The House I Squatted In Never Existed (Part Four)

My many apologies for how long this took me to put out. Not only was I hit with a serious case of the flu, then my mother was hospitalized. Safe to say, this subreddit wasn't at the top of my priority list. Now, though, I've finished my recollection. I hope you can all gleam something, anything from it.

. . .

“Kris, what the hell is going on?” Maddie’s voice cut through the cold quiet. My eyes drifted back to hers. She looked like she was going to cry. 

“I don’t know,” I whispered back. “Just…don’t touch that door.” 

“Why?”

“Just don’t!” I snapped back. Maddie recoiled at my words. I couldn’t stand to see that reaction from her. I ran my hand up her arm and sighed. “I…I didn’t say anything; I thought I was going crazy. But this house is…” There was a loud, distinct creak behind us. We both turned towards the noise and she clung to me close. 

“There’s a back door,” she whispered, as if the house could hear us. “We can go through the back door.” I couldn’t think of a better plan, so we both shuffled towards the kitchen. Its wooden floors were back, creakier than normal. I felt Maddie’s hands grip my arm tighter as we were met with yet another wall. “No,” she whispered. “No no no no nononono!” Her voice raised as she ran to the wall and banged on the empty space that used to be a door. “Where’d it go, where the fuck did it go?!”

“Mads-”

“Where is the fucking door, Kris?” I stared at her for a moment, my mouth was unable to open. “Kris?” Tears filled her eyes as she looked to me for some form of answer. 

“This is Hell.” I mumbled. She sniffled and shook her head. 

“Don’t talk like that.” Her voice shook. “We have to figure out what to do, we-”

“There’s nothing we can do!” I shouted, immediately regretting the raise in my voice. “This…this is…I don’t know what it is, but I don’t think we can leave.” Maddie scoffed.

“So, what, we just sit here and hope it lets us out?”  I sighed and shrugged. 

“I don't know, Mads, I just-” A door slammed in the distance. We both jumped and shut our mouths. My eyes drifted to her, and I found her already staring at me. 

Time stopped. We froze. Her eyes shifted behind me. Her breathing stopped. “Kris…” I didn't want to turn around. I knew what it was. I knew exactly what it was. I felt it’s chill, I could see my own breath. “What’s behind that door?” Maddie asked, her voice just above a whisper.

“I don’t want to know.” I admitted, the terror in my chest becoming harder to ignore.

“I think you have to.” That same terror was strung across her words. My eyes widened slightly as I saw her expression. I whipped my head back to find we had been sealed off. There was a wall blocking us from the rest of the house. And, our only way out was the door. 

“I can’t.” I whispered, mostly to myself. I didn’t know what was behind the door, why it laughed, why it wouldn’t leave me the fuck alone; but everything in me told me to stay away from it. I felt tears well up in my eyes, and I didn’t know why. My eyes drifted to the red-stained bandages on my arms. I couldn’t stand to be here anymore. I felt like a mouse in a maze with no prize at the end, running in circles over and over, from everything. Everyone. My dad, my mom, Darren, Maddie, I kept running, I couldn’t stop running—

“Kris!” Maddie’s scream snapped me out of it. I turned to find she was gone. Another wall, built between me and her. I could hear the faint sound of her small fists pounding on the impossible bricks. I just stared. My body was paralyzed with fear. My feet were glued to the ground. I didn’t know what to do. 

Well, I knew. But I didn’t want to. I couldn’t. 

Creak went the door behind me, the ice on its hinges cracking and shattering on the floor. My head turned, slowly, unsure. Behind the door was darkness. Black. A chill ran up my spine. I heard that laugh again. It didn’t echo, it didn’t bounce off the walls. It just…was. 

Something forced my body to move. My feet moved without my effort. I felt my skin prickle with goosebumps as I stopped at the edge of the door. It was freezing in there, I could feel the chill whip against my skin. I winced as my arms burned. When my foot crossed the threshold, my chest tightened. The door slammed behind me and I jumped. I turned to only find more blackness enveloping me. “Fuck.” I breathed out. I turned back around and found the darkness moved. Shapes became more clear as I stepped forward, my heart nearly burst out of my chest. “Maddie?” No response except for a laugh.

The shapes became more familiar. Walls, windows, a couch, a TV; the room began to light up, my eyes took a moment to adjust as the TV began to blare noise. It was something I recognized. My eyes adjusted and I realized that everything was familiar—I was in my living room. The TV was blaring the opening theme to Justice League. “Oh my god…” I looked to the couch. There he was. There I was. 

Six year old me, sat cross legged on the couch with a smile on his face. “Why are you showing me this?!” I screamed. “I can’t—” My voice broke. I looked back at my younger self with teary eyes. He was so oblivious. He yawned, stretched his arms and yelled. “Dad!” 

“Don’t make me watch this.” I whispered to the house. It ignored me. Younger me cocked his head and yelled again.

“Dad?” He hopped off the couch. There was no response. 

My body didn’t move. The house simply moved around me as he padded down the hallway.  “Stop!” I protested uselessly. I tried—despite knowing it wouldn’t work—to grab at him and keep him from opening that door. My hand just went through him. I felt a tear roll down my cheek. 

That’s when I really looked at where we were. The door. I knew I recognized it. This is the door. The door that’s been driving me crazy for days; it was the door to my parents bedroom. It was slightly cracked, light spilling in from the windows and out into the hallway. Younger me pushed the door open and laughed. 

Laughed. That was his first reaction to seeing his father laid motionless on that bed. His socked feet hung off the edge, one arm across his chest and the other hanging off. 

“I don’t want to see this,” I mumbled, my hands wiping more tears from my eyes. “Please.”

“Dad!” He called out cheerily. “Why are you sleeping?” He walked to the side of the bed and, with a smile, put his hands on the edge of the bed and got on his tiptoes to look at his father. His smile faded a little. Dad’s eyes were still open. “Dad?” His voice was meek now, his little hand came up to shake his fathers arm. “Dad? What’s wrong?” He turned to find an open pill bottle on the nightstand. Empty.

I squeezed my eyes shut and put my hands over my ears. I couldn’t stop the tears anymore. My body shook as I screamed; “Stop it! Stop it, I don’t want to be here! Let me go!”

“You were watching cartoons.” I opened my eyes. My gaze, slowly, drifted to my father. His body, stiff and unsure, sat up in the bed. I stared for a moment, before his words registered in my head. 

“W-what?”

“You didn’t even come to check on me.” I looked over to find younger me, head buried in the mattress, silent cries escaping him. 

“I-I’m sorry,” My words broke. “I didn’t know—”

“Two hours.” He accused. “I was dead for two hours. You didn’t look for me until you were hungry.” I wiped my face.

“Dad, please, I didn’t—”

“Kris?” Maddie’s voice echoed into the room. I opened my eyes in surprise, my father cocked his head to the left. She was here. Stood next to a crying little boy.  He stared a hole through Maddie. Her eyes met his, fear was written on her face, but yet, she stepped towards me. “This…is your dad?” She asked carefully. I didn’t answer. I just watched my father’s gaze. It followed her as she made her way to me. She knelt next to me and—despite the obvious fear in her words—she grabbed my hand and squeezed it. “Kris.” She said gently. I didn’t look at her. My fathers blank eyes stared at the two of us.

“She knows what you did.” He said simply. I opened my mouth to speak, but I felt her hand on my chin. She turned my head to face her. Her thumbs swiped the tears off my cheeks.

“Kris.” She said again. “How old were you?”

My mouth stayed shut. Hers didn’t. “How old were you?” She repeated.

“Six.” I said under my breath. She shook her head as I opened my mouth again. “I was six.” When I spoke, so did my father. “I should’ve known, I should’ve—”

“Stop it.” Maddie interrupted. “You. Were. Six. You couldn’t have known.” 

“I could’ve walked into that room earlier,” My father and I spoke in unison again, “I could’ve stopped him, then everything would be okay, mom would be okay,” my voice waivered, “I’d be okay.” 

“Kris.” Maddie said softly, her hands cupping my cheeks. “There was nothing you could’ve done.” I tried to look at my father, but she pulled my gaze back. “Don’t look at him. He’s not real. Your father is dead.”

“Because of me.”

“Because he was unwell, Kris. You couldn’t have saved him, you were a child.” I opened my mouth to speak, but she stopped me. “It wasn’t your fault, baby. None of this is your fault.” I felt a lump in my throat. 

“I fucked up, Maddie.” I whispered shakily. “I fucked up with him, my mom, you—”

“Kris, I love you.” She gave a broken laugh, sniffled and put her forehead to mine. “You’ve done nothing wrong.” I sniffled and averted my gaze. 

My entire life I ran. I finally wanted to stop. As I looked up into Maddie’s eyes, I found something I hadn’t felt in a long time; hope. Those green eyes were my salvation. 

“I love you.” Was the only response I could muster. She gave me a half smile and we both looked over to my father.

He still sat there, his eyes vacant. Indifferent. Then, without a word, he vanished. The TV went silent in the other room, the blinds closed, darkness overtook us. The shapes of the room became abstract. I closed my eyes and felt Maddie’s hand squeeze mine again. When my eyes opened, we were back in the house. It was…normal. Just the living room. 

We sat on the floor for a few moments, to really make sure we weren’t being tricked. When we felt safe, we stood. There were no words. We walked to the front door, turned the knob and saw the outside. The sun was just about to rise.

“Now what?” I asked, my voice hoarse.

“I don’t know,” Maddie admitted, “but we’re getting through it together. Promise.”

We never went back to that house. My stuff stayed there, we simply prayed no one else would go in there. We sat at that Circle K again and I listened as Maddie used all of her debate skills to convince her best friend to let me stay for a few days.

I stayed with Liv much longer than that. Two years. I became a brother until I turned 18. That’s when Maddie blew up at her father, picked me up and we eloped out of state. She became a lawyer, and I got a job as a substitute teacher. Life was good, but the nightmares never stopped.

They were occasional, until we moved to our current house. I got nightmares every night of that damn house. Maddie eventually pushed me into therapy when I was going days without sleep. My therapist tried to convince me the house was a result of psychosis, I was undiagnosed bipolar and dealing with unresolved trauma. 

But I know what I saw. What I felt. There’s still scars on my arms that no amount of shitty tattoos can cover. No amount of meds can take that away.

There’s something else, though. Something that made me want to write this.

I took my nightly walk the other day, and my heart stopped along the way. 

It was here. It towered over me.

The house was here. And it laughed at me.