the alarm.
“Thank God it was only a dream.” I jumped out of bed and went down to tell my brother that I didn’t think I wanted to remodel the house, or at least hold off.
I got myself ready for the day and walked down to his room. I knew he would be upset, but he would understand my attachment to the house; he had to understand.
When I got to his room, I knocked on the door; there was no answer. “He must be getting started,” I thought to myself and began to walk toward the stairs when the door began to slowly creak open.
I stepped back for a second, remembering my dream, and looked inside. I screamed at the sight of the bedroom walls covered in blood with the words “Now it feels like home” on the wall in blood.
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