The Dilapidated House – 3/3

Shell-shocked with dilated pupils. Chris couldn’t help but imagine the worst. Something had fixed the window and worse yet, it was mocking him. He ran for the door. The window at the end of the corridor was gone. He now realized it was just light.

He sprinted harder but screeched to a halt at the start of the stairs. Everything in the hall was organized. The carpet was new. And the window, gone. Again. Before he could collect his thoughts, he heard a laugh. It was coming from behind.

He turned around and recognized the smirk. But he was too flabbergasted to move. A tumultuous whiff and he found himself flying. Almost in the middle of his flight, his body was parallel to the inclination of the stairs. His hands and legs were flapping around, looking for something to hold on to.

He felt desperate. It felt like he was falling into a gaping well. Darkness tried to engulf him, but the end of this myriad tunnel was guarded by a blinding light. A white light.

The flight felt endless. Time had stood still, and his prayers seemed to take forever to be answered. He felt uneasy and breathless as the fear of hitting hard ground had gripped him tight. His anticipation was way worse than the fall itself. He closed his eyes as if darkness would help relieve the pain. But what Chris didn’t know…was that he was waiting for a thud that never came.

He opened his eyes, as it had been too long since anything happened. He found himself lying in the front yard, light headed and nauseous. The medley of strange things didn’t register at first. He didn’t remember walking out of the door. But then, slowly, it all came back to him. The search for the ball, the chaos which magically turned to order, the disappearance of the light, the appearance of the smirk and the subsequent return of the light.

But he still couldn’t figure out as to how he had escaped the fall. He had only one explanation: It was just a nightmare. But before he could content himself with that, he looked up at the house. The entire window was tinted brown except for a transparent circular patch, the one in the shape of the ball. The ball which was now in his pocket.

It eventually dawned on him, that while he was being mocked by a demon in black, he was constantly being attended to by an angel in white. From the front yard, he could imagine the demon smirk and the angel smile. One wishing well and the other…….well…



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