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Join Date: Apr 2003
Posts: 4
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The White House
I wrote this one a while ago...It does have some violence in it, just to warn.
The White House
The cold pavement of Elmwood Bay was shimmering as the rain poured down on it. The houses had long since been quiet, for it was late, and the storm had cut off power. All of the houses on Elmwood Bay were fairly normal family houses, with fairly ordinary builds. One house though stood out from the rest, a rather run down looking house, with boards covering its doors and windows. They called it the white house, because of its white paint, and the first owners last name was White. The residents of Elmwood Bay had tired for years to get it torn down, but the city never got around to it, so they eventually just gave up. Like all houses, this one had a story, a cold, dark story.
40 Years Ago
“Daddy, daddy? Where are you?” Cried a little girl standing in a dark lonely hallway. “Daddy come out! Come out and play daddy!” Screamed the little girl a little louder.
The little girls long wavy red hair fluttered behind her as she walked down the hallway. Her red night gown had red stains all over it, and in her small hand was a butcher knife doused in blood. Her knuckles grew white from gripping the knife so hard. The little girls eyes glazed over with fear and hatred, tears streaming down her face. As the girl walked down the hall she began to drag the knife along the wall, slightly pressing in, the knife began to make a slick cut, tracing its path.
“Daddy, where are you?! Come out and play daddy!” Screamed the little girl, crying even harder.
The little girl came to the end of the hall, and turned the corner into the living room. The living room was decorated with old art, and antique furniture. There in the middle of the room was a rocking chair. In the rocking chair sat a woman, her stomach oozing blood, and her throat cut.
“Silly mommy, where is daddy?” Asked the little girl with a childish smile on her face. “Mommy, are you sleeping? Wake up mommy!” Cried the little girl, as the smile faded from her face.
Behind the little girl came a man, no doubt her father. He was tall with brown hair, and green eyes. He stood looking at his daughter, tears streaming down his face, he held in his arms a child, no older than three.
“Tiffany, you’ve been a bad girl, put down the knife.” Spoke the father in the most un menacing voice possible.
“But daddy, don’t you want to play with me?”
“No Tiffany, we cant play right now, you’ve been a bad girl.” The man fought back an outburst of tears, the tone of his voice growing more and more frantic.
“Well daddy, if your not going to play with me, what ever shall I do?”
Raising the knife Tiffany walked towards her father.
“Tiffany, put down that knife, daddy is going to be very angry!”
Tiffany paid no attention to her father, she only grew closer, and more angry. The father unsure of what to do set down the child he was holding, and grabbed the stool beside him.
“Silly daddy, you wouldn’t hurt your precious angel, would you?” Said Tiffany with a sly smile on her face.
“Daddy, isn’t going to hurt you, just put down the knife sweet heart.”
“No daddy! You wont play with me! Mommy wouldn’t play with me! Charlie wouldn’t play with me! Play with me daddy!” Screamed Tiffany
Tiffany lunged at her father with the knife, stabbing it deep into his stomach, pulling out the knife, Tiffany began to giggle. She stabbed the knife into her father thirteen more times, and then stood up to look at what she had done. She only giggled, and snickered.
“Sam, you will play with me wont you?” Spoke Tiffany, to a small boy standing next to her.
“Oh yes, Tiffany, we can play forever”
10 Years Later
Elmwood Bay residents still haunted by the nightmare that had occurred ten years ago, were a little nervous about new people moving into the white house. Although they supposed that it was probably going to be for the best that everyone try and move on, and this would help that process. Mr and Mrs. Kent sat in the living room of the house at a large table. The sales man smiled gladly at them, as he handed them the legal documents. Light shone off of his balding head, and what was left of his hair was great and thin. Suddenly the man reached for the documents and spoke up.
“Okay, before you do this, there is one thing you have to know. This isn’t exactly pleasant, and its only fair that you know about this. Ten years ago in this house, a seven year old girl butchered her family, and then hung herself in her room.”
“Oh my god, that’s horrible.” Spoke Mrs. Kent with a look of concern on her face.
“That is quite sad, but I don’t think that will change our minds about buying this place. Sure its kind of eerie to know someone was murdered in this house, but we still want to take it. Right honey?”
“Well yeah, I guess so.”
“Good then, if I can just get you to sign these forms you can move in first thing this morning.” Spoke the salesman, with a gleaming smile on his chubby round face.
“We will be staying in a motel for this evening, and will be moving in first thing tomorrow.” Spoke Mr. Kent
“Alright, whatever works for you.”
Leaving the house, the Kent’s were greeted by an older looking woman, with short white hair, and a country stile dress on. Her face wrinkled with age, and her weight supported by a cane. Here eyes seemed very uncertain about something.
“So, your moving in here are you?” Asked the woman very kindly, but not without a tone of uneasiness.
“Why yes we are. I am Jon Kent, and this is my wife Sally Kent, very nice to meet you.”
“Yes indeed. I am Louise Grenadine. She comes around here sometimes, or so some say. Be careful, that house is dangerous, come over some time and I’ll give you its full history.” With that, the old lady slowly walked away, and back into her house.
“Well what was that all about?” Questioned Mrs. Kent
“Oh, I’m sure people are just nervous about people moving into this house, that’s all.” Reassured Mr. Kent
“Yes, I suppose.”
The Kent’s began to unpack the boxes that they had moved into the house earlier that day. Sally was in the kitchen unpacking some kitchen supplies when she heard a strange sound. It was coming from upstairs, and it couldn’t have been Jon, he went to the store to grab some odds and ends. Cautiously, Sally made her way upstairs, and the sound grew louder. The noise sounded a lot like a child laughing, trying to get crazy thoughts out of her head, she rounded the corner into thee upstairs hall. The sound was coming from the door on the right, slightly ajar. Sally slowly headed towards the door, reaching out her hand. Just before her hand could touch the doorknob, the doorbell rang. Sally stared at the door for a brief moment, then ran downstairs and answered the door.
“Hello, Louise. What can I do for you?”
“Oh, I was just wondering if you would perhaps like to come over for some coffee?”
“Well, Jon is out for a while, so I don’t see why not. Just give me a moment to grab my shoes.”
Sally ran and grabbed her shoes. Heading out the door, the sun shone brightly in her eyes, making her squint. Louise’s house was a large blue house, with many windows, and greyish blue shingles. Before she knew it, Sally was standing at the front door. Louise kindly greeted her inside.
“Just take your shoes off, and make your self at home. I’ll put the kettle on.”
“Oh thank you.” Smiled Sally.
The inside of Louise’s house was greatly decorated with porcelain dolls of all shapes sizes and colours. The walls were painted, soothing, relaxing colours.
“Come to the kitchen dear, and have a seat.” Yelled Louise from behind a separating wall.
Heading to the kitchen, Sally was greeted by no less than seven cats.
“Wow, Louise that’s a decent amount of cats, wouldn’t you say?”
“Oh yes, most of those I took off the street. I have a soft heart when it comes to cats.”
“Well that’s nice.” A bright smile overcame Sally’s face.
“Take a seat, the tea will be ready shortly.” Gestured Louise.
Sally pulled up a seat at a small oak table, and was then joined by Louise holding some tea cups. Louise set the tea cups down and brought milk and sugar to the table. The kettle whistle starting going off, just as Louise was about to seat herself. Getting back up, Louise grabbed the teapot, and a pot holder. Louise then grabbed a tea bag from out of a drawer. Setting it in the kettle and slightly mixing it around Louise began to speak.
“Sally, my dear. We have much to talk about. I fear the conversation may not be so pleasant. But I assure you, you must know the history of that house.”
“Well, I’m all ears.” Sally seemed a bit caught off guard.
Louise pulled the teabag out of the pot, and then headed over to the table. Setting the pot holder down on the table, and then pouring Sally, and herself some tea. Sally put a small amount of milk in her tea, and mixed it around. Louise just sat and watched.
“Be prepared for what your about to hear, it isn’t exactly the most pleasant tale. So let me see, where to start? Well I suppose the only place to start is at the beginning. Three families, including yourselves have lived in that house. It all started way back about twenty years ago.
20 Years Ago
There stood the white house, in all of its glory, for the first time. The White family had finally had their dream home. The white paint shimmering, in the afternoon sun, and the marble stone steps, glossy and new. Just on the outskirts of town, The White family decided they wanted their privacy, and this was just the place to get it. Two young boys stood beside their parents, dressed formally, in black suits. Their mother wore a white dress decorated with flowers. The father in a grey suit.
“Sammy, Chuck, go inside, your mother and I will join you shortly.”
“Yes father” Replied the boys simultaneously.
The boys ran obediently inside. Mr. White hugged his wife closely, as she began to cry.
“What are we going to do about Sammy? We have this beautiful new home, but something just aint’ right with him. He doesn’t want to play with other children, and what about those pictures he’s been drawin’? Cried Mrs. White
“I’m sure Sammy will be alright, just give him some time, he’ll come round’” Reassured Mr. White.
“I sure hope so.”
Three months had passed, and Sammy was only getting worse, violent outbreaks were a common occurrence. His pictures became more and more graphic. Then one December night Sammy went to the kitchen and grabbed a knife. Him and his brother hand been fighting that night, and it angered Sammy. So Sammy went upstairs and stood with the knife tightly clenched in his hand, over his brothers bed. Sammy without hesitation, stabbed his brother repeatedly in the chest.
“Chuck, don’t tell mom and dad okay?” Spoke Sammy, to his dead brother.
Pleased with what he had done, Sammy headed over to his parents bedroom, his mother was away visiting her mother, but his father was laying there fast asleep. Sammy stood over his father with the knife raised high. The knife came down hard in his fathers gut repeatedly.
“Don’t tell mommy okay daddy?” Chuckled Sammy.
Sammy then left his fathers room, dragging the knife along the wall, as he headed downstairs. Sammy walked down the front hall, the knife digging deeply into the white painted walls. Upon reaching the front door, Sammy dropped the knife, and headed out the door. It was snowing heavily that night. Sammy stepped down the marbles steps, and threw himself in the snow bank.
“Sammy, didn’t survive that night, he died out there from the cold.” Said Louise, looking deeply at Sally.
“That’s horrible. What happened to the mother?” Questioned Sally.
“That comes later, for now, we go back fifteen years.
15 Years Ago
Tiffany and her family just moved into the white house. By this time the town was beginning to creep up on the house, moving closer and closer as it expanded. The Andersons weren’t too worried about this though. They bought the house for its beauty, and uniqueness. Tiffany dashed into the house, eager to explore. Heading upstairs to examine her new room, she found that it was quite a bit bigger than she expected. The walls white, pretty much like the rest of the house. Easily bored, Tiffany ran downstairs, and decided to check out the basement.
The stairs creaked as she made her way down them. They had obviously not been walked on in some time, and had collected a great deal of dust. The basement was cold and dark, but Tiffany didn’t care. Coming to a halt at the bottom of the stairs, Tiffany gazed around. She spotted some empty crates, and a couple dead rats. Then in the corner something caught her attention. Slowly, Tiffany made her way to the distant corner and found herself staring at a wonderful mirror. The mirror had gold trimming, and once cleared of dust would be perfect. Tiffany stared deeply into the mirror, and then closed her eyes. After a short while she opened them to find a small boy, around her age standing next to her.
“Hello, I’m Tiffany, what’s your name?” Asked Tiffany curiously.
“My name is Sammy, nice to meet you Tiffany.”
“Yes, same to you Sam. If you don’t mind me calling you that.”
“No, not at all.”
“Do you want to play with me Sam?”
“Oh yes, would I ever.” Replied Sam enthusiastically. “But first, promise me that you wont tell anyone about me, okay?”
“I promise.” Smiled Tiffany.
Tiffany and Sammy would meet every day, at the mirror, and play. They played all sorts of games, but Sammy’s favourite thing was to draw. So Tiffany and Sammy sat drawing for countless hours. The pictures fairly grotesque, and violent. Tiffany’s parents started collecting the pictures, as disturbing as they were they just thought it was part of growing up.
Then, one night, Sam came to Tiffany as she slept.
“Tiffany, wake up.” He whispered.
“Is that you Sam?” Spoke Tiffany half awake.
“Yeah it’s me. Come on, lets play a special game.”
“What kind of game?” Asked Tiffany
Sammy leaned over and whispered in Tiffany’s ears. A smile crossed her face, and she quietly giggled. Tiffany jumped out of bed, and quietly went downstairs. Reaching the kitchen, Tiffany went over to a drawer and pulled out a large butcher knife. She knew her mother was still up knitting in her usual rocking chair. So Tiffany left the kitchen and walked up to her mother.
“Hello mommy, want to play with me?” Asked Tiffany with a sly smile on her face.
“Tiffany, its late, get back to bed. Wait, what is that your holding? Is that a knife Tiffany? You go put that back, and get to bed!”
“But mommy, I just want to play with you! Why wont you play with me mommy! Play with me!”
“Stop this Tiffany, go put the knife back, and get to bed.” Spoke Tiffany’s mother sternly.
“No!”
Tiffany lunged at her mother putting the knife deep in her gut. Lifting the knife to her eyes, Tiffany giggled with pleasure. She then proceeded to slit her mother throat.
“Well, I think you know what happens from there.” Spoke Louise with a sigh.
“This is all very horrible. Such violent acts, by such small children. But now, what happened to Sammy’s mother?”
“Well, your looking at her.”
“What! Your Mrs. White?” Cried Sally with great surprise.
“Yes, and you’re the only person who knows that. So it would be wonderful of you not to tell anyone. Oh, and one more thing. This is very important, I didn’t tell you earlier because I didn’t want you to think me some crazy old woman. But you need to get out of that house, as fast as you can, before its curse is bestowed upon you.”
“Yes, I agree, I have to be going now, I have to tell my husband this. Thank you for the tea.”
“Any time dear, any time.”
Sally quickly sat up, and headed for the front door, and quickly put on her shoes. Heading out the door, she saw that her husband was home, and was probably wondering where she was. The sky was now beginning to grow dark, she didn’t realize how much time she had spent at Louise’s. Walking through her front door, there were no lights on in the house, and she heard no sign of Jon.
“Jon, I’m home, where are you?” Yelled Sally into the darkness.
No reply came. Sally quickly checked the kitchen and living room, but he was no where to be found. Heading up the stairs, she could swear she heard the childish laughing again. She checked the two spare bedrooms, but Jon wasn’t there. Fear beginning to over come her, she dashed for her bedroom. When she finally reached it, she stopped directly in front of the door. She was afraid to open it, for fear of what she might find.
Hesitantly she grabbed the doorknob and turned it. Swinging the door open, she laid eyes upon her worst nightmare. There on the floor was Jon, bleeding from the chest, with a large butcher knife sticking out of his head. Sally began to cry uncontrollably and then turned around gagging. Falling to her knees, the tears came down hard. All thought were drowned out by the over whelming emotions surging through her body.
“Hi Sally” Spoke a little boy from behind her.
Sally quickly got up and began to run down through the upper hall, and down the stairs. To her amazement in front of her at the end of the hall in the door way, was Louise.
“Oh thank God Louise. My husband is…d-dead.”
“Oh, I know dear.”
A look of shock, and a surge of fear ran up Sally’s spine. Louise raised one hand revealing a large knife, she then kicked the door shut, and spoke, but not to Sally.
“Sammy, don’t worry, mommy’s home.”
So now, years later, here the house stands. No one dares to move in. It just sits alone, deteriorating. Its once grand marble steps, now cracked, and weathered. The paint chipping off, the shingles destroyed. The cold wind blowing the trees outside, and there stood The White house.
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I find it kind of funny, I find it kind of sad. The dreams in which I'm dying are the best I've ever had.
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